Thursday of the thirtieth week in Ordinary Time brings us Paul, the apostle who writes in chains, and Jesus, who walks on toward Jerusalem. Both speak of a danger that is real, and both ask where we find shelter when the threat grows and the refusal of others closes every door around us. God answers with three gifts: the armor he gives, the road Christ keeps walking and the wings that wait.
On the same day, some of the Pharisees approached, saying to him: "Depart, and go away from here. For Herod wishes to kill you." And he said to them: "Go and tell that fox: 'Behold, I cast out demons and accomplish healings, today and tomorrow. And on the third day I reach the end.' Yet truly, it is necessary for me to walk today and tomorrow and the following day. For it does not fall to a prophet to perish beyond Jerusalem. Jerusalem, Jerusalem! You kill the prophets, and you stone those who are sent to you. Daily, I wanted to gather together your children, in the manner of a bird with her nest under her wings, but you were not willing! Behold, your house will be left desolate for you. But I say to you, that you shall not see me, until it happens that you say: 'Blessed is he who has arrived in the name of the Lord.' " (Lk 13:31-35)
Paul, the apostle who calls himself an ambassador in chains, closes his letter to the Ephesians with an order to take up arms. Before he names a single piece of equipment, he names the one who supplies it: "Be clothed in the armor of God" (Eph 6:11). The armor is therefore a gift and never a conquest, and whoever wears it stands in a strength that is not his own. That strength has a purpose: Paul wants the believer to be able to withstand the evil day.
The vocabulary is a soldier's, but Paul is not raising a militia in the name of God. He uses the belt, the breastplate, the shield, the helmet and the sword to show how total the commitment of faith must be, because life is a struggle made of trials and cannot be faced unarmed. He also says where the fight is not: "our struggle is not against flesh and blood" (Eph 6:12), but against principalities and powers. So the armor is truth around the waist, justice on the chest, the Gospel of peace on the feet, faith as the shield and the Word of God as the sword.
The psalm takes up the same language and puts it in the mouth of David, the psalmist whom the Lord redeemed from the malignant sword. David blesses God, who trains his hands for the battle; he calls him his refuge, his supporter and his deliverer, and the fighter learns his trade under the Lord and answers with a new song.
The Gospel gives the danger a name. Some Pharisees come to Jesus and tell him to leave, because Herod, the one who wishes to kill him, is after him. Jesus does not flee, and he does not hurry either: he tells them to go and tell that fox that he will cast out demons and heal today and tomorrow, and that on the third day he reaches the end. He keeps to his road toward Jerusalem, where a prophet is to perish. The third day already points to the resurrection, the victory of love over death.
Then the tone of Jesus changes. He cries the name of the city twice, the city that kills the prophets and stones those who are sent to it. His longing takes the shape of an image: he wanted to gather her children "in the manner of a bird with her nest under her wings, but you were not willing!" (Lk 13:34). It is a tenderness without weapons, a love that is wounded and never resigned. God does not impose himself by force: day after day he calls us back.
And yet the refusal is real, and Jesus names its cost: the house of the city will be left desolate until the day when it welcomes the one who comes in the name of the Lord. We know this refusal from the inside, for we too prefer our own roads to his. But God does not give up, and hope is the strength to hold on when every door seems shut, in the certainty that the third day will come. That is why Paul bids us stand firm and why Jesus keeps walking: Paul and Jesus stand on the same ground, and it is a faithfulness that does not