Whoever loves father or mother more than me is not worthy of me,
and whoever loves son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me;
No one loved his mother more than did Jesus himself. Jesus was not suggesting that family was unimportant. After all, he invented the idea of human family. He himself decided to be born into a human family, under the authority of his parents, honoring them according to the very commandment that he himself first gave to Moses on Mount Sinai. Indeed well functioning families seemed so fundamental to the very fabric of society that one would seem to neglect the institution at his own peril. Nevertheless even family, when not ordered to God, can become an obstacle. It can actually become antagonistic to the good plans God had for the world. Mary and Jesus both easily could have preferred their life together to his sorrowful and difficult mission. They could have chosen to place this family bond of theirs at the center of their lives rather than placing God first. But Mary chose to love her son more than herself, to the degree that she desired for him what he desired for himself, even though it proved to be the cross. And Jesus chose faithfulness to his own divine identity, obedience to his heavenly Father, even over his most beloved bond with his earthly mother.
and whoever does not take up his cross
and follow after me is not worthy of me.
We too must choose to place Jesus first in all things. Good things in our lives will remain good to the degree that they are open and ordered to Jesus and his mission. They will become idols to the degree that we refuse to allow God to be involved and insist on being the ultimate arbiters of our own decisions about them. It doesn't matter how good and incorruptible anything seems to be. It only has its goodness from God and is eventually revealed to be empty when we refuse to surrender it to him. All the more, then, must we reject things which are not in any sense good, and this for the sake of Jesus. It is not enough to merely reject bad things because they are bad. We will wind up like an empty house that is now swept, clean, and inviting for the return of "seven other spirits more evil than itself" (see Matthew 12:45). But when we reject vice and sin for the sake of Jesus he himself fills the emptiness left by their absence.
Whoever finds his life will lose it,
and whoever loses his life for my sake will find it.
Life is obviously a good thing, a prerequisite for pretty much anything else. But if we prefer even our very lives to God they quickly go off the rails. We lose our freedom to follow him, not only when our lives are on the line, but even when they are threatened in lesser ways that still evoke the fear, rooted in death, that we all have as mortal beings. When we seek life in a limited and relative way there is a degree to which we may hope to seek and actually find it. But if we insist too strongly on seeking life at any cost we will quickly discover diminishing returns. We will never achieve such a perfect guarantee of life independent of God as to be satisfactory to our fear stricken egos. But that does not mean that we are called to take a hostile attitude toward ourselves. The idea is more that we not focus excessively on ourselves, to the degree that we could even lose ourselves without noticing, because we are too caught up in the larger story God is telling. We could lose our lives for his sake. If we finally achieve that level of detachment, it will be then that we truly find ourselves and possess ourselves without danger.
Whoever receives you receives me,
and whoever receives me receives the one who sent me.
When we stop seeking ourselves first we become free to receive others. We are not so closed and self-directed as to reject them outright, not so preoccupied with our own stuff that we can't really listen sympathetic to their stories. We've probably all had the experience of talking with someone who could only listen impatiently waiting for his next turn to speak. But when we seek Jesus first, we can actually find his presence in all of those whom we are called to receive. Any hospitality we show or charity we offer can be done as for Jesus himself. By contrast, when we still choose to put ourselves first we don't really have the freedom to open ourselves to others. There is always a element of selfishness, however hidden, even in those acts of our that appear to be the most altruistic.
And whoever gives only a cup of cold water
to one of these little ones to drink
because the little one is a disciple—
amen, I say to you, he will surely not lose his reward.
At first, when we hear the Gospel summons to take up our cross we think it may be an impossibly high bar. Perhaps we remember the quote of Bonhoeffer, who wrote, "When Christ calls a man, he bids him come and die". And yet today's Gospel passage goes on to show us that the bar is not in fact so very high. We worry that if we don't get everything exactly right as disciples, if there is any residual selfishness in us, that we risk losing our lives entirely. But the call is not about immediate perfection. It is more about our fundamental orientation. Jesus makes it clear that the one who commits himself to him, even through acts that are almost embarrassingly insignificant, "will surely not lose his reward". He is able to work through every small act of surrender we make, drawing us ever deeper into his own heart.
Newsboys - Lead Me To The Cross



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