Gospel Lectio Divina for Twenty-first Sunday in Ordinary Time - August 21, 2022
Come Holy Spirit, fill the hearts of your faithful and kindle in them the fire of your love. Send forth your Spirit and they shall be created. And You shall renew the face of the earth.
O, God, who by the light of the Holy Spirit, did instruct the hearts of the faithful, grant that by the same Holy Spirit we may be truly wise and ever enjoy His consolations, Through Christ Our Lord, Amen.
Lk 13: 22-30
Jesus passed through towns and villages,
teaching as he went and making his way to Jerusalem.
Someone asked him,
"Lord, will only a few people be saved?"
He answered them,
"Strive to enter through the narrow gate,
for many, I tell you, will attempt to enter
but will not be strong enough.
After the master of the house has arisen and locked the door,
then will you stand outside knocking and saying,
'Lord, open the door for us.'
He will say to you in reply,
'I do not know where you are from.
And you will say,
'We ate and drank in your company and you taught in our streets.'
Then he will say to you,
'I do not know where you are from.
Depart from me, all you evildoers!'
And there will be wailing and grinding of teeth
when you see Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob
and all the prophets in the kingdom of God
and you yourselves cast out.
And people will come from the east and the west
and from the north and the south
and will recline at table in the kingdom of God.
For behold, some are last who will be first,
and some are first who will be last."
MEDITATE
"Strive to enter through the narrow gate, for many, I tell you, will attempt to enter but will not be strong enough.”
I could just think my heart, mind and soul will be in the right place once I arrive at the gates of heaven. What if they’re not, though. Jesus is saying it will take my whole life to prepare. To “strive” to enter the narrow gate means to spend my life honing my virtues, and becoming small enough to enter. Humility has to be the first requirement then. It is said that humility is the prerequisite for all virtues, because without it we won’t even admit that we need to work on any
part of ourselves. The first step to recovery is admitting my own weakness. We are all suffering from fallen human nature; I am most of all. The humility required to enter the narrow gate echoes St. John the Baptist’s words, “I must decrease and he must increase." It was true when Jesus came to the Jordan River at the start of his ministry, and it will be true when Jesus comes at the end of my life. There will probably also be a wide gate, and many people will be going that way. Jesus’ portent here is very real and vital, then. He wouldn’t tell us to enter the narrow gate if it were an easy choice. If that were the case we would figure it out ourselves. Rather, like most of Christ’s advice, it goes against common rhetoric and is even counterintuitive. Learning how to enter through the narrow gate will take years of practice.
“I do not know where you are from.”
During my first few readings of this, I read Jesus saying, “I do not know you.” I don’t know why that’s how I read it, because he actually says “I do not know where you are from.” What’s the difference? Well, Jesus does know them. He knows everyone. But he does not know sin, so if they are coming from a place of sin he would know where they are from. I can relate, sadly. I’ve considered myself to be a part of a Catholic community for quite some time. That doesn’t mean I don’t sin, though. I try to go to Confession, but the fact is there are times when that sin remains on my soul. If I were to go to Jesus while that sin remained in me, he would turn me away if I were not remorseful, just like he does in today’s Gospel. It’s as if he is saying, “You’re not yourself. Go clean up first.” We all have a longing for holiness, and Jesus is calling us to it. We may think it would be more loving if he just accepted everyone regardless of the condition of their souls, but doing that would disregard their true desire to be someone better. Jesus’ message is a gift. He is giving us a chance to notice our sinfulness now, so when we do reach the gates of heaven he will recognize where we are from and will welcome us.
Depart from me, all you evildoers!
As much as many preachers try to soften the Gospels, every week Jesus is sharing his hard truth. But here it is from Jesus’ very mouth, “there will be wailing and grinding of teeth.” We can’t sugarcoat it. I wish I could change the way he says it, but this is Jesus’ method: He comes right out and states the fate of those who do not follow him. It’s a good and loving thing for him to do so, because we are so blind to the spiritual realities that assail us we probably would have no idea of what our fate is without Christ if he did not tell us. It may shock us when we read Jesus’ words like, “Depart from me, all you evildoers!” But if we come to him already humble and remorseful, prepared to be forgiven, assuming nothing, he will not speak to us that way. He is speaking to those who feel entitled, those who have assumed a seat at the table. But humility is tricky. The moment we think we are being humble, pride seeps back in and credits us for our humility and we need to start over. How do we avoid this? I like taking the advice of C.S. Lewis, who said, “A really humble man will not be thinking about humility… He won’t be thinking of himself at all.”
“For behold, some are last who will be first, and some are first who will be last."
It’s not about me. The quicker I notice that, the happier I will be. The sooner I can realize that it doesn’t matter if I get ahead, it doesn’t matter what other people think of me, the better off my day will be. And it does take daily reminders, because there’s this constant fear in the back of my mind that says I’ll be left behind. Being left behind in the race of life is not as bad as being dismissed by Jesus, though. He tells us to store up our treasures in heaven, treasures such as the virtues–because those last while the things the world tells us to chase after really do not. We will be looked down upon for upholding the values Jesus teaches, but we will have this reassurance in our souls that runs deeper than anything the world can give us. It’s that deeper meaning we’re all after, and that’s what Jesus offers.
PRAY
Dear heavenly Father,
When I come to you humbly, you remind me who I am. You remind me of the simple moments when there was just you and me, and I did not care what the world thought. Bring me back to those moments so I can recognize you for who you really are, and so you can recognize where I am from. I don’t want to come from a place of sin anymore. Show me the way back to your kingdom and help me build it up here on earth so more people can proclaim that they come from
there when they reach the gates of heaven. In Jesus’ name I pray. Amen
LISTEN
Sometimes I stop listening to what Christ, Mary and the saints have to say to me, because their words are too hard to bear, too real, too piercing. Regardless, I cannot deny how true they are. It’s like a splash of cold water to the face. The muck in my eyes gets washed away, and I see reality for what it is. There is nothing more real than an answer to prayer. It comes in loud and clear in the silence. It penetrates straight through the phony answers that society gives, because it’s God’s message to us and that message is truth. This truth is waiting for you at the end of every prayer if you just take the time to listen.
Kilby is a freelance writer from New Jersey and managing editor of Catholic World Report.
