Homily for Twenty-second Sunday in Ordinary Time - Year A

The readings for Twenty-second Sunday in Ordinary Time may be found at:

https://bible.usccb.org/bible/readings/083026.cfm

This week, the evangelist St. Matthew shares a scene that should make us uncomfortable.

Peter loves Jesus. 

Peter believes in Jesus. 

But Peter wants Jesus on Peter's terms.

We all have a little Peter in us.

Because there are some things in life we don’t want to hear.

And in those moments, our first reaction may be, No, this cannot be happening.

Today, Jesus tells His disciples that He must go to Jerusalem, suffer, be killed, and on the third day be raised.

Peter’s immediate response is “God forbid, Lord! No such thing shall ever happen to you.”

We can understand Peter.

Peter loves Jesus. 

He has left everything to follow Him. 

But Peter had his own idea about what following Jesus should look like.

And so do we.

We want Jesus.

We want His peace.

We want His promises.

But we don’t always want what it takes to get there.

Jesus tells Peter, “You are thinking not as God does, but as human beings do.”

And then Jesus turns to His disciples, and to us, and says,

“Whoever wishes to come after me must deny himself, take up his cross, and follow me.”

Throughout the Gospels, Jesus invites us to follow Him.

And when He does, He’s not just asking us to admire Him or to just know things about Him.

And He certainly is not asking us to spend an hour with Him on the weekend and then live the rest of the week like He doesn’t exist.

He says, “Follow me” or in other words, give me your life.

Walk with Me.

Love as I love.

Forgive as I forgive.

Serve as I serve.

Trust the Father as I trust the Father.

Be willing to follow Me wherever that road leads.

And sometimes that road leads to the Cross.

We don’t have to go looking.

Life gives us enough crosses on its own.

Jesus didn’t go around searching for ways to suffer and neither should we.

Maybe taking up our cross is much simpler - and much harder - than we sometimes imagine.

Accepting what we would rather avoid.

Remaining faithful when walking away would be easier.

Forgiving when we would rather hold onto the anger.

Serving someone when we would rather serve ourselves.

Getting up tomorrow morning and following Jesus again.

And then doing it again and again and again.

Following Jesus means that, little by little, something in us has to die.

Each time we put someone else's needs before our own, a little selfishness dies.

Each time we forgive, a little pride dies.

Each time we give rather than take, a little self-centeredness dies.

Each time we say, “Lord, not my will, but Yours be done” something in us dies so that something better can live.

Maybe that is what taking up the Cross looks like most days.

Not one heroic act, but a thousand small decisions to follow Jesus.

Jesus continues,

“Whoever wishes to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake will find it.”

And while that may sound like a contradiction, it’s at the heart of what it means to follow Jesus.

The world tells us to protect ourselves, put ourselves first, and make life as comfortable as possible. 

But we were not created for comfort. 

We were created to love, to serve, and ultimately to give ourselves away.

In a few moments, the ultimate giving will happen at this altar.

Jesus doesn’t just tell us to give ourselves away.

He does it first.

“This is my Body, which will be given up for you.”

That’s what love looks like.

That’s what the Cross looks like.

And that’s what following Jesus looks like.

So maybe the question for us this week is not simply,

“What cross am I carrying?”

The more important question is,

“Am I following Jesus while I carry it?”

Because suffering by itself is simply suffering. 

But when we unite our suffering to Christ and follow Him through it, even suffering can become a place of grace.

Peter heard Jesus speak about suffering and death, but he couldn't yet understand where that road was leading.

And sometimes neither can we.

But that’s why Jesus doesn't simply tell us to carry the Cross.

He tells us to follow Him.

Because the road with Jesus may pass through the Cross.

But it doesn't ends there.

It leads to resurrection.

It leads to new life.

It leads us home.

Homily for Twentieth Sunday in Ordinary Time - Year A

The readings for Twentieth Sunday in Ordinary Time may be found at:

https://bible.usccb.org/bible/readings/081626.cfm

Today, the evangelist St. Matthew 

introduces us to a woman who just won’t give up.

She is a Canaanite woman.

An outsider.

And more importantly, a mother whose daughter is suffering terribly.

And every parent understands that.

When your child is hurting, you hurt.

So this mother comes to Jesus and cries out,

“Have pity on me, Lord, Son of David!”

Eventually, kneeling before Him and saying just three words,

“Lord, help me.”

Those three words tell us something very important about prayer, we need God.

We spend so much of our lives trying to handle things ourselves.

Fix our own problems.

Make our own plans.

Stay in control.

And then life gives us something we cannot fix.

And suddenly we discover we are not as in control as we thought.

Maybe that is where some of our deepest prayer begins,

when we finally admit we need God.

That is what this woman does.

She kneels before Him and says,

“Lord, help me.”

At first, Jesus says nothing.

The disciples want to send her away.

And then the scene becomes really uncomfortable.

Jesus says,

“It is not right to take the food of the children and throw it to the dogs.”

Ouch.

This woman could have become offended.

She could have walked away.

Instead, she takes the very image Jesus gives her and turns it into a prayer,

“Please, Lord, for even the dogs eat the scraps that fall from the table of their masters.”

She’s not trying to win an argument with Jesus. 

She just continues trusting Jesus.

That is humility.

That’s persistence.

She isn't saying, “Lord, I deserve this.”

She is saying, “Lord, I trust that even the smallest gift of Your mercy is enough.”

She could have become angry.

She could have walked away.

But she stays.

Jesus is silent. She stays.

The disciples want her gone. She stays.

The answer she gets is difficult. She stays.

She stays and she keeps praying.

The Catechism of the Catholic Church points to this woman as an example of prayer offered with ‘loving persistence’.

You can look that up in CCC 2610.

Persistence in prayer isn't about wearing God down until He gives us what we want.

It is about trusting Him enough to keep coming back.

Jesus finally says:

"O woman, great is your faith! Let it be done for you as you wish."

And her daughter is healed.

Her persistence does not earn God's mercy. 

Instead, it reveals a faith that refuses to stop trusting in Him.

And in the process, this woman becomes our teacher.

If you prayed yesterday and nothing happened - 

pray today.

If you have been praying for months -

keep praying.

If you have been praying for years -

keep bringing it to Jesus.

Not because God will always give us exactly what we ask for.

Prayer isn't a transaction.

Sometimes God changes the situation.

Sometimes He changes us.

Sometimes He opens a door.

Sometimes He gives us the strength to accept what we cannot change.

But persistent prayer keeps us close to Him through all of it.

So think about the situation you’ve been carrying in prayer.

Bring it to Jesus again.

Not, “Lord, You owe it to me.” But, “Lord, help me.”

Sometimes great faith doesn’t have to be dramatic.

Sometimes great faith is simply showing up before God one more time.

One more prayer.

One more Rosary.

One more Mass.

One more visit before the Blessed Sacrament.

One more, “Lord, help me.”

And there is one more thing.

This woman believed that a crumb from the table of Jesus would be enough.

And look where we are today.

We’ve been invited to the table of the Lord.

Where we are not offered crumbs.

In the Eucharist, Christ gives us Himself.

His Body and Blood.

His Real Presence.

She believed that even a crumb from the Lord's table was enough.

How much more should we trust the One who gives us not a crumb, but nothing less than Himself?

This week, let us remember the lessons of the Canaanite woman.

To go to the Lord.

To stay, even when it is hard.

To pray  “Lord, help me.”

Because He hears.

He sees.

He knows.

And even when His answer

is not the answer we expected,

He never abandons

the one

who calls upon Him.

Lord, help me.