11th Sunday of Ordinary Time - receive without cost, give without cost

I believe that there is a moment in every life when we wonder whether anyone actually cares; not just being polite, not whether they are helpful in a general way — but whether anyone loves us all the way down, with full knowledge of who we are. Today’s three readings give us the answer. And the answer is not a principle or a promise written on a wall. The answer is a Person, and he has been searching for you longer than you have been searching for him.

Today we return to Ordinary Time after the great feasts of Easter and Pentecost and Trinity and Corpus Christi. We might be tempted to think that means returning to something lesser. But Ordinary Time is where God meets us in the ordinary — in the crowds, in the streets, in the faces of people who are tired and lost and hungry for something they cannot quite name. And what Jesus does when he meets them is everything.

in the 1st reading, we begin at Mount Sinai. The Israelites have just come through the desert. They have crossed the sea on dry ground. They have been fed with manna they did not plant and water from a rock they did not strike. And now God calls Moses up the mountain and gives him a message for the people — not a list of demands, not a legal code, but first a reminder:
“You have seen for yourselves how I treated the Egyptians and how I bore you up on eagle wings and brought you here to myself.” (Exodus 19:4, NABRE)

Yes, God says: remember what I did — I carried you. The image of eagle wings is deeply meaningful.  The eagle is rather unique in that while other birds carry their young in their talons, the eagle carries it's young on it's wings. High and safe above everything. This is the God of the Exodus. He carries us, not a place but a person: “brought you here to myself.”  God carried his people not to a safer location, but to his own heart. 

Brothers and sisters, before you ever found God, he had already been carrying you. In the hard seasons, in the years you did not pray, in the periods of doubt and wandering — underneath were the eagle wings. That is where we begin today. Not with our fidelity to God, but with his fidelity to us.

St. Paul takes this same logic and connects it to Calvary. In the second reading, he writes a truth  that we should etch in our hearts. 

“Indeed, only with difficulty does one die for a just person, though perhaps for a good person one might even find courage to die. But God proves his love for us in that while we were still sinners Christ died for us.” (Romans 5:7-8, NABRE)

You might be willing die for someone who is worth it.; a good person, a righteous person — perhaps. But your enemy? The one who has hurt you the most? That is simply not done. That is not how love works — at least not human love. But God’s love does not follow our designs. Christ died for us precisely in our weakness, precisely in our sin, precisely when we had nothing to offer. The cross is not the reward of the righteous. It is the rescue of the lost. We were as Paul says: helpless; unable to save ourselves, to climb out of our own pit. And that is exactly when Christ came. That is when the eagle bore us to himself.

It's sad that sometimes people stay away from the sacraments, stay away from Mass, stay away from God, precisely because they feel unworthy. They think they need to get their life in order first. They think they need to become a better version of themselves before they can come to him. But Paul says: that is exactly backwards. Come in your helplessness. Come in your sinfulness. Come now. Because “God proves his love for us in that while we were still sinners Christ died for us.” He is not waiting for you to be worthy. He is waiting for you to come.

And now we reach the Gospel, and we see all of this made flesh. Matthew tells us something very specific about the moment that preceded the calling of the Twelve: 

“At the sight of the crowds, his heart was moved with pity for them because they were troubled and abandoned, like sheep without a shepherd.” (Matthew 9:36, NABRE)

What Jesus felt was not just sympathy, it was heartbreak. Jesus saw people who were troubled and abandoned, beaten up by life and left there. Can you identify with any of that? Jesus looks at them and does not see a problem to be managed. He sees sheep without a shepherd. They are the flock of God, and they are lost. And so he acts. He calls the Twelve. He gives them authority. He sends them out with explicit instructions: go to the lost sheep of the house of Israel. Heal the sick. Raise the dead. Cleanse the lepers. Drive out demons. And then the line that ties it all together for us 

“Without cost you have received; without cost you are to give.” (Matthew 10:8, NABRE)

Today’s three readings hold together as a single, unified proclamation:

• God bore us on eagle wings — before we could do anything to deserve it.
• Christ died for us while we were still sinners — love at its most radical.

1. Jesus looked at troubled, abandoned crowds and his heart broke open and he sent people to them.

 
 The Twelve went. They had heard his teaching and witnessed his miracles They have received, without cost. Now they give, without cost.

The same is true for us. We are not sent because we have it all figured out. We are not sent because we are better than the people around us. We are sent because we have been carried, and people who have been carried must carry others. We are sent because we have been found, and people who have been found must now look for the lost.

The harvest is abundant. Jesus said so himself, just a few verses later: “The harvest is abundant but the laborers are few; so ask the master of the harvest to send out laborers for his harvest” (Mt. 9:37-38, NABRE). The need is great. The love is available. What is needed is people willing to go. That's you, that's me.
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He bore us on eagle wings. He died for us while we were still sinners. He looks at us:  troubled, beaten, and tired — and his heart is moved with pity.
That is the Good News. Now go and give it away.

Peace.

Deacon Michel