Fourteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time - Year A

Collect

O God, who in the abasement of your Son have raised up a fallen world, fill your faithful with holy joy, for on those you have rescued from slavery to sin you bestow eternal gladness. Through our Lord Jesus Christ, your Son, who lives and reigns with you in the unity of the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever.

Amen. 

Reflection

After spending three Sundays listening to Jesus’ teaching about the disciples and their mission, the continuous narrative of the Gospel according to Saint Matthew skips a significant portion of chapter 11. In that section, John the Baptist sends two of his disciples to ask Jesus whether he is the one who is to come. Jesus responds through deeds that John would certainly have recognised as signs that the time of redemption had dawned. Then, after speaking about John, Jesus reproaches those towns that did not welcome this same good news of salvation. Instead, this Sunday's Liturgy of the Word takes us directly to the final part of chapter 11.

This brief prayer and discourse of Jesus can be divided into two main sections. The first is a hymn of praise to the Father for the way he chose to reveal the coming of salvation—a way that confounds those who are too self-assured, so that they may once again recognise that they owe their existence not to their own abilities but to God. At the same time, it strengthens the little ones, whose lack of pretension and pride places them in a favourable position before God to receive what he wishes to say and reveal through Jesus. As Jesus says: “I thank you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, that you have hidden these things from the wise and understanding and revealed them to little children” (Mt 11:25).

It is the little ones who are ready to welcome the God who comes to meet us, whom we behold in Jesus, the Son of God made man. They are able to accept a God who humbles himself. By contrast, those who consider themselves wise and learned often find it harder to receive the wisdom of God, which cannot be fully grasped by human logic. They struggle to accept a God who empties himself, because such a God shakes the pedestals upon which they place themselves when they feel superior to others. This is a temptation into which we too can fall when we compare ourselves with people who, in our eyes, seem far from God, while we remain overly confident in our own moral goodness before him, even when our hearts are not entirely his.

The second part of the passage is addressed precisely to these little ones—to those who are weary and burdened and who acknowledge their need for God. Jesus also offers this rest to those who are perplexed by the way God works, provided that they too choose to accept his invitation: “Come to me, all who labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest” (Mt 11:28).

The rest that Jesus promises, however, is not an early-retirement scheme or a holiday. We are still called to take up the yoke. Yet it is a gentle yoke and a light burden because the human heart is constantly searching for that which can truly satisfy it. When it chooses Jesus, it chooses to be filled with someone infinitely greater than itself, rather than with something merely equal to it—such as expecting another person to resolve the emptiness and restlessness within us—or even something far smaller than it, such as possessions, money, or any number of material things.

As Jesus says: “Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light” (Mt 11:29-30). The rest that Jesus offers is the certainty and peace found in him, which prevents our hearts from wandering endlessly in search of fulfilment. It is the recognition that only in Jesus can we find our fullness; only from him can we receive life and salvation in their truest sense.

Prayer

Lord, as the warmth of summer brings with it a certain weariness, and as this season offers opportunities for moments of rest and renewal, may your gentle words echo in our hearts: “Come to me.” May we truly find that rest which transforms us from machines back into human beings; from slaves into brothers, sisters, and beloved redeemed children; from beasts of burden, crushed by work or weighed down by life's struggles, into souls light enough not to be overwhelmed in difficult moments, but able to rise towards the One who created us not for smallness but for greatness, not for mediocrity but for holiness. Amen.