In today’s gospel Jesus questions the disciples about his identity. The disciples cite rumours that Jesus is a reincarnated prophet, namely John the Baptist, Elijah or Jeremiah. It is Simon Peter who recognises Jesus’ true identity: “You are the Christ, the Son of the living God.” Jesus responds by appointing Peter ‘the rock’ on which the church is to be built. As Eliakim was given keys of the house of David, so Peter is given keys to the kingdom of heaven! By the time the gospels are being written – some thirty to seventy years after Jesus’ death and resurrection – it is clear to Christians that Jesus had officially commissioned Peter to be the leader of the church, and Peter effectively took on this role for some thirty years. Some people like playing around with Jesus’ use of the word ‘rock’ to nominate Peter’s role in the infant church. Does it mean Jesus thought Peter was a bit thick in line with Marullus in Shakespeare’s Julius Caesar: “You blocks, you stones, you worse than senseless things”? Clearly this is not Jesus’ reasoning, as he will have been quite aware that the Psalms praise God as my ‘rock’, ‘fortress’, ‘shield’ and ‘my place of safety’. Despite Peter’s weaknesses – denying Christ three times and running away from Jesus’ crucifixion – God gave him the grace to be dependable, committed and a support for others with their different gifts. Peter’s rule was not one of craving or hanging onto power, but the rule of one who eventually learnt from his master that to rule is to serve.
The overarching theme derived from today’s readings is the question of insider-outsider. We see here that the divisions and barriers that emerge out of human experience have been shattered by the graciousness of God. Jesus’ openness to ‘the other’ finds a precedent in the prophetic tradition. Isaiah spoke of a time when outsiders would join insiders in worshipping God, thus dissolving the categories of insider and outsider. He was, of course, referring to the age of messianic fulfilment. This age dawned with the coming of Jesus. Jesus himself moved out of the constraints of his own cultural worldview, and he directs us to do the same. People are either excluded because of gender, culture or religious perspective, or included only because they are able and willing to conform to discriminatory standards. In the reign of God, this should not be the case. People are accepted along with their own cultural profiles.
The disciples’ panic at the rising storm buffeting their boat must have been compounded by Jesus’s sudden appearance as he walked across the water. Jesus’s loving reassurance that he was not a ghost – “It is I, do not be afraid” – would have quelled their fears. Peter’s response may resonate with many of us: “Lord, if it is you, tell me to come to you on the water.” We trust in the Lord; yet need reassurance. Jesus’s response fills Peter with peace and courage. He says simply to Peter, “Come.” Peter gets out of the boat and, quite miraculously, finds himself walking on the water towards Jesus. But, looking at the wind and the waves around him though, starts to sink. He cries out to the Lord and immediately Jesus reaches out and rescues him. In that moment, Peter’s relief at Jesus’ timely rescue must surely have been accompanied by the overwhelming realisation that Jesus’ loving, tender presence would never have let him drown. Peter realises that he is deeply and tenderly loved, in spite of all his inadequacies. Even at our most vulnerable moments, Jesus invites us to be courageous and audacious in trusting his steadfastness and his unfailing embrace of our frailties. Let us lean into the accompaniment of those who walk with us. Jesus looks steadfastly at us across the wind and water, and says, “Come”.
The “lovely” picture of God wanting to quench our thirst and satisfy our hunger is part of that unfolding narrative in the scriptures which sees the Kingdom of God in terms of a great banquet. It links us to the underlying message of this week’s gospel – the ‘Feeding of the Five Thousand’ – which, in turn, points us to that banquet which we have in the gift of the Eucharist. And notice how Jesus uses the occasion of the feeding as a lesson for the apostles and for us, that we are called to be the providers. The instinct of the apostles was that this was all too much for them and that the people should be sent away to find food for themselves, but, of course, the Eucharist will become the ultimate sign and reminder that this is how we are to look after one another and be united through Christ with our Father in Heaven. Ultimately Christ will triumph over every problem that presents itself: “neither death nor life, nor angels or rulers, nor things present nor things to come, nor powers, nor height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.” May we have the confidence and the courage to go forth and proclaim that message to our troubled world.
The treasure is the kingdom of heaven. It is the prize that gives meaning to the present, and its fullest delight which is the joy that we experience when we realise that the treasure is ours, draws us into the future. The reign of God is the fulfilment of our deepest desires and our fondest hopes. Nothing in the world can compare with it, and that is why we are willing to sacrifice everything to attain it. The treasure that we find is really an extraordinary gift that is given. We need not work to attain the kingdom, nor can we earn it in any way. It is given to us by God. All we have to do is accept it. Solomon chose to be of service to others. In this he is a model for disciples to follow. We have discovered the treasure in the field; we have found the pearl of great price. What we have been given, we must now give to others. In giving we will lose nothing. In fact, we gain an abundance of blessings. All things work for good, and God is glorified in all. Such is the character of the kingdom of God.
