He will not contend or cry out, nor will anyone hear his voice in the streets. A bruised reed he will not break, a smoldering wick he will not quench, until he brings justice to victory.
We may sometimes wonder if it would not have been better for Jesus to do something more demonstrably and indisputably divine, proving himself beyond all shadow of doubt to his contemporaries, and leaving an undeniable mark on history itself. But we can see that the reason he did not do so was precisely because if he did contend or cry out in that way many a "bruised reed" would be broken and the nascent faith of many a "smoldering wick" would be quenched.
If Jesus had chosen to appear as powerful, loud, and impossible to ignore, he would have appealed to precisely the wrong people, those who were least likely to actually internalize his teaching. By contrast those little ones who might have accepted him would have had their little wicks extinguished. So too would people like the Pharisees lose what tenuous grasp on truth that they possessed. They would have either been hardened against Jesus. Or, perhaps worse, they would have supported him because he appealed, not to the better angels of their nature, but to their pride and base instincts. Extracting oneself from serving a Jesus constructed after one's own image and likeness could possible prove harder than being converted from sincerely opposing his message.
Rather than use excessive strength to try to bring about the Kingdom by force, Jesus demonstrated the fact the he was meek and lowly of heart. The King of kings did not come at his opponents with angel armies, but withdrew. The all powerful God allowed himself to become weak, even though it made it appear that his enemies were winning, because by doing so he might make those enemies into his friends. Is this how we would approach it? Even after two thousand years of saints showing us what is possible Christians still tend to lean on their strength rather than allowing God to work through our weakness. How often do we withdraw rather than fight, especially when we know we are right? Doesn't this sound like a recipe for defeat? Consider that, for Jesus, it was part of the path to victory. So too may it sometimes be for us. The point is not that justice will never come to victory. But, rather, it is that the true victory does not come about by the flesh, since the war is not against the flesh, but rather by the Spirit.
I shall place my Spirit upon him, and he will proclaim justice to the Gentiles.
Have you not read what David did when he and his companions were hungry, how he went into the house of God and ate the bread of offering, which neither he nor his companions but only the priests could lawfully eat?
Jesus was the messiah, and therefore the rightful heir to David. David had been fleeing from Saul and his band who desired to prevent him from ascending to the throne. Jesus was being pursued by the Pharisees who similarly did not want to see him succeed in his own mission. David's mission was not merely political. Since he had been anointed by Samuel to succeed Saul, it was at least in part divine. He and his companions was thus permitted to share in the priestly privilege of eating the bread of presence. Jesus was true high priest and King of kings. David's own mission was a prototype of that of Jesus. It thus foreshadowed the coming together of the priestly and the kingly in order to bring about a kingdom where right worship would be perpetually offered to God. In Jesus, in whom the roles of priest, prophet, and king were perfectly united, the normal expression of the rules about the Sabbath did not apply. The Sabbath was, after all, about communion between man and God. But such communion could only be perfectly established by the fulfillment of the mission of Jesus, the perpetual sacrifice of his Body and Blood that he would go on to institute. Or have you not read in the law that on the sabbath the priests serving in the temple violate the sabbath and are innocent?
It was appropriate for temple priests to work on the sabbath, because such work was not a distraction from God, but rather done for his sake. Even more so, then, was it appropriate for the disciples of Jesus to be exempt from the demands of the sabbath for the sake of the one whom they served. The temple was a sign that pointed to God's presence. Jesus was himself that presence on earth. It is hard to imagine a more fitting activity for the sabbath than being together with him, and taking whatever steps are necessary to help facilitate abiding with him. Thus do the priests of the Church of Jesus continue to do work on Sunday, the new sabbath, in order to help his modern day disciples to enjoy communion with him and to experience the true sabbath rest that only he can give.
I say to you, something greater than the temple is here.
