Daily Gospel Reflection

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March 7, 2024

Optional Memorial of Saints Perpetua and Felicity - Martyrs
Mt. 10:34-39
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Jesus said to his Apostles:
“Do not think that I have come to bring peace upon the earth.
I have come to bring not peace but the sword.
For I have come to set

a man ‘against his father,
a daughter against her mother,
and a daughter-in-law against her mother-in-law;
and one’s enemies will be those of his household.’

“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;
and whoever does not take up his cross
and follow after me is not worthy of me.
Whoever finds his life will lose it,
and whoever loses his life for my sake will find it.”

Reflection

Jennifer Newsome Martin
Associate Professor in the Departments of Theology and Liberal Studies and Incoming Director for de Nicola Center for Ethics and Culture
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Today’s Gospel reading contains what the Gospel of John has called “a hard saying.” We have grown perhaps too accustomed to Jesus Christ as an amiable figure of love and unity, but in Matthew’s Gospel, we find a startling self-disclosure—not peace but the sword.

Simone Weil famously wrote that “contact with the sword causes the same defilement whether it be through the hilt or the point”—the force of violence harms both the one who receives it and the one who uses it. The symbol of the sword is widely understood as an instrument of prodigious violence, enmity, danger, and division. But this cannot be what Jesus means here: he is not advocating that we seek out bitterness and division in our domestic lives. Rather, Jesus is laying bare with the blade of his sharp words the penetrating truth of that one needful thing: that he alone is worthy of our first and best love. When societal, cultural, or familial bonds—which are goods in themselves—become obstacles to our love for God, we may be causing ourselves more harm than a physical sword could ever deliver.

In The Passion of Perpetua and Felicity, Perpetua tells how her father came to her prison cell “worn out with anxiety,” pleading with her to make the impious sacrifices that would allow her to be released. He makes several interventions: appearing with her baby, tearing out his beard, weeping, and casting himself upon the ground. But Perpetua, preferring Christ above all else, could not be called by any name other than “Christian” and was baptized by water and blood. She was cleaved from her natural family to cleave more nearly to God, losing to find.

In so many of the Lord’s “hard sayings,” we encounter the paradoxical kernel of Christian life, a call to holiness in which the ordinary categories with which we understand ourselves and one another bear a certain violence in Christ’s word. Jesus brings “not peace” because he is peace itself. His sword pits us against ourselves as much as against one another so that in loving him, we are remade in that love and become members of his household, brothers and sisters to even those we once called our enemies.

Prayer

Rev. Herbert Yost, C.S.C.

Lord, help us to remain true to our core Christian values, no matter what the price. When it comes to those we love, please help us hold them lightly in our hands, always preserving their freedom, rather than grasping or clinging. Finally, may we always be ready to help those who truly need help. Amen.

Saint of the Day

Sts. Felicity and Perpetua

Saints Felicity and Perpetua were famous martyrs from the early Church—they are the saints who appear the most on ancient lists of saints and calendars for veneration. In fact, their story was read publicly in the churches of North Africa, and the great St. Augustine himself had to clarify for his people that these accounts were not of the same stature as Scripture, which indicates just how important people found their story.

Carthage in 203 was a Roman city and enforced the persecution of Christians who failed to worship the image of the emperor, which was a hallmark of the imperial religion. Five catechumens were arrested, and among them were a slave, Felicity, who was pregnant, and Perpetua, who was 22 years old, wife of a well-to-do citizen, and mother of a young child herself. The catechist who had taught these people who were seeking baptism was not arrested but turned himself in because he did not want them to suffer alone.

The Christians were tried and gave witness to their faith by refusing to honor the Roman gods. They were all condemned to execution, except for Felicity—Roman law prevented the execution of any woman who was pregnant. Felicity, however, wanted to join her fellow Christians with the witness of her life and gave birth in prison during her eighth month. The child survived and was adopted by the Christian community of the city.

Perpetua’s child was still nursing at the time of her arrest, and she received permission to have him join her in prison. He weaned before her execution and was raised by her family.

The group was taken to a stadium and killed by wild beasts in front of soldiers on a Roman holiday. Felicity and Perpetua faced a bull, who wounded them but did not kill them. The crowd called for their death by sword, and they exchanged a sign of peace before being killed.

The relics of these two martyrs rest in the reliquary chapel and their story and images are used by high school students who come to campus for a summer conference with the Notre Dame Vision program.

Sts. Felicity and Perpetua, the mothers who faced your martyrdom with courage that inspired faith in others—pray for us!


Image Credit: Our featured image of Sts. Felicity and Perpetua is an illustration by Julie Lonneman, who holds exclusive rights to the further distribution and publication of her art. Used with permission.