This reflection is based on Matthew 22:34-40.
I know what you’re thinking. It’s what I’m thinking too: These are two impossible commandments the Lord gives us.
When our Lord is asked in the Gospel about the single greatest commandment, he gives not one but two answers. He says: “You shall love the Lord, your God, with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your mind.”
And as though that’s not hard enough, Jesus adds: “You shall love your neighbor as yourself.”
In today’s Gospel reading, our Lord utters his famous line: “Repay to Caesar what belongs to Caesar, and repay to God what belongs to God.” At first glance, he seems to be proposing a division between our usual lives and our so-called spiritual lives. Sort of like Sunday Christianity, when people act like Christians only when they go to Sunday services. As for the rest of the week, they act “normally”–that is, not in any particularly religious or even moral way.
This reflection is based on Matthew 22:1-14.
There are many things about this Sunday’s parable that are, frankly speaking, quite unbelievable. If we didn’t know it was one of our Lord’s parables, we’d probably dismiss its plot as laughably implausible.
Think about it: A king throws a wedding party for his son. It’s a royal wedding, so think Harry and Meghan, William and Kate, Charles and Diana, or even any Hollywood royalty couple. Such a wedding will surely be full of pomp and extravagance, one of the biggest events of the decade, one that everyone will want to see and/or be seen at. The reception will be painstakingly planned and the banquet promises to be unforgettable. Needless to say, the guest list will be carefully drawn and will certainly end up reading like the “Who’s who?” in high society.
This homily is based on Mt 21:33-43.
A TV spot from the “Foundation for A Better Life” tells a sad and familiar story: A new girl looks tentatively around a crowded school cafeteria, food tray in hand. After what feels like an eternity, she spots an empty seat and finds the courage to join a group of girls her age. “Would it be okay if I sat here?” she asks. All it takes is a look, and the new girl knows: She is an intruder, an outsider, a leper. The group rises as one and leaves her quite abruptly alone with her food tray.