Mic drop. This can be nothing other than a claim by Jesus of his own divinity. After all, what is greater than the temple except the God for whose worship the temple exists? More to it, who else but the Lord of all could claim to be the Lord of the sabbath? Only the one who himself commanded the observance of the sabbath could possibly be justified in calling himself its Lord. But Jesus claimed precisely this. He thus possessed the wisdom to direct people toward the sabbath rest he intended for them, whereas the Pharisees only used it as a weapon to make things more difficult for Jesus, and to attempt to hinder his plan. They doubtlessly didn't like being implicitly associated with Saul and his men. And they certainly couldn't stomach the rationale Jesus gave for why they were wrong about the meaning of the sabbath. God himself was revealing that their excessive mean spirited rigor was not what he himself desired, but rather that mercy. If you knew what this meant, I desire mercy, not sacrifice, you would not have condemned these innocent men.
Even when we know the right answers genuinely, and not in a distorted way like the Pharisees, we must not abuse this knowledge. From a higher vantage point the truth is always meant to open out to mercy, not to be used as a weapon, or as a vehicle of condemnation. This is not to say we are to ever compromise with falsehoods or partial truths. And yet the more we focus on being doctrinally correct the more we tend forget that we are dealing with real people who are not intellectual obstacles but fellow men and women made in God's image, brothers and sisters in potential if not in fact. So let us keep our focus where Jesus directed it: himself as Lord, and mercy as his desire.
Come to me, all you who labor and are burdened, and I will give you rest.
Jesus isn't talking primarily about the labor of daily work which has its own dignity and can be satisfying. Adam was instructed to guard and till the garden while he was still in a state of original justice. It was after he sinned that frustration and difficulty entered the picture. Jesus invited all of those exhausted by toil to come to him for rest. It would not necessarily mean a cessation from all work or effort, but rather a freedom from frustration and a stable disposition of peace. Without Jesus all of our work is like that described by the prophet Isaiah:
We conceived and writhed in pain, giving birth to wind; Salvation we have not achieved for the earth, the inhabitants of the world cannot bring it forth.
This is especially true in the spiritual realm. The more that we try to accomplish on our own, or to adhere to the yoke of the law by our own strength, the more we realize that it is impossible for human beings, just as Jesus explained (see Matthew 19:26). Jesus, the new Adam, offers his supernatural strength, enabling us to bear the yoke together with him that he first bore for our sakes. He did what the first Adam could not do and now enables us to do the same through his grace. This allows us to enter into the rest that was always meant for us even while we still have work that needs to be done, both in the world and in our souls.
Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am meek and humble of heart; and you will find rest for yourselves.
We typically assume that the traits that make work easier are mostly competence and efficiency. But to have rest even whilst we yet face challenges the real characteristics that we must learn from Jesus are meekness and humility. Meekness has been called strength under control. Therefore it is not just any kind of strength that makes work easy. It is strength that we don't use in ways that are futile and frustrating. This kind of strength requires humility, which includes patience. Rather than slamming ourselves repeated into doors that won't open we must learn to accept our circumstances as God given and content ourselves to do what we can, rather than trying to force what is clearly impossible.
What is it actually like to share the yoke of Jesus and experience his promised rest? Compared to the frustration of life apart from him it feels like a resurrection, like purpose, like finally believe able to fully live in a way we never could before.
But your dead shall live, their corpses shall rise; awake and sing, you who lie in the dust. For your dew is a dew of light, and the land of shades gives birth.
I give praise to you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, for although you have hidden these things from the wise and the learned you have revealed them to the childlike.
As we heard yesterday, there were many in Chorazin, Bethsaida, Capernaum, and the surrounding areas who witnessed the mighty deeds of Jesus but did not accept his message. They were among wise and learned from whom the Father had hidden its meaning. They chose to believe in their own righteousness rather than admit the possibility that they might stand in need of correction. They were adult, and not childlike, in the sense of having become fixed and rigid in their ways. They were like Syria in that they were overly convinced of their own self-sufficiency.
For he says: “By my own power I have done it, and by my wisdom, for I am shrewd.
