Christian Art | I Came Not To Send Peace But A Sword
Matthew 10: 34 – 11: 1 – Week 15 Ordinary Time, Monday (King James Audio Bible KJV)
34 Think not that I am come to send peace on earth: I came not to send peace, but a sword.
35 For I am come to set a man at variance against his father, and the daughter against her mother, and the daughter in law against her mother in law.
36 And a man’s foes shall be they of his own household.
37 He that loveth father or mother more than me is not worthy of me: and he that loveth son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me.
38 And he that taketh not his cross, and followeth after me, is not worthy of me.
39 He that findeth his life shall lose it: and he that loseth his life for my sake shall find it.
40 ¶ He that receiveth you receiveth me, and he that receiveth me receiveth him that sent me.
41 He that receiveth a prophet in the name of a prophet shall receive a prophet’s reward; and he that receiveth a righteous man in the name of a righteous man shall receive a righteous man’s reward.
42 And whosoever shall give to drink unto one of these little ones a cup of cold water only in the name of a disciple, verily I say unto you, he shall in no wise lose his reward.
1 AND it came to pass, when Jesus had made an end of commanding his twelve disciples, he departed thence to teach and to preach in their cities.
In today’s Gospel reading, Jesus’ message may strike us as difficult to understand. Throughout the Gospels, Jesus’ message is one of peace and Christian brotherhood, of reconciliation with our fellow human beings and with God, whom we are asked to call Father. Today Jesus speaks of variance and contradiction. Jesus tells us that he has not come to bring peace, but a sword.
Jesus has not come to bring us a false and earthly peace, the sort of stupefied tranquillity a worldly and self-seeking person might yearn for; rather Jesus draws us away from fleshly longings and from sin and toward God. Jesus recalls us to know the difference between false and worldly longings on the one hand and, on the other, the truth of God.
There is a sword, then, that pierces our own hearts, exposing sin and truth, and enabling the choice for Jesus. In families and communities, the choice of good or evil is also given to us. There will be those who embrace the truth, which is faith in God, in Jesus, being rejected and regarded as enemies by those who cling to falsehood. Here the greater loyalty to love of God overrides other commitments. The first and the fourth commandments, to love God and to honour our parents, should go together; but at times there may be contradiction. We may imagine the difficult times experienced by those early Christians who embraced Christ and so found themselves painfully at odds with their families. It must certainly have been a cross to bear.
Jesus, then, proposes a new and alternative set of values to the world. There is a drawing away from old relationships, old customs, and old securities, and instead a vow to lead a life of love and charity – we are to give away everything we have and follow Jesus. Through this conversion of heart, we learn to see and greet Jesus in our fellow human beings, to receive and value those we meet, our neighbours in Christ, and to give them a glass of water, metaphorical or literal. This is the greater peace brought to us by Jesus, which transcends old and partial loyalties. It is a calling to a universal brotherhood and sisterhood – a new family in which there is love and charity for all.
‘People who are constantly concerned with themselves, who act above all for their own satisfaction, endanger their eternal salvation and cannot avoid being unhappy even in this life. Only if a person forgets himself and gives himself to God and to others, in marriage as well as in other aspects of life, can he be happy on this earth, with a happiness that is a preparation for, and a foretaste of, the joy of heaven.’ (St Josemaria Escriva.)
Concluding Prayer
King of heaven and earth, Lord God,
rule over our hearts and bodies this day.
Sanctify us,
and guide our every thought, word and deed
according to the commandments of your law,
so that now and for ever
your grace may free and save us.
Through Christ our Lord.
