July 2, 2023 (Thirteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time)
/“Lord, I Am Not Worthy”
by Fr. Dominic DeLay, O.P.
[This is the text composed by the homilist prior to delivering the homily.]
On this 4th of July weekend, none other than Jesus offers us life, liberty, and happiness. But are we worthy to receive these gifts?
“Whoever loves father or mother more than me is not worthy of me, and whoever loves son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me.” Jesus sounds like a jealous lover, but at least this isn’t Luke’s version, where he asks us to hate our family. Prioritizing Jesus is hard enough for us 21st century disciples, who love our families but nevertheless move away from our family for work. Whatever country we’re from, we count on our national family for many privileges and protections, but we sometimes move away from that family. Jesus is asking for even bigger risk-taking from his contemporaries, for whom extended family is everything, including the one place where they can count on kindness and safety.
But Jesus is offering us a new kind of family, with a pledge of a new kind of hospitality and protection. Hospitality without tribalism. Protection without violence. Can Jesus really deliver on this promise? Can we trust one another to deliver his hospitality and protection? We American Christians and our non-Christian American family members can’t agree to offer hospitality to migrants, immigrants, and refugees in a compassionate, orderly, and fair way. Lord knows we’re not worthy.
Jesus has more demands: “Whoever does not take up their cross and follow after me is not worthy of me. Whoever finds their life will lose it…” He’s not talking about the difficulties of daily life. No, he’s asking that his followers march to their deaths, death by the occupying authorities, for it’s the Romans who use the cross for execution. St. Paul says to the Roman Christians and us today, “Are you unaware that we who were baptized into Christ Jesus were baptized into his death?” Do we love Jesus such that we’re ready to love one another when loving puts our comfort or life at risk? Is it sufficient consolation that Jesus follows “whoever finds their life will lose it” with “whoever loses their life for my sake will find it”? Is heaven enough of a reward? Can we take up our cross and lose our life, or will we remain unworthy of Jesus?
But Jesus’ followers also find heaven in this life. Paul continues, “We were indeed buried with him through baptism into death, so that, just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, we too might live in newness of life.” Joining Jesus’ family, taking up our cross, and losing our life for his sake, leads us to authentic life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. What greater life than walking with Jesus? What greater liberty than having hearts that can choose to spend our lives on others? What greater happiness than not needing to pursue it because it’s already given?
It must have been a great joy for those first disciples to no longer fear the road and to receive the hospitality of strangers. Theirs was the joy that Elisha must have experienced in today’s story about the hospitable woman of Shunem. That joy can be ours if we take to the road with Jesus and our cross. What’s more, we are offered the hospitality of Jesus himself. While others might offer us a cup of water, Jesus offers us the cup of his own life: “Take this and drink. This is the cup of my blood poured out for you.” But we protest: “Lord, I’m not worthy that you should enter under my roof.”
It’s been over three years since we’ve shared the communion cup, and today people all over our diocese celebrate the return of this great sharing. But forget worthiness for a moment. Do we want to share the communion cup? Even before the pandemic, we sometimes wondered if the experts were right that sharing the communion cup poses negligible risk to our health. And do we trust that others will stay home when they’re sick?
But there are bigger health risks than disease. “Can you drink from the same cup as I?” Jesus asks us. And we suspect he’s talking about sharing in his sacrificial death. By sharing in his body and blood, we are not only receiving Jesus’ life-giving hospitality but also pledging our lives to one another. By sharing in Jesus’ body and blood, we are committing ourselves to love no matter what.
But again, even if we’re ready to accept the hospitality, the death, the life, liberty, and happiness of this cup, are we worthy to receive it? Are we worthy to offer Jesus such hospitality in return? Even if we make our life with Jesus the driving force behind our love of family and others, even if we take up our cross of liberty and freely follow Jesus on the road of hardship and joy, even if we accept the happiness that comes with spending our lives on others for Jesus’ sake, are we worthy to receive Jesus into our bodies and hearts?
No, we’re not worthy, and no matter what we do, we can never be worthy. That’s what makes it such a gift. Jesus freely and lovingly gives us his life, his body and blood. This gift of God’s life is what enables us to love Jesus first, to take up our cross, to lose our life. It’s a gift freely given that we freely receive and freely share with others.
What do we want when we come to the altar of sacrifice and communion table? Unworthy though we are, Jesus offers us the gift of true life, liberty, and happiness. Is this what we want?