FOURTEENTH SUNDAY OF ORDINARY TIME – YEAR A
Matthew 11:25-30
THE TEXT BELOW IS THE TRANSCRIPTION OF THE VIDEO COMMENTARY BY FR. FERNANDO ARMELLINI
Greetings to all.
To understand the prayer that Jesus offered to the Father and that is related to today’s Gospel passage, we must contextualize it within the moment Jesus was going through during his public life, a challenging time marked by hostility and abandonment. It was one of those moments we also go through when things take a bad turn and we can’t explain why certain things happen. In such times, we need to orient ourselves and know what decisions to make.
What was happening? The scribes and the Pharisees opposed him from the beginning because they immediately recognized a dangerous innovator who challenged all their traditions, especially because he preached a God who condemned no one and loved everyone unconditionally. In his person, he perfectly embodied this image of a God who is good and only good to all. Jesus was with the poor, with the tax collectors, with sinners; he caressed the lepers, and he was with the excluded.
The scribes of the synagogues taught something else: that God loved only the good, not the bad; he kept the bad away; he didn’t want them near him. Of course, they could not help but look at this young rabbi from Nazareth with hostility and had continual contentious confrontations with him. At this time, these hostilities were heightened. Unlike the scribes, the people of the simple town of Capernaum welcomed Jesus enthusiastically at the beginning.
Why did even the simple people begin to abandon him? The reason is simple: they had begun to understand what Jesus was asking of them and proposing. They had approached him to ask for favors, prodigies, in short, always just to obtain something from him. Instead, Jesus asked them to be converted, that is, to learn to give. He taught ‘to give,’ and they understood ‘to have.’ He taught that blessed are those who give everything, those who become poor, and they, on the other hand, dreamed of becoming rich. The apostles also cultivated these life projects. When people understood that he proposed a new greatness, not the greatness of those who command and are served, but the greatness of those who serve, it is no wonder that simple people began to like this masterless and less.
The evangelist Matthew dedicates two chapters of his Gospel, chapters 11 and 12, to recount what happened during this crisis. Chapter 11 introduces us to the first person to enter a crisis, one we would not have expected: John the Baptist. He had been imprisoned in Machaerus and was well treated by King Herod Antipas, who esteemed him. The Baptist could receive visits from his disciples and be kept informed of what Jesus preached and did.
But the Baptist had predicted that the Messiah would intervene forcefully to separate the chaff from the wheat and burn the chaff in an unquenchable fire. Then he said he would wield the axe to cut the roots of unproductive trees, and now, instead, he learns that Jesus hung out with sinners; instead of burning that chaff, which is wicked, he was with them. That is why one day the Baptist sent a delegation to ask him: ‘Are you the one who is to come, or should we wait for someone else to do what I have said should be done?’
All that the Baptist had said was true, but he had misunderstood. The straw was not the people, as he pretended, but the evil present in each person. The trees to be cut down were not the people, who are all loved by God; they are all sons and daughters of God and, therefore, in no way can they be thrown into the fire. The evil roots present in every person are the destructive impulses that block the lifeblood and prevent them from bearing fruit; it is these roots that the Messiah would cut with his axe, which is his Gospel, his word, and burn them in his fire. And God knows only one fire, the fire of love and his Spirit; this Spirit cuts the roots of evil in each person’s heart. If anyone speaks of yet another fire, do not listen to them, because it is blasphemy… the fire into which God would send his sons and daughters is great blasphemy.
Matthew records a painful exclamation from Jesus in this challenging moment, directed toward the cities where he had preached more than anywhere else. At a certain point, he said, “Woe to you, Chorazin, woe to you, Capernaum, woe to you, Bethsaida.” Let us be careful with this ‘woe’ because it does not convey the sense of the expression Jesus used. His cry is ‘hoi,’ a cry of pain, a funeral wail.
‘Hoi! What are they doing?’ He feels a cry of pain in his heart over these cities’ choice; they did not welcome the kingdom of God. This is the harrowing moment when Jesus begins to pray. Let us also add that not only the people but also his relatives misunderstood what he was proposing to them. In fact, at one point they came from Nazareth to look for him because they said he had gone mad. This is when Jesus says, ‘Who is my mother? Who are my brothers? They all accept the proposal of life that I make and put it into practice.’
In this climate of response, it is a difficult moment for Jesus as he offers his prayer to the heavenly Father. Let us listen to how this prayer begins:
I praise you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth!