The parable of the two sons is clearly, and explicitly, an attack by Jesus upon the chief priests and the elders of the Jewish people. In the parable, Jesus places before the Jewish authorities an astonishingly blunt analogy of their rejection of God the Father and of Jesus. There is no room for quibbling or intellectual sophistry here: one son does what his father wants; the other says he will and then doesn’t [ … ]
Sometimes, when I read my Bible, I pause in the reading and say to myself: ‘This bit’s real.’ It would be fair to say, I have issues with Mary, because, contrary to what we are taught to say, Mary isn’t my mother. Rather: Mum is. One bit of the Bible-text says this: And when his family heard it, they went out to seize him, for people were saying, “He is beside himself.” … And his mother and his brothers came; and standing outside they sent to him and called him. And a crowd was sitting about him; and they said to him, “Your mother and your brothers are outside, asking for you.” And he replied, “Who are my mother and my brothers?” And looking around on those who sat about him, he said, “Here are my mother and my brothers! Whoever does the will of God is my brother, and sister, and mother.” (Mark 3: 21; 31-35.) Here she comes. She is in considerable distress. I can imagine that. I can relate to that. To save her boy from whatever he’s got himself into this time. And you’re not telling me there isn’t something inside that. Her boy is beside himself. Radical. Radicalized. Radicalizing. A misunderstood word. /ˈradɪk(ə)l/ adjective & noun. 1 Forming the root, basis, or foundation; original, primary. 2a Inherent in the nature of a thing or person; fundamental. b Of action, change, an idea: going to the root or origin; far-reaching, thorough. c Advocating thorough or far-reaching change. d Characterized by departure from tradition; progressive; unorthodox. ‘He has a demon! And he is mad!’ – thus ‘the Jews’. (e.g. John 10: 20.) Come home! It’s all she wants. His family want him back now. But it is an exclusive cult: there is an inside and there is an outside; and on the outside, they are not meant to understand, lest they be converted. He has defined himself as different from anything she was. Only at the end does Jesus say to his Mum – and with savage, bitter irony: ‘Woman, behold your son.’ And then he dies. Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee. Blessed art thou among women and blessed is the fruit of thy womb Jesus. Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners now and at the hour of our death. We ask that we might find Mary in our hearts as a Yes! place for Jesus. It is also recommended that we pray to Jesus that we may be further in oneness with Mary. It is self-emptying, such that we only exist insofar as we are responsive to God’s Word. * Last term, and put-out to pasture, the old Archbishop Emeritus came over to stay for a few days and did the odd class with us. He spoke of Yes! as the meaning of Mary’s virginity. And we were not very nice about him. One or two took umbrage. One or two got the hump. In a sense, his Grace, the Arch, basically wanted to move anyone he’d ever known from a high-place – a mountain – received theological ‘truth’ – to an imminent, human plane. Earthing the spiritual. Recalibrating metrics of life’s believability toward a spiritual sense of things. He might have asked the impermissible question: what happened? His Grace described it. God’s love as a cloud. This descended upon Mary – and subsumed her. Within the cloud, Mary capitulated utterly. She became only and purely a response to God’s love. As he spoke, the Arch cradled her. He carried her in his lap – in his hands. His Grace was a consecrated bishop. He was faith. He sat squat, a rounded man, hands cupped and ankles crossed, fingers interlocked, with parted thighs. Rumpled, washed, speckled. A lifetime’s skin… There could be no doubt His Grace spoke through long-term personal relationship with Mary. It was Julian went for him: ‘So are you saying Mary was a Virgin? Or are you not saying Mary was a Virgin?’ Nasty. No, it wasn’t pretty. Julian twisting his silver ring. For a moment, what Julian had said to the Arch simply failed to communicate. No, for a moment, that dumped on the air meant nothing. Then His Grace said: ‘There is a range of possible meanings we may understand in the question of Mary’s virginity. For example, there are understandings of the word virginity entailed in the action of giving birth.’ Julian said: ‘Duh! So had she had sex or hadn’t she?’ Trigger words. No, it wasn’t pretty. On that went for a little while. At length, Julian’s point seemed reluctantly conceded. Then the Arch told us a new story, an additionally human event, the more to baffle us. Controversially, he told us that Mary could not have been Joseph’s first wife, for this would not have been the way of things in the society of that time. His belief was that Joseph must have taken Mary into his household through pity. That would be normal, he said, for Joseph to bring a young, vulnerable girl, who is about to have a baby, within his protection, not meaning to enjoy with her marital relations, but through kindness. ‘And this story of the inn and stable,’ the Archbishop said, ‘it can’t have been like that really. Joseph has travelled with Mary to stay with his family, at home in Bethlehem, and they don’t want Mary in their house, for reasons which I am sure we can understand. It must have been there was considerable resistance to Mary. But Mary gives birth, and who can resist a baby? That’s what happened. It must have been. ‘I’m convinced that must have been how it happened really.’ Later that term, toward the beginning of Advent, we met boys who had been here before, in Valladolid, and now were in regular seminary. They had heard and recited verbatim all the Archbishop had said to them. Their spot-on impressions of each of the fathers were scathing. […]
Saint Bede the Venerable (c. 673–735), monk of Wearmouth-Jarrow and the most eminent Anglo-Saxon theologian, offers in this passage a profound meditation on 1 Peter 2:9, wherein the Apostle applies Old Testament imagery to the new People of God. Bede’s theological genius lies in his ability to interweave patristic exegesis, liturgical spirituality, and historical typology into a cohesive vision of the Christian life as pilgrimage from darkness to light, from Egypt to the Promised Land [ … ]
