Divine Inclusion (20th Sunday, Year A)

 

One of the beautiful themes that runs through today's readings is that God's heart is bigger than anyone expected. Again and again we hear that his desire is not to save one nation, one race, or only a select group of people. He wants everyone.

Isaiah speaks about the day when foreigners will be welcomed into God's house and his temple will become "a house of prayer for all peoples." St. Paul marvels that even Israel's rejection of Christ became the occasion for God to extend his mercy to the Gentiles; to people like you and me. What looked like a failure of God’s plan and the ultimate human rejection became an incredible divine victory. This is all wonderful news. We should never get tired of hearing it. God's invitation is for everyone.

But there is something our culture often gets wrong about inclusion. Today, inclusion is often presented as meaning that everyone is welcome and no one should ever be challenged. Everyone belongs and no sacrifice should be expected. Everyone is invited and nothing should ever make us uncomfortable. The Gospel reminds us that God's kingdom doesn't work that way.

Yes, everyone is invited. But no one enters the kingdom without faith, conversion, and perseverance.

Our first impression of this story is that Jesus seems out of character. Here is a poor, Canaanite woman begging for her daughter, and Jesus appears to ignore her. Then he says he was sent first to the lost sheep of Israel. Finally comes the line that makes everyone cringe: "It is not right to take the food of the children and throw it to the dogs."

What are we supposed to make of this? While it looks like Jesus is pushing her away, he's actually drawing something extraordinary out of her. Remember who this woman is. She isn't one of the Chosen People. She comes from a pagan culture that the Jews avoided at all costs. If anyone seemed to be an outsider, it was her. And yet she becomes one of the greatest examples of faith in the entire Gospel. Jesus isn't closing the door. He's opening it wider. But he is showing us how we walk through it.

Through her interaction with Jesus, the Canaanite woman is showing us three movements of profound prayer that allow us to take advantage of divine inclusion. Notice what the woman does. First, she trusts. She comes to Jesus convinced that he can help. "Have pity on me, Lord, Son of David." She doesn't have all the answers. She doesn't know how he'll respond. But she believes he is her only hope. That's where every prayer begins. Before God changes our circumstances, he asks us to trust him.

Second, she perseveres. Jesus is silent. The disciples want to send her away. She could have concluded that God wasn't listening. She could have walked away discouraged. Instead, she keeps asking. We all know exactly what that feels like. 

We've prayed for a family member or friend who's left the faith. We've prayed for healing. We've prayed for a marriage that's struggling or for freedom from a habit we've battled for years. Sometimes heaven seems awfully quiet. The Canaanite woman reminds us that silence is not rejection. God sometimes tests our faith not because he wants to discourage us but because he wants to deepen it.

Finally…and this may be the hardest lesson of all….she is humble. She doesn't get offended. She doesn't demand her rights. She doesn't tell Jesus how he should run the universe. Instead she says, "Lord, even the dogs eat the scraps that fall from their master's table.” What incredible humility! Humility isn't thinking we're worthless. It's knowing who God is and who we are. It's recognizing that everything we receive from him is a gift, not an entitlement. And that's why Jesus responds with one of the greatest compliments he gives anyone in the Gospels: "O woman, great is your faith!"

Imagine hearing that praise from the Son of God!! Many of the religious leaders who knew the Scriptures inside and out never heard those words. But this foreign woman did. Why?Because inclusion in God's family has never been about ancestry, status, or privilege. It has always been about faith. The invitation is universal but the response is personal.

The Church still proclaims exactly that message today. Every person is invited into friendship with Jesus Christ. Every person is welcomed into his saving love. There is no one beyond his mercy.

But following Christ has never been easy. It requires trust when life doesn't make sense. Ongoing perseverance when our prayers seem unanswered. Humility when God asks us to surrender our own plans and accept his. In other words, inclusion does not mean comfort…it means conversion.

The good news is that the same Lord who challenged the Canaanite woman also healed her daughter. The same Lord who tested her faith rewarded it beyond anything she could have imagined. He will do the same for us.

Perhaps this week, each of us can ask ourselves: Which of these virtues do I need most right now? Do I need greater trust? Greater perseverance? Greater humility?

If we learn those lessons from this remarkable woman, then we, too, will discover what she discovered: that God's mercy is for everyone…but it is received by those who approach him with a believing, persevering, and humble heart.

Keep Your Eye On the Ball! (19th Sunday, Year A)

  Like most kids growing up in America, one of the first sports I learned to play was baseball. Every single coach repeated the same instruction over and over again (and you know what that lesson was!) "Keep your eye on the ball.” It sounds simple, but it's really difficult with everything else going on around you on the field. If you keep your eye on the ball, you can hit it, field it cleanly, and know when to run. But the moment your eyes wander, mistakes happen. That's why baseball players spend countless hours practicing so that focus can become second nature. It is not something you are born with but something that must be trained.

