The Cost of Discipleship

Homily for the Twenty-third Sunday in Ordinary Time

While the Scriptures, and in particular the Gospels, were written in a specific context that must be understood in order to interpret them accurately, we also have to remember that we read them in our own context. I start out this way this morning because I could preach about today’s readings and explain the message they convey from the context in which they are written. However, as I read them and thought about them prayerfully, I came away from the experience overwhelmed by how certain words simply struck a disturbing chord for me.

The Gospel begins today by telling us that Jesus was traveling with great crowds. Once again, St. Luke reminds us that Jesus is resolutely determined to reach Jerusalem. He knows, as do we, that when he reaches his destination, he will be arrested, accused by the Jewish leaders, and crucified by the Romans. Can his disciples expect the same? In the case of the apostles, they did follow Jesus to their deaths.

He turns to the crowd that is traveling with him and tells them that if they wish to be his disciple, they have to hate mother, father, wife and children, brothers and sisters, and even one’s own life. Not only do we find this a disturbing message, because we live in a society that is currently so filled with hateful words and deeds, it is difficult to put these words into context. I would imagine that it was also difficult for them to hear such words.

We must understand that Jesus is speaking in an eschatological context. This means that we must think of this message as the criteria which will be used when we face God for judgment. The notion of hatred is difficult to envision when we speak of family. However, as I have said before, the theme of Ordinary Time consistently speaks of the cost of our discipleship. Jesus is trying to impress upon his followers that discipleship comes at a very dear price. Jesus insists that the commitment of discipleship requires a careful cost analysis much like one estimates the cost of a construction project or the waging of war. Yet it is difficult in our current social situation to get past the word “hate.” There is so much hate being spewed out of the mouths of so many people, including people in high places, that the word itself sits heavily on my heart this morning.

Our new Holy Father, Pope Leo XIV, has been stressing the need for members of the church to remain unified. Such unity also comes with a price tag. Fundamentalists who desire to hang onto old traditions must come to recognize that Church teaching evolves with time. We have an example of that in the second reading for today in which St. Paul begs Philemon to forgive Onesimus, a runaway slave and a thief. Slavery is a concept that Church teaching no longer accepts. Church teachings evolve slowly but surely.

There are times when our scriptures may make little sense to us because the words are of another era or because they hit us at particular moments of struggle. We like to think that the Word of God brings comfort, but they can also bring necessary challenge; we don’t want to consider that the words of a Gospel or of our ancestors in faith may feel off or even wrong. Context matters, not just in discerning the meaning of ancient sacred texts, but in terms of our personal and communal engagement with these readings from the particular places we find ourselves in these moments of engagement.

There is practical wisdom in a lectionary cycle. The readings that we use for Sunday Mass are grouped in three cycles. None of us are in the same place that we were in three years ago when we last confronted these readings. Consequently, our engagement with them comes from a different place — we read them, and they read us anew. In this time, from this place, the costliness of hatred is very dear, indeed. Remember how you felt when you first heard the news of the recent shooting incident in Minneapolis. This is just one example of how our current context makes the rejection of family a seemingly unreasonable price to pay for discipleship. In three years, let us pray that our times have changed and that we will not have to deal with the disturbing feelings that these particular readings evoke in 2025.  When these readings return on the 23rd Sunday in Ordinary Time in 2028, we can earnestly hope that people, including immigrants and refugees, as well as people of different races, nationalities, and religions will not still be feeling the impact of hate in their lives.

These words impact me differently especially today. September 7 was the day on which my mother and father were married 79 years ago. They have all gone home to the Father; consequently, I offer this Mass for them and, by extention, my brothers and sisters. Words about hating one’s family simply don’t fit with my context today. Let us hope for a day when all hatred has been set aside. The Eucharist is our memorial of the death and resurrection of Jesus through which we have been reconciled with God. Let us continue to pray for reconciliation among all peoples.