13th Sunday in Ordinary Time
Readings of the day: 2 Kings 4:8-11, 14-16a; Psalm 89:2-3, 16-17, 18-19; Romans 6:3-4, 8-11; Matthew 10:37-42
When was the last time you have ever been rewarded for something? Within these last few weeks, another school year has come to an end. Our high school seniors have graduated. In our parish, beautiful “moving up” celebrations have been held for our St. Kateri School fifth graders who will be moving to sixth grade in other schools, as well as for pre-kindergarten students preparing to enter kindergarten in the fall and kindergarten students who will be first graders after a well-earned and, we pray, enjoyable, safe, and peaceful summer break.
If you work, have you ever been recognized for excellence at your job? Have you ever been rewarded for above-and-beyond community service? Has our Church ever recognized you for your service? Parents, have you ever been proud of your children for something they have accomplished, and told them so? Children, are you able to think of a time when you were thankful to your parents, brothers or sisters, other family, or friends for something kind they did for you?
Our readings we have heard today speak to us of being recognized or receiving a reward for something we have done well. In the Second Book of Kings we hear of a woman who lived in a town in Israel called Shunem in the time of the prophet Elisha. 2 Kings describes the woman of Shunem as “a woman of influence,” which could mean that she was wealthy or had otherwise been recognized and rewarded often for who she was or how she acted. We know that she had been a close friend to Elisha. Each time Elisha passed through Shunem, “he [would] stop there to dine” at the Shunammite woman’s home. “Since he visits us often,” the Shunammite woman says “to her husband” in today’s reading, “let us arrange a little room on the roof and furnish it for [Elisha] with a bed, table, chair, and lamp, so that when he comes to us he can stay there.”
The hospitality of the woman of Shunem toward Elisha reminds me of the hospitality of many of my brother Basilians and of my parents and family. A few days ago I was speaking with Mom and Dad. My father, who clearly is looking forward to having me closer to home in Edmonton starting later this week (I am looking forward to being nearer to family, too, although I will once again miss many of us, my friends of St. Kateri), asked me something like: “So, you’ll be able to spend some time at our place, right”? For me, of course, this goes without saying: I will definitely spend a fair amount of time with Mom and Dad. Besides, it would be impossible to pass up their cooking and good conversation around the dinner table! And so the spontaneity of Dad’s question (out of love) and the hospitality behind it, which I have known to extend beyond our immediate family, caught me just slightly, and delightfully, off guard. The Shunammite woman’s hospitality also brings to my mind the people I have met everywhere I have been around the world who say to me, “Let me know if you or your family is visiting here. We have a place you and they can stay.” And, having visited Israel and the Palestinian Territories, the culture behind the Shunammite woman’s spontaneous hospitality resonates with me in this way, too. Yet kindness and hospitality like that of the Shunammite woman know no borders!
The best part, whether speaking of my mom and dad, of people who have invited me, my family, and my brother Basilians into their homes around the world, or the woman of Shunem in 2 Kings, is that none of these people expect any reward for their hospitality. In fact, in the short section that is left out from the middle of our first reading today, the woman of Shunem refuses the reward offered her by Elisha and his servant, Gehazi. And yet, self-sufficient as the Shunammite woman is, she longs for one thing: A child. Without her asking anything from Elisha or Gehazi, Elisha prophesies that, within a year, she will give birth to a son. And, if we read just beyond the end of today’s reading, we know that Elisha’s prophecy comes true for the Shunammite woman.
As with the woman of Shunem, in Matthew’s Gospel from which we hear today, Jesus promises his disciples; promises us a great reward for our hospitality, whether we expect it or not. Jesus says that “whoever receives a prophet… a righteous” person, or a disciple; “one of [Jesus’] little ones,” simply because they are who they are, prophets and disciples of Jesus, “will surely not lose his [or her] reward.” My sisters and brothers, the reward Jesus promises us for our hospitality is eternal life. This is so great a reward that it is beyond us to know what to expect of it. We know what eternal life is; what heaven is, but we have only a small hint of what the “reward” Jesus offers us is and what we hope for, if we have known the kindness; the spontaneous hospitality of one another, the Church. Our Lord invites us, then, to be that hint of heaven to one another.