The gospel continues on from the parable of the Sower that we heard last week. For all our good intentions, and efforts we will probably continue to struggle with some issues all our lives. The garden of our soul will always need a little weeding. These inner struggles will continue to call us to conversion and we will continue to need to call on God and allow God to be the gardener of our souls. Knowing the weeds and wheat within our own individual lives, can help us be a little more patient, or tolerant of the weeds and wheat around us – in our families, communities, our Church. Also, sometimes in the struggle to live a good meaningful life, we can be our own worst enemy in being far too harsh and unforgiving towards ourselves. The Parable may invite us to greater kindness towards ourselves and to leave the task of major garden work to God.
The parable of the soil, of the seed, of the birds and the thorns, of the sun and the sower alerts us to Jesus’ deep sense of connection with life in its multiple forms. It calls us to examine our connection with the natural world. For a long time, we have focussed on the human character in the parable, a character who evokes an agricultural world that is far removed from our post-industrial world, but not so far removed from the world of millions of people in our planetary home who live close to the soil and to earth’s elements and who struggle to produce the food they need to stay alive. Is the Matthean Jesus presenting in the sower an image of an estate owner, or a tenant farmer or even a slave? Or is the reader being asked to imagine the sower, whether estate owner, tenant farmer or slave, as an image of an extraordinarily generous God whose life-sustaining gifts are there for all, no matter their readiness to receive? It may not be one or the other but both. What of the silty clay loam or red sandy soil, of the wheat or barley seed, of the birds and the thorns and the sun? We know that barley was domesticated some ten thousand years ago in what became bible lands and that these lands are also the original home of the finest bread-making wheat. The birds and the thorns and the sun are for another reflection. We bring our experience of looking and listening and being into dialogue with the parable and search out its meaning for us. We trust that God will ensure an abundant harvest if we but learn to look and to listen to the needs of a planet in peril.
Praise to God, and joy in God’s merciful love, justice and peace, are themes which run through the readings for this Sunday. The First Reading from Zechariah describes how God will defeat his enemies and establish himself as king – not through war and aggression, but with humility and peace. The Psalm is a great hymn of praise, central to the Jewish faith. It speaks of God’s kindness and compassion to all, and offers us the reassurance that the Lord will always be faithful and loving, ready to support and raise us up when we fall. In the Second Reading, Paul reminds the Romans, and ourselves, of what the suffering and death of Jesus has achieved for us. He speaks of the power of the Holy Spirit in our lives. In today’s Gospel, through his own prayer to his Father in heaven, Jesus reminds us that he is the one who will reveal God to us. Humility and gentleness are the virtues he emphasises; rest and freedom from burdens are the gifts he promises. This week we pray particularly for all those who feel overwhelmed by the pressures of daily life – whether through ill-health, conflict, poverty, loneliness or isolation. With the help of our prayers and action, may they come to know the love and peace of Christ.
In this week’s gospel, Jesus teaches, “Anyone who loses his life for my sake will find it.” Part of ‘losing our lives’ for Jesus means extending the self-giving, compassionate and merciful love we have received from him to others, especially the poor. As Christians, we must be prepared to accept suffering, not out of a masochistic sense that suffering is good or that we deserve it, but as a response made in love to give up anything and everything that impedes or undermines the life and love to which Christ calls us.This can sometimes mean prioritising him and the demands of discipleship over the demands of family. Consider St Francis of Assisi as an example. St Francis, in defiance of his enraged father, left his affluent home and the life his family had planned for him to live a life of radical poverty, humility, and dedication to serving the poor, in imitation of the life, poverty, and love of Jesus. St Francis is renowned as Il Poverello (Italian for “the little poor man), and as a “little Christ.”‘Losing our lives’ for Jesus does not necessarily mean we will be called to Jesus’ level of self-sacrifice. Still, our hearts need to be oriented towards this calling and open to its demands, painful and costly though that may sometimes be. But Jesus is very clear in calling us, indeed challenging us, to live the life of freedom and self-giving love for which we were created.Challenging and demanding though it is, each and every one of us is called to be a “little Christ.”
‘Do not fear’, ‘Do not be afraid…’ Jesus recognises that there will be much that will cause his disciples to be afraid but tries to get them to distinguish appropriate from inappropriate fear. There is a false fear and a true fear. Disciples need not fear those who can kill the body, because their entire physical existence is held within the hands of God and is precious in God’s sight: if God values the life of sparrows sold two for a penny, marking when they fall to the ground, how much more does the heavenly Father value and protect the lives of believers, worth more than hundreds of sparrows! Those who stand firm in witness to the Gospel and the values it enshrines, even to the point of death, can be confident that their ultimate fate lies in the hand of God and will one day be vindicated.The only valid fear for disciples should be that of falling out of God’s favour and so of losing, not one’s body, but one’s soul. This is a Gospel which illustrates the adage that Christianity is comforting but not comfortable. Matthew presents Jesus as insisting that the Gospel is not something to be talked about and lived behind closed doors. It – and the values it enshrines – demands public witness and proclamation.