It wasn't so much the wisdom that people already possessed that was a stumbling block to accepting Jesus. It was their relation to wisdom. The problem wasn't so much that they were in fact wise as that they saw themselves as wise. When their wisdom did occasionally prove to be correct and useful it only reinforced this sense of pride. you have revealed them to the childlike.
Although there were many who were closed to Jesus, like teacups too full to hold anything beyond what they already contained, there were others who were able to receive his message. Such knowledge as this group possessed was not so great as to distract them from the possibility that there might be something new and worth learning. Their relation to wisdom was not of possession and manipulation. Rather they were able to discover new things with the openness and awe of children. Because they didn't see wisdom as something they owned they were able to recognize the greater wisdom present in the person of Jesus, who was himself incarnate wisdom. The mighty deeds Jesus performed were thus not wasted on them because they drew them into ever deeper understanding of Jesus' divine identity. The miracles of Jesus were not just for show, not to help him vie for attention in the marketplace of competing ideas, but rather were meant to reveal the loving heart of the Father for humanity. Therefore the Lord, the LORD of hosts, will send among his fat ones leanness, And instead of his glory there will be kindling like the kindling of fire.
When the Lord does not allow us rest in our unearned and imaginary self-sufficiency it is because of his mercy. He sometimes allows us to fall back upon ourselves and our own resources so we can actually understand how we stand without help. He always wants to help. But he can't allow his benefits to be put to use by us to construct idols in our own self-image. He lets the idols be torn down so that true worship can begin and find a place in us.
No one knows the Son except the Father, and no one knows the Father except the Son and anyone to whom the Son wishes to reveal him.
Jesus came to reveal something more and greater than the knowledge of scientists and philosophers. He came to reveal the depths of the inner being of God. Without him doing so the God who is three-in-one, who is love itself, would have remained forever obscure to us. We might have understood God as one who was often loving, but without realizing he was love itself. We might have understood God was like a father in relation to his people. But we never would have understood that he himself was a Father except that Jesus revealed it to us. He did so first by living his human life as the perfectly obedient Son of the Father and then by inviting us to participate in his own Sonship, loving his Father together with him. Even today the idea of the Trinity sounds like nonsense to the wise and the learned. We must still become childlike to learn it and see why it matters. But it truly does matter. It changes everything. We are invited to live in an eternal exchange of love. It is the whole meaning of existence. And it is available for anyone willing to become like a child and receive it.
Jesus began to reproach the towns where most of his mighty deeds had been done, since they had not repented.
Jesus used the language of prophetic judgment to express the fact that the towns of Chorazin, Bethsaida, and Capernaum had been given a unique and precious opportunity, and that they had not responded accordingly. The peoples of those towns might have otherwise missed the gravity of their situation. They did not see themselves as deserving of the judgment in the same way or to the same degree as Tyre and Sidon or Sodom and Gomorrah. Their apathy toward Jesus seemed less egregious than the failures of those pagan cities.
The people's in the areas of Jesus' missionary activity heard his wisdom and saw his mighty deeds. But most couldn't be bothered to make any real changes on the basis of what they saw and heard. They by and large remained people whose spiritual houses were built on a foundation of sand. But such a foundation could not withstand the storm of the coming judgment. They had not demonstrated themselves to be sheep, and so were tentatively heading toward a shared destiny with the goats.
It was not enough to be curious about Jesus, nor to merely be a regular presence attending the gatherings at which he taught. Because they had been near Jesus they had become accountable for what he told them, for the greater clarity of knowledge they had been given about how to live upright and devout lives in the world. People who seemed to be much worse than them, had actually not had the same starting place. They were pagans acting like pagans. If they didn't recognize the demands of the natural law part of that was because they had been numbed to it by the way their parents had taught them and the history of the lives of their ancestors. They were, in a sense, trained not to see it. But the people of Chorazin, Bethsaida, and Capernaum had a different tradition, one that should have trained them to see and respond to the messiah when he appeared. They had been given much more than Tyre, Sidon, and Sodom. And so this was somehow an even more culpable omission than anything that happened in those cities.