Even so, only to a point is it possible to think and speak of a reward so great as heaven as something that can be merited or deserved, much less expected; something for which we might somehow be made worthy. But does our Church not still struggle with this language of merit or worthiness of eternal life, even in our prayer? In our Prayer over the Gifts, which we will pray in a few moments as bread and wine are brought to the altar, we will hear: “O God… Grant, we pray, that the deeds by which we serve you may be worthy of these sacred gifts.” And yet, in our opening prayer of this Mass, we have recognized that God’s gifts of our Church; of our ability to worship together; of God’s gift of eternal life to which this celebration points us, are beyond our wildest imagination. We have prayed this prayer to our “God, who by the grace of adoption chose us to be children of light.”
We did not choose God first. God chose us first to be his daughters and sons as if “by adoption”; “to be children of light”; to be God’s Church. God has chosen us to be baptized into God’s Church, as St. Paul says to the Romans; to be baptized into a share in the death and resurrection of Christ by which heaven is opened to us. God, in supreme kindness and hospitality, has chosen to promise us eternal life, insofar as we offer one another in some way a hint of God’s own kindness and hospitality. Definitely, God’s gift of eternal life is the one gift I am able to think of that is greater than Mom’s or Dad’s cooking or any gift; any hospitality; any reward any human being besides Jesus is able to offer.
We are caught in a beautiful, necessary tension, then: We can never offer or be worthy of a gift or reward to match God’s offer to us of eternal life, yet God invites us to be but a small hint of this gift; of this reward of eternal life we can only begin to imagine. If we place any priority before God; before Jesus Christ and eternal life, Jesus says, we are “not worthy of him.” Even worldly priorities that are in themselves good, like “father or mother… son or daughter”; dinner with Mom and Dad; on this long weekend of celebration of Canada Day today [yesterday] and, here, Independence Day on Tuesday, our countries and the friendship and peace between them, must be of lesser importance to us than the only goal that ultimately matters: Heaven; eternal life.
Jesus, I believe, is inviting us here to accept heaven as God’s free gift to us. Jesus is inviting us to place no earthly priority; no earthly reward before God’s free gift to us of heaven. Jesus is inviting us to trust that, if we offer one another even a small hint; a small sign of heaven by the way we act toward one another with love; kindness; hospitality, we “will surely not lose [our] reward.” We will gain heaven, even if we cannot possibly grasp fully this side of heaven the eternal reward that awaits us.
If you work, have you ever been recognized for excellence at your job? Have you ever been rewarded for above-and-beyond community service? Has our Church ever recognized you for your service? Parents, have you ever been proud of your children for something they have accomplished, and told them so? Children, are you able to think of a time when you were thankful to your parents, brothers or sisters, other family, or friends for something kind they did for you?
Our readings we have heard today speak to us of being recognized or receiving a reward for something we have done well. In the Second Book of Kings we hear of a woman who lived in a town in Israel called Shunem in the time of the prophet Elisha. 2 Kings describes the woman of Shunem as “a woman of influence,” which could mean that she was wealthy or had otherwise been recognized and rewarded often for who she was or how she acted. We know that she had been a close friend to Elisha. Each time Elisha passed through Shunem, “he [would] stop there to dine” at the Shunammite woman’s home. “Since he visits us often,” the Shunammite woman says “to her husband” in today’s reading, “let us arrange a little room on the roof and furnish it for [Elisha] with a bed, table, chair, and lamp, so that when he comes to us he can stay there.”
The hospitality of the woman of Shunem toward Elisha reminds me of the hospitality of many of my brother Basilians and of my parents and family. A few days ago I was speaking with Mom and Dad. My father, who clearly is looking forward to having me closer to home in Edmonton starting later this week (I am looking forward to being nearer to family, too, although I will once again miss many of us, my friends of St. Kateri), asked me something like: “So, you’ll be able to spend some time at our place, right”? For me, of course, this goes without saying: I will definitely spend a fair amount of time with Mom and Dad. Besides, it would be impossible to pass up their cooking and good conversation around the dinner table! And so the spontaneity of Dad’s question (out of love) and the hospitality behind it, which I have known to extend beyond our immediate family, caught me just slightly, and delightfully, off guard. The Shunammite woman’s hospitality also brings to my mind the people I have met everywhere I have been around the world who say to me, “Let me know if you or your family is visiting here. We have a place you and they can stay.” And, having visited Israel and the Palestinian Territories, the culture behind the Shunammite woman’s spontaneous hospitality resonates with me in this way, too. Yet kindness and hospitality like that of the Shunammite woman know no borders!