This is the difficult moment Jesus lived through in Capernaum, and if we reflect a little, we immediately realize that it is not very different from what we live through today. There were many abandonments in Capernaum, and today there are many in our Christian communities. The reasons for these abandonments are not different from those of the people of Capernaum, Chorazin, and Bethsaida. They were looking for Jesus to perform prodigies and healings, and this was also what happened to many Christians who prayed and approached Jesus to obtain healings, favors, and miracles; and when these things began to be obtained through science and technology, they no longer felt the need for Jesus; they sought from him what he never promised.
He promised his light and his Spirit, not that he would substitute for what we must do. Today, we see that so many sisters and brothers, especially young people, are leaving our communities; religious practice is diminishing; and, in our society, proposals for life choices and moral options make less and less reference to the Gospel. The criteria that are in vogue are different. We are also aware of what is happening in many European countries, where churches are being converted into museums, gyms, and supermarkets, or simply closed. Then there are the secularists who make us angry because they rejoice in this situation and say that Christianity is in decline, that the Church is an institution that should resign itself to disappearing because it has had its day.
How do we behave when faced with a situation similar to the one Jesus lived in? We are very different from Jesus. Let’s consider whether we pay attention to the speeches we hear from our brothers of faith who say that we are becoming more and more insignificant in our society, that it is useless to preach the Gospel because nobody listens to us anymore, and that is why they lower their arms, sadden themselves, bow their heads, and resign themselves. Then it is time to ask ourselves how Jesus lived through that difficult moment, and how he lived it differently from us. That’s the point; the reason is that he prayed, and we don’t pray. Let’s not confuse prayer with the repetition of formulas. To pray means to tune in to God’s thoughts, and we must listen to his word to see reality as he sees it.
That is what Jesus did. He was always in tune with the heavenly Father’s thoughts and heart. Only by praying can one see things rightly. There is pain, and it can be a sign of approaching death, but it can also signify a life about to be born. If we pray, we will see our situation not as the proximity of death but as the opportune moment of a new birth, of the blossoming of a more beautiful, more evangelical church. Even Jesus was tempted to give up, but he prayed and found the light to see that the heavenly Father was inspiring him.
And what did he exclaim? “I give praise to you, Father.” This is when Jesus would say, ‘I don’t understand anything anymore… I wonder if the Lord is with me…’ No, Jesus praises the Father; in prayer he understood that what was taking place was part of God’s plan, and he proclaimed with joy that the Father’s plan is beautiful and positive, even amid these dark moments. His human gaze made him see failure; instead, prayer made him see the unfolding of the heavenly Father’s plan through complicated, even seemingly absurd, situations. If, in prayer, we detach ourselves from ourselves and our anxieties and let ourselves be led upward to see things as the Father sees them, our whole life would change, becoming more serene, joyful, restful, and balanced.
What is Jesus’ prayer like? First, to whom is it addressed? It’s addressed to the Father. The word ‘Father’ is repeated no fewer than five times in three verses, and in the Gospels, it appears 182 times, always on the lips of Jesus, who, when addressing God, always speaks of the Father. Only once, on Philip’s lips, when he asks Jesus to show the Father, is he called ‘Abba.’ ‘Abba’ is the tender appellative of the child who trusts unthinkingly in the father by whom he feels loved. Even if he has a tantrum, he knows the father loves him.
Even the pagans called God Father. Jupiter was ‘Iovis pater,’ but for the Christian, Father has another meaning. Father is the one who gives his own life; it is the life of the Eternal, given to us. It is not the biological life that comes from the dust, but the life that comes from heaven. Jesus wants to introduce us to this intimate relationship with God. God is not the pharaoh we should fear, before whom we must bow on our knees—no… no more kneeling. The son does not kneel before the father. We have complicated our lives with the inventions of the Father, who punishes and sends us to hell… we have complicated our lives uselessly. Jesus never spoke of these things.
After calling him Father, he calls him “Lord of heaven and earth,” the ‘παντοκράτωρ’ – ‘pantocrátor,’ that is, the one who holds in his hands the history of the world. We must not be afraid, because the destiny of humanity is in the hands of the Father who loves us. Even when events occur that are incomprehensible to us, beyond our schemes and criteria, if we pray, we have the certainty that the Father continues to love us and is the one who guides our lives.
