September 7, 2025: Twenty-Third Sunday in Ordinary Time

Gospel: Luke 14:25-33

Great crowds were traveling with Jesus, and he turned and addressed them, “If anyone comes to me without hating his father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters, and even his own life, he cannot be my disciple. Whoever does not carry his own cross and come after me cannot be my disciple. Which of you wishing to construct a tower does not first sit down and calculate the cost to see if there is enough for its completion? Otherwise, after laying the foundation and finding himself unable to finish the work the onlookers should laugh at him and say, ‘This one began to build but did not have the resources to finish.’ Or what king marching into battle would not first sit down and decide whether with ten thousand troops he can successfully oppose another king advancing upon him with twenty thousand troops? But if not, while he is still far away, he will send a delegation to ask for peace terms. In the same way, anyone of you who does not renounce all his possessions cannot be my disciple.”

Reflection

The cross. Suffering. Poverty. Who would want to be Jesus’ disciple with those conditions? Yet, some of us remain, having glimpsed the treasure in the field, we keep believing that a better world is possible. So, to practice the Way, to work toward the Kin-dom of God on Earth, we must be willing to lean in, listen, and learn the wisdom of suffering.

As someone who lives with a chronic illness, suffering is front and center in my life. It comes in many forms — physical, mental, emotional, spiritual, relational. On my better days, I can gently hold my suffering while offering peace and comfort to those who suffer with me. I may hold in love those living with the threat of violence, all without appropriate shelter, or even Mother Earth and all the species that are her children.

When I become mindful of my pain, I can choose how I relate to it.

Often, I have met my pain and reacted with disgust, defensiveness, or avoidance. It is easy when I am hurting to look for someone to blame, and that person is usually me. These are just a few ways I attempt to stall or pass off my suffering.

When I meet my suffering with loving-kindness and compassion (and ask for support when I am struggling), I can also practice responding to the suffering of others with the same tenderness. Imagine a community, a world, where instead of reacting to others from pain and fear, we offer to comfort and care for the suffering of others. I might call that the Kin-dom of God.

Action

Consider these questions this week. Can I bear the weight of my own cross/my own suffering and still be kind and loving? Do I even know what my cross is? How often do I spend time listening to my suffering?