13th Sunday in Ordinary Time (C)

1 Kgs 19:16b, 19-21
Ps 16:1-2, 5, 7-8, 9-10, 11
Gal 5:1, 13-18
Lk 9:51-62

In the late 19th century, Franciscan Friars from my home province in Cincinnati, Ohio, went to minister among the Navajo People in the territories of Arizona and New Mexico. The friars reached the Southwest by train, but their travels around the mission field were by horse, wagon or on foot. Their adventures on the road in that frontier territory were often quite hazardous. A sudden storm could wash out desert roads. And there were other dangers: One old photo shows a friar in his habit, and seated nearby is a cowboy with a vicious-looking six-shooter.

Today, my confreres still minister in that same mission field, but they crisscross Navajo land by car or truck, like everyone else, including the Navajo people.

Like our missionary forebears, the journey Jesus begins in today's Gospel was difficult—not only because robbers, deserts and wild beasts lay along the road to Jerusalem. At the end of his journey, Jesus will face crucifixion and death.

In these summer Gospel selections from Luke, our author uses the journey theme to explore what being a disciple means. Your trip to church this weekend might not be hazardous (until you reach the parking lot at least!), but let's hope you hear loud and clear the challenge to discipleship in our Sunday Scriptures.

Scripture:

•Then Elisha left and followed Elijah as his attendant. (1 Kings 19:21)

•You will show me the path to life, fullness of joys in your presence, the delights at your right hand forever. (Psalm 16:11)

•serve one another through love. For the whole law is fulfilled in one statement, namely, You shall love your neighbor as yourself. (Galatians 5:14)

•…because the destination of his journey was Jerusalem. (Luke 9:52)

Reflection:

•What happened to Jesus when he reached Jerusalem?

•What is the destination of your journey?

•How do you serve God? Your neighbor?

•Where is the path that you follow? (Is it a material or spiritual path?)


Suffering, injustice, and evil, even our own personal brokenness, are encompassed by a prayer of praise and lose the power to claim primary importance in our lives. They are included mysteriously in our wholehearted trust in the goodness of things. We may still feel the power of darkness that exists everywhere, but we have the freedom to open the door to heaven in our midst and bear witness to a singing universe. This is truly a gift, one that Francis calls forth from his companions, from all creation, and from us.

Believing in the dream of heaven on earth, we live with the confidence that heaven is not only at the end of the journey but accompanies us along the way. At some time or another we have all glimpsed the new creation. Our response? Praise wells up within us. Praise assures us that we live daily in the radiance of God; it gives us a strength to choose a freedom, a greater sense of giftedness, and an awareness of our bond with humanity and creation. Our willingness to sing and dance an alleluia—this is the sign of life in the Spirit! This is our ongoing prayer as it was for Francis.