Daily Gospel Reflection
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February 26, 2019
Jesus and his disciples left from there and began a journey through Galilee,
but he did not wish anyone to know about it.
He was teaching his disciples and telling them,
“The Son of Man is to be handed over to men
and they will kill him,
and three days after his death the Son of Man will rise.”
But they did not understand the saying,
and they were afraid to question him.
They came to Capernaum and, once inside the house,
he began to ask them,
“What were you arguing about on the way?”
But they remained silent.
For they had been discussing among themselves on the way
who was the greatest.
Then he sat down, called the Twelve, and said to them,
“If anyone wishes to be first,
he shall be the last of all and the servant of all.”
Taking a child, he placed it in their midst,
and putting his arms around it, he said to them,
“Whoever receives one child such as this in my name, receives me;
and whoever receives me,
receives not me but the One who sent me.”
For much of my life, I was uncomfortable with the idea of a God who is involved with us individually, specifically. People who “spoke,” who “talked,” to a God that responded were, well, scary and foolish.
I have also had a lifelong discomfort with children with disabilities and special needs. My generation was taught to look away and ignore, to not stare. At best, we wondered from afar why God would allow such seemingly unfair fates. Yet, in 2006, I agreed to go on our parish’s inaugural mission trip with Mustard Seed Communities. I did not want to go, but said I would — one and done, right?
Taking a child, he placed it in their midst
“Whoever receives one child such as this in my name, receives me;
and…receives not me but the One who sent me.”
The Gospel is silent as to the attributes of that child, but the Mustard Seed children were, on first encounter, my worst fears realized: they had cerebral palsy and Down syndrome. They were diseased, helpless, and in the Third World. I found myself daily checking the itinerary to confirm the flight home…look away, ignore.
But my efforts to avoid the children of Mustard Seed failed. God placed them in my midst—and me in theirs—and revealed their faces, smiles, joy…their humanity. These children, many of whom cannot even walk, reached out with love. This week, I am on my fourteenth trip back to Mustard Seed. Working with these children, receiving and being received by them, has repeatedly “forced” me to experience their love—God’s love.
Dare we rise to God’s level and relate to him directly? Only by service to others. By receiving just one child in God’s name, we know we are loved by the One who sent Christ. We receive God and God us—individually, specifically.
Prayer
Heavenly Father, through sin we curve inward upon ourselves, selfishly desiring to be served and honored by others. Open our hearts in humility to receive the gift of the cross and so give ourselves away in service to others for love of Christ. Amen.
Saint of the Day
Isabel was sister to the great king of France, St. Louis IX, in the 13th century. Not only was she royal and wealthy, but she also had a sharp intellect and was a highly accomplished lady. She left aside all of these advantages of life as a princess, however, and sought holiness above everything.
Even as a girl, she was known for fervent prayer and fasting. She loved learning and studied Latin so that she could pray the liturgy of the hours and read the Church Fathers.
Isabel refused to be married, even when famous men courted her. Once, the pope wrote to her directly to encourage her to marry the king of Jerusalem for the good of Christendom, but her refusal to him was so humble and wise that he acknowledged her desire to dedicate her life to God alone.
Every day, before she ate her dinner, Isabel would seat poor people at her table and serve them herself. She would spend the evening visiting others who were sick and poor.
She established a convent for Franciscan nuns, asking St. Bonaventure to write up the rule of life for the community, and named it the Monastery of the Humility of the Blessed Virgin Mary.
Isabel never joined the community herself, but did live in the monastery in a room separate from the nun’s cells. She suffered from illnesses during her life, and these prevented her from following the rule of life for the nuns—this was one reason she refused to be named abbess of the monastery. That also allowed her to keep her wealth and resources, so she could support the community and continue to give to the poor. She kept a discipline of silence for most of her day.
Isabel understood the connection between the Eucharist and its call to service. Jesus washed the feet of his disciples at the Last Supper, which calls us to humble ourselves in love for others. Before she received communion herself, Isabel always begged forgiveness, on her knees, of the few servants that she retained.
Her life of prayer was marked by ecstasies at several points of her life, including a period of time near the end of her life when she stayed awake through several nights in rapt contemplation. She died in 1270.
St. Isabel of France, who had the known world at her fingertips and left it all to serve God and the poor—pray for us!
Image Credit: Our featured image of St. Isabel of France is in the public domain. Last accessed December 6, 2024 on Wikimedia Commons.