The best part, whether speaking of my mom and dad, of people who have invited me, my family, and my brother Basilians into their homes around the world, or the woman of Shunem in 2 Kings, is that none of these people expect any reward for their hospitality. In fact, in the short section that is left out from the middle of our first reading today, the woman of Shunem refuses the reward offered her by Elisha and his servant, Gehazi. And yet, self-sufficient as the Shunammite woman is, she longs for one thing: A child. Without her asking anything from Elisha or Gehazi, Elisha prophesies that, within a year, she will give birth to a son. And, if we read just beyond the end of today’s reading, we know that Elisha’s prophecy comes true for the Shunammite woman.
As with the woman of Shunem, in Matthew’s Gospel from which we hear today, Jesus promises his disciples; promises us a great reward for our hospitality, whether we expect it or not. Jesus says that “whoever receives a prophet… a righteous” person, or a disciple; “one of [Jesus’] little ones,” simply because they are who they are, prophets and disciples of Jesus, “will surely not lose his [or her] reward.” My sisters and brothers, the reward Jesus promises us for our hospitality is eternal life. This is so great a reward that it is beyond us to know what to expect of it. We know what eternal life is; what heaven is, but we have only a small hint of what the “reward” Jesus offers us is and what we hope for, if we have known the kindness; the spontaneous hospitality of one another, the Church. Our Lord invites us, then, to be that hint of heaven to one another.
Even so, only to a point is it possible to think and speak of a reward so great as heaven as something that can be merited or deserved, much less expected; something for which we might somehow be made worthy. But does our Church not still struggle with this language of merit or worthiness of eternal life, even in our prayer? In our Prayer over the Gifts, which we will pray in a few moments as bread and wine are brought to the altar, we will hear: “O God… Grant, we pray, that the deeds by which we serve you may be worthy of these sacred gifts.” And yet, in our opening prayer of this Mass, we have recognized that God’s gifts of our Church; of our ability to worship together; of God’s gift of eternal life to which this celebration points us, are beyond our wildest imagination. We have prayed this prayer to our “God, who by the grace of adoption chose us to be children of light.”
We did not choose God first. God chose us first to be his daughters and sons as if “by adoption”; “to be children of light”; to be God’s Church. God has chosen us to be baptized into God’s Church, as St. Paul says to the Romans; to be baptized into a share in the death and resurrection of Christ by which heaven is opened to us. God, in supreme kindness and hospitality, has chosen to promise us eternal life, insofar as we offer one another in some way a hint of God’s own kindness and hospitality. Definitely, God’s gift of eternal life is the one gift I am able to think of that is greater than Mom’s or Dad’s cooking or any gift; any hospitality; any reward any human being besides Jesus is able to offer.
We are caught in a beautiful, necessary tension, then: We can never offer or be worthy of a gift or reward to match God’s offer to us of eternal life, yet God invites us to be but a small hint of this gift; of this reward of eternal life we can only begin to imagine. If we place any priority before God; before Jesus Christ and eternal life, Jesus says, we are “not worthy of him.” Even worldly priorities that are in themselves good, like “father or mother… son or daughter”; dinner with Mom and Dad; on this long weekend of celebration of Canada Day today [yesterday] and, here, Independence Day on Tuesday, our countries and the friendship and peace between them, must be of lesser importance to us than the only goal that ultimately matters: Heaven; eternal life.
Jesus, I believe, is inviting us here to accept heaven as God’s free gift to us. Jesus is inviting us to place no earthly priority; no earthly reward before God’s free gift to us of heaven. Jesus is inviting us to trust that, if we offer one another even a small hint; a small sign of heaven by the way we act toward one another with love; kindness; hospitality, we “will surely not lose [our] reward.” We will gain heaven, even if we cannot possibly grasp fully this side of heaven the eternal reward that awaits us.
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