One Heart One God

A Reflection on the Gospel for February 13th, 2022:
Sixth Sunday in Ordinary Time

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Luke
6.17, 20-26

Jesus came down with the twelve and stood on a level place, with a great crowd of his disciples and a great multitude of people from all Judea, Jerusalem, and the coast of Tyre and Sidon.

Then Jesus looked up at his disciples and said:

“Blessed are you who are poor,
for yours is the kingdom of God.
Blessed are you who are hungry now,
for you will be filled.
Blessed are you who weep now,
for you will laugh.
Blessed are you when people hate you,
and when they exclude you, revile you, and defame you
on account of the Son of Man.

“Rejoice in that day and leap for joy,
for surely your reward is great in heaven;
for that is what their ancestors did to the Prophets.

“But woe to you who are rich,
for you have received your consolation.
Woe to you who are full now,
for you will be hungry.
Woe to you who are laughing now,
for you will mourn and weep.
Woe to you when all speak well of you,
for that is what their ancestors did to the false Prophets.”
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When life becomes uncomfortable, I can go to great lengths to obtain comfort. The Gospel from Luke 6 does not, however, bring me comfort. Rather, it convicts me. And I have nothing useful to say about it since many of my actions of late are in direct conflict with these teachings.


​My spiritual life has been dry. I have prioritized honour from man over honour from God by completing the tasks I need to complete in order to meet the deadline—but usually at the expense of my morning prayer time. I have recoiled from speaking the name of Jesus even with my kids for fear of their persecuting responses, because I want to be comfortable—just for a minute—in my own home. I want to buy a new car, and I want it to have heated seats. I want to renovate my house so I no longer have to stare at the patches of drywall compound that fill the cracks and holes with no fresh paint to conceal them. I have avoided and feared difficult conversations because I am concerned with not being likeable, or causing someone else discomfort, even if it would cause them to grow, and maybe I would also grow in the process. I have filled my emotional holes with Pop-Tarts, chocolate, and dare I say, whisky, for fear of sitting in the silence with God and facing them. I have attached myself to the fleeting comforts of this world because they’re there, they’re tempting, they bring me a moment of solace, and I can touch them with my hands.


But who is my God?


Is He not the comforter? The Redeemer? The Light in the darkness? Is He not Goodness itself? The Holy one? Life?


He is.


And He is not a Pop-Tart.


The beatitudes are Jesus. They depict what He is like—all the way to His crucifixion on the cross: the perfect picture of the rejection of the world and the embrace of eternity.


Thomas Aquinas describes the four substitutes for God as wealth, pleasure, power, and honour. Jesus unequivocally rejects all four of these on the cross: His naked body stripped of wealth, His battered and torn flesh devoid of pleasure, His body restrained by wood and nails rendering Him powerless, and the ridicule and abandon from even His closest friends rescinding His honour. Anyone feeling comfortable yet?


What Jesus models for us with His sacrifice is that it is only through the emptying out of our egos that we can be filled up with Love. With the beatitudes, He outlines for us a formula for detachment from the finite things of this world. He is calling us to find our comfort in the One who can sustain our comfort—forever. He is calling us to live with hearts undivided. Jesus was the single-hearted one—His heart undivided from His Father’s will. It is only with this disposition that we can be truly happy, find lasting comfort, and live a life fulfilled.


My heart is Yours, Father. I pray for the discipline to keep You before me always. May Your love and Your will be my comfort. Amen.




Lori MacDonald

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