Let’s now listen to the reason why Jesus blesses the Father:
Although you have hidden these things from the wise and the learned, you have revealed them to the childlike.
In his prayer, Jesus blesses the Father for both positive and negative reasons. The first is negative: “have hidden these things from the wise and the learned.” What are these things he has hidden? They are the Gospel, the Good News, and the beauty of God that Jesus reveals; they are the new man that Jesus incarnates, the man who alone can love. These are things that have been hidden from the scribes and the Pharisees. It is not that God wanted to hide them; it is they who rejected them. Their minds were clouded by their convictions, by their wisdom, which they did not intend to renounce. They defended the God they had created for themselves, the God that looked like them and who, therefore, was equal to them and evil like them because he took vengeance on those who transgressed his commands.
To these self-filled people, the revelation of God’s beautiful and loving face was hidden. They refused to accept it. Jesus was indeed astonished by this refusal. He probably expected the scribes and Pharisees, who knew the Scriptures and the words of the Prophets, to be the first to give him their allegiance; instead, they became hostile.
What did Jesus discover in prayer? He accepted God’s surprise in this fact. If he had not prayed, he would not have understood that the surprise God used to counter the rejection of the Gospel by the wise and learned was to open wide the entrance to the kingdom of God for the little ones. The scribes and Pharisees despised the unlearned and uneducated. A famous rabbi taught that an uneducated, illiterate person would be a sinner and could never be a pious person. Let us now imagine what would have happened if all these wise men had become disciples… they would have prevented sinners, the poor, and the ignorant from entering the Christian community. The Acts of the Apostles describe the severe problems in the primitive Church when many Pharisees were converted.
God revealed the beauty of his face to the little ones, that is, to those with simple, pure hearts who are always ready to accept the truth. Jesus rejoices in this revelation he received in prayer. Now we ask ourselves whether there is an explanation or justification for what has happened. Let us listen:
Yes, Father, such has been your gracious will. All things have been handed over to me by my Father. No one knows the Son except the Father, and no one knows the Father except the Son and those to whom the Son wishes to reveal him.
What does Jesus mean by saying, “Yes, Father, that has been your gracious will”? It does not mean that what has happened is good. The rejection of the Gospel by the scribes and Pharisees is not good; it did not please the Father. What pleased him? He was pleased to draw something good from that sin; the good was the entrance into the kingdom of God of the poor and little ones.
The message for us is this: The invitation to learn, as Jesus did, to grasp in prayer the plan of God’s love, which is always present even in events that seem absurd to us. Our history is in the hands of the Father, who always knows how to extract good even from evil.
Then Jesus continues: “All things have been handed over to me by my Father. No one knows the Son except the Father, and no one knows the Father except the Son and anyone to whom the Son wishes to reveal him.” What does this mean? Jesus is saying he has brought into the world the revelation of God’s beauty. In Jesus, God has become visible, and we have the joy and fortune of discovering this beauty of God through his Gospel. Previously, no one would have imagined, nor could have imagined, such a God. The Son, his perfect image, has revealed the Father to us. To know God, the true God, we must look to him. But let us remember that we cannot accept this revelation unless we become small.
Let us now listen to the invitation that Jesus extends to us:
Come to me, all you who labor and are burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am meek and humble, and you will find rest for yourselves. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.
The relationship with God should always be a source of joy and celebration. The Lord addresses his word to us because he wants us to be free, serene, and happy. Why does Jesus speak here of tired and burdened people? He is referring precisely to the religion of his time. The reason is that the spiritual leaders had burdened the simple people, those called ‘am ha’aretz,’ the people of the land. They had burdened these people with impositions that had nothing to do with the word of God; they were people’s precepts. Just think how they had reduced the precept of the Sabbath, which God had willed to prevent man from being alienated by constant work and, above all, to protect the weakest, the slaves, and the foreigners who made them work even on the Sabbath day.
The spiritual leaders had invented a series of prohibitions and limitations. They had defined 39 forbidden actions, and each of these 39 actions had an infinite number of specifications. Behold the unbearable yoke of human precepts. When Peter gathered the assembly of disciples in Jerusalem, there were Pharisees there who had been converted and who also wanted the Christians to hold to religious traditions. Peter said, ‘Why do you tempt God by putting a yoke around the neck of the disciples, which even our forefathers did not put on, nor we could ever fulfill?’