For if the mighty deeds done in your midst had been done in Sodom, it would have remained until this day.
We have unquestionably been given still more than the crowds who heard and witnessed Jesus in those towns on which he pronounced his woes. We have been given a greater degree of clarity about his message, thousands of years of people taking him at his word and proving it works, people we call saints, and all of the sacramental and charismatic graces we ourselves have received. Is our response adequate to these blessings? Most likely not. At least not yet. Often we are half-hearted, hesitating, and not all in and fully committed. We sometimes choose Jesus. But we often choose the world. We are lukewarm and run the risk of being spit from his mouth.
But I tell you, it will be more tolerable for the land of Sodom on the day of judgment than for you.
God gave even a place as bad as Sodom repeated chances because of the intercession of Abraham. And the threat of judgment on ourselves and on our world is not so much because God is looking forward to destroying his enemies as it is because he desires that we plead for ourselves and intercede for others. God wants us to realize that there is a great gravity to the fact that Jesus has come, a fact with which we must reckon. We ought not respond to these words by feeling overwhelmed or by giving up on a call that is seemingly too demanding. Instead, we should listen to the words of Isaiah to Ahaz: Take care you remain tranquil and do not fear;
Do not think that I have come to bring peace upon the earth. I have come to bring not peace but the sword.
He came to bring the word of God, the sword of the Spirit that is sharper than any two-edged sword. It pierces the division of "soul and spirit, joints and of marrow" (see Hebrews 4:12). We should therefore not imagine that it will spare our personal lives. The pruning that helps those who are on vine to remain there and bear fruit has an internal impact, to be sure. But it has an external one as well, insofar as it is necessary for us to prefer to remain on the vine even if other branches are pruned. We must not jump ship for the kindling pile just because we prefer the company we might have there.
We could imagine being asked to tone down our expression of our faith in order to appease non-believing family members. But this we must not do. We must not prefer even our most beloved family and friends to Jesus himself. If we do, we are succumbing to the illusion that we can love them better than God himself. But where do we imagine our future with our family is heading if not toward God? Is there anything we can choose apart from him, except that which amounts only to temporary distractions from our mortality? Even when we make choices that seem to be choosing God over and above our family we are actually also choosing our family as well, to love them with a divine love from a supernatural perspective, rather than with an earthly and merely human love.
Whoever finds his life will lose it, and whoever loses his life for my sake will find it.“Whoever receives you receives me, and whoever receives me receives the one who sent me.
We tend to be preoccupied with the search for things we cannot keep. Even if we find life in this way there is no way to hold it indefinitely. It will eventually slip through our fingers like water. This is hard for us to internalize since we are much more aware of the visible and tangible goods of temporary existence than we are of other things that seem more distant and abstract. It's not that we don't value things like truth, goodness, and beauty. Rather, their ephemeral status means that we are too willing to choose lower things instead, at least on what we imagine to be a temporary basis, since they seem more concrete and urgent. But precisely in virtue of being concrete those lower things are subject to corruptionand disintegration to a much greater degree than higher things, with God alone abiding forever. The whole hierarchy of being is meant to be an arrow pointing us to God. But when this apparent abstraction impinges on our daily lives it has real consequences. We may in fact have to lose our lives for Jesus in order to truly find them. We must at least have to be sufficiently detached from them that we can lose them for his sake if it is asked of us.
And whoever gives only a cup of cold water to one of these little ones to drink because he is a disciple– amen, I say to you, he will surely not lose his reward.
It may seem that we are being asked to achieve a level of heroic virtue that is, if not actually impossible, at least hugely impractical, and therefore impossible practically speaking. But how does Jesus actually call us as disciples to live this preference for God and for higher things? Is it by our own great accomplishments? Not primarily. Rather it is doing little things, but for his sake. It is not by turning away from unspiritual brothers and sisters that we become pleasing to God. Instead, we are asked to show hospitality, but specifically for God's sake. This is what it means to love a prophet or a righteous man because they are a prophet or a righteous man, more than for, say, their whit or their charm.
The call of Jesus does not typically require gigantic gestures of piety, but rather small acts of faithfulness. To give someone a cup of cold water is probably an action that is well within our reach. But it gains its true value when we do it specifically because someone is a disciple. Or if they are not a disciple yet, because they, like everyone are at least potential disciples. And thus we become agents of God's plan, "which he set forth in Christ as a plan for the fullness of time, to unite all things in Christ, things in heaven and things on earth in him" (see Ephesians 1:9-10). Do we see that it is God's love, expressed through his disciples, that helps to bring about this unity? The cutting action of the sword of the Spirit is important. But it is meant to yield one day to a more true and lasting wholeness.
And he spoke to them at length in parables, saying: “A sower went out to sow.
The parable of the sower addresses two dimensions of reality simultaneously. It speaks of the world as a whole, and of the many people in it who will not ultimately receive the Gospel in a transformative way. But since it tells of the pitfalls that can prevent one from receiving the Gospel at also addresses itself, albeit more obliquely, to the individual.
Jesus is not implying that some people should just give up since they are destined to have the word stolen from the by the evil one, to be overcome by tribulation or persecution, or to be overwhelmed by anxiety or the lure of riches. The reason that we are warned about the machinations of the world, the flesh, and the devil is precisely so that we do not succumb to them.
When Jesus invited the rich young man to sell all he had and follow him it was really possible for him to do so. When that man walked away sad he became a cautionary tale, helping us to realize that the challenges we face cannot be overcome on our own. What is impossible for man is possible for God. Receiving his divine seed even a little leads to a great terraforming of our internal terrain, making it ever more hospitable to bearing fruit.
Jesus told his disciples not to be anxious precisely because if they let anxiety have free reign in their hearts it could choke the word Jesus was planting in them. He trained them to do, not only without riches, but with almost nothing, so that they would know, with Paul, how to abase or abound (see Philippians 4:12).
There were a variety of threats to developing a solid understanding of the word. The Pharisees were among such people who would have aided the evil one in stealing it away. But Jesus never let the Pharisees or the evil one have the last word. He always offered at least the possibility of understanding, of choosing belief over confusion and despair. Even the Pharisees themselves were implicitly invited to learn and understand by the very fact that Jesus continued to engage in dialog with them.
Why did Jesus warn his disciples that they would face persecutions? Why did he tell them that they were blessed if they suffered for the sake of his name? Because then, when it happened, they wouldn't assume that something had gone wrong or that the Gospel had failed. Because, precisely by planning for such things they would develop a sufficient root, which we may see in this case as a sufficient commitment, to endure them when they did arise.
Because knowledge of the mysteries of the kingdom of heaven has been granted to you, but to them it has not been granted.
The parable of the sower is not merely describing three types of people predestined for hell and one for heaven. Rather, it encourages in those who hear it the desire to be good soil, to receive the word, and to bear fruit in abundance. If the hardness and barrenness of our soil seems to be a problem we can recognize the deeper reality that baptism has made us new creations, like the flood did in the time of Noah. The Spirit, like a dove, is inviting us to bear the fruits, which are his own gifts, in this new world.
To anyone who has, more will be given and he will grow rich; from anyone who has not, even what he has will be taken away.
Even just in virtue of hearing this parable we have something, something on which to build. The more we lean into it the more we will have. It has the potential to produce more than it seems, and infinitely more than we could do without it. By contrast, refusing to receive Jesus leaves us without options. The seed alone can be enough. But we must be the soil that receives it. We have ears and the sound waves do penetrate them. But will we really hear? That is the call of Jesus to us today. It is not just a biological process, but a response of faith that makes the difference.
so shall my word be that goes forth from my mouth; my word shall not return to me void, but shall do my will, achieving the end for which I sent it.