The spiritual life isn't much different. In today's Gospel, Peter begins with incredible focus. The wind is howling, the waves are crashing, and the other apostles are terrified. But Peter's attention is fixed on one thing: Jesus. "Lord, if it is you, command me to come to you on the water.” Jesus responds with an invitation, “Come." And Peter does something no human being has ever done. He steps out of the boat and walks on water. For those few moments, Peter doesn't simply admire Jesus…he becomes like Him. Isn't that what every disciple is called to do?

But then he sinks like a rock. What changes? The storm doesn't suddenly become worse. The waves were already there. Peter sinks because his focus changes. The Gospel says, "When he saw how strong the wind was, he became frightened.” As long as Peter keeps his eyes on Jesus, he can do the impossible. The moment he focuses on the storm, he begins to sink. That is one of the great spiritual lessons in this Gospel.

Our challenge to holiness and peace isn't that we have storms. Every generation has had them. Our problem is that we live in an age where everything competes for our attention. News, social media, emails, text messages, entertainment, endless schedules constantly pull at our sleeve…even when the world around us is quiet, our minds rarely are. None of these things are necessarily sinful. But every one of them competes for the attention that belongs first to Christ.

If we're going to keep our eyes on Jesus, like Peter did, we have to train our attention. The first way we do that is by making room for silence. The first reading gives us Elijah waiting for the Lord. God isn't found in the wind, the earthquake, or the fire. At various times, God has appeared in those things but not now. He comes in the tiny whisper. That is usually how God works. He doesn't force Himself into our lives. He doesn't shout over all the other voices competing for our attention. He whispers.

Which raises an uncomfortable question. If God whispers, and my life is constant noise, is it any mystery why I struggle to hear Him? That's why the Church values silence so much. The quiet before Mass, the silence after the readings, after the homily, after Communion…those moments aren't random. They're opportunities to hear the voice of the Lord. The same is true in the other parts of our lives. If every drive has a podcast, every free moment belongs to our phone, and every evening is filled with background noise, we shouldn't be surprised if God seems distant.

The second way we keep our eyes on Jesus is by becoming intentional about our attention. Attention is one of the great gifts God has given us because whatever receives our attention eventually shapes our heart. The truth is, we can only really focus on one thing at a time. Every "yes" is also a hundred “no's." If I say yes to every commitment, every notification, every request, every opportunity, then I've already decided that Jesus will receive whatever scraps of attention happen to be left over. That's why we need margins in our lives. We need time that isn't scheduled, moments that aren't filled, space where God is allowed to visit us.

Which brings us to the third way of training our focus on Christ, which is, wherever we choose to be, we should be fully there. Another way to say it is, "Be where your feet are.” When you're praying, pray. When you're with your spouse, really listen. When you're with your children or grandchildren, put the phone down. When you're at Mass, be at Mass. One of the greatest gifts we can give another person, and one of the greatest honors we can show God, is our undivided attention.

Finally, don't just fight your distractions. Learn from them. Most of us become frustrated when our minds wander during prayer. But instead of immediately pulling ourselves back, pause for a moment and ask, "Why did my mind go there?” Very often our distractions reveal our hearts. If I keep worrying about work, perhaps I'm carrying anxiety I haven't surrendered to God. If I keep replaying an argument, maybe there's someone I need to forgive. If I keep dreaming about success or recognition, perhaps I've started looking for my identity somewhere other than Christ.

Our distractions often reveal what we love the most, fear the most, or desire the most. Instead of hiding those things from Jesus, hand them to Him. Sometimes the very distraction we resent is the place where Jesus wants to begin His healing.

Baseball players don't keep their eye on the ball because it's easy. They do it because they've trained themselves through thousands of small choices. The spiritual life works exactly the same way. The storms aren't going away. Peter still had wind. Elijah still had the wilderness. We will still have worries, responsibilities, suffering, and uncertainty. The key is whether we look at the storm or look at Jesus.

So maybe that's the question for all of us this week. What am I focused on right now? Is it Jesus? If not, what keeps pulling my eyes away from Him? What competes for my attention? What small change do I need to make so that my eyes remain fixed on Him?

We can have confidence that Christ is already focused on us with laser-like intensity. He is inviting us to come closer. Keep your eyes on him. And be confident, that even if you falter…all you have to do is cry out, ˆ”Lord, Save me” and he will save us from sinking!