This is why weariness and oppression are precepts invented by men. Let us be careful, because Jesus speaks to us today. If we perceive that in our religious practice there is something that wearies us, that makes us feel oppressed, or that does not convince us because it does not come from God’s word, let us have the courage to shake off these precepts immediately. Then Jesus invites us to come to him for rest.
What is this rest? It is not what we think of when we rest or sleep. No, here is a Hebrew word that is repeated in the Bible, מְנוּחָה, ‘menuháh.’ It signifies rest in the promised land for one who has left slavery and entered the land of freedom. Jesus promises and offers us his land of freedom: the kingdom of God, where those who accept his beatitudes enter.
Jesus tells us: ‘Do not seek joy, serenity, or peace far from me; you will not find them. Only if you come to me and accept my Gospel will you find rest, because you were made for the Gospel. Take my yoke upon you; unload the yoke invented by men. The yoke that I bring is also yours.’
What does this yoke consist of? It is the precept that does not come from outside; it comes from your identity as a son or daughter of God. You are well done, and you immediately recognize a request for love when someone in need asks you for a favor. You hear a precept within you, and you feel a voice, the voice of the Spirit, telling you, ‘Love,’ and to serve the brother who asks you for help. This is the yoke that is well adapted.
Here is also the Greek word ‘χρηστός’ (greatestós), which is translated as ‘sweet.’ It does not mean ‘sweet’ in the sense of pleasantness; rather, it indicates a willingness to serve, to be helpful, and to be virtuous and good. The only precept that fits well with our human nature is the one that comes from the Spirit, the voice of the Spirit that urges you to love. ‘Learn of me,’ says Jesus. He has always listened only to the voice of his divine sonship, and from it came his meekness of heart.
What does meek mean? In ordinary usage, it is understood to mean the quiet person who does not react to provocations and accepts even injustice. But let us be careful, because it does not mean being resigned and not fighting for justice, even when injustice is suffered. No, the meek are those who do not respond with violence but face conflicts to obtain justice so that justice may prevail. Jesus experienced dramatic conflicts, but he always faced them with the dispositions of heart that characterize the meek, the one who never yields to the temptation to respond with violence, who always acts only out of love.
And Jesus is humble of heart, not only meek but humble. In Greek, the term is ‘ταπεινός’ (‘tapeinos’), and there are many Hebrew adjectives that correspond to this Greek adjective, but the most significant in Hebrew is חַנָּה (‘hannav’); it comes from the verb ‘Hanna,’ which means to bow down, to lower the head. Who is the one who bows and lowers his head? It is not the pharaoh; it is not the great ruler with many servants, no. Those do not bow their heads; they stand erect and raise their voices. The one who bows his head is the slave, the servant, who is always ready to receive orders from his master.
Jesus presents God—and this is the image of God that overturns the God we have invented—as a servant. Being love, he cannot be anything but a servant, because the opposite of love is dominion, being great, and giving orders. Here, Jesus presents himself as a servant, ‘hannav.’ This is the image of God that Jesus came to show us, the true face of God. And in fact, he initiated the new Kingdom, not the Kingdom of the masters but the Kingdom of the servants. Interestingly, when he enters Jerusalem, he does not enter on a horse as the great kings did, but as a servant. He fulfills the prophecy of Zechariah, who had said that the righteous king would enter Jerusalem riding on an ass and would be humble (‘hannav’).
Such is the new king, humble “of heart.” In Semitic culture, the heart not only indicates the seat of affection but also represents the idea of our heart. By heart, they meant what we mean by the head. We made decisions with the head; they made them with the heart, where it all started. Here, Jesus presents himself as “meek and humble of heart,” that is, decisions always come from the heart of one who serves, never from that of one who attacks and seeks to impose himself.
Here we now have the image of the new world to be built. We can change the world if we adhere to this king who presents himself with a meek and humble heart. We don’t like so many things, and we would like to change them. Everybody is trying to change them, but always keeping a heart that is not humble and meek. They will never change it; if they want to change the world, they will continue with competition, being the masters. They will change the actors, but the result will always be the same.
Jesus proposes changing the script of this play, not the script in which all are masters and all want to dominate and impose themselves, but the world we are presented with, as he is, with his yoke, which is the yoke of love. If you respond to that voice of the Spirit which urges you to love as he loved you, you will change the world. Behold the new world built by those who have embraced this new kingdom.
I wish you all a good Sunday and a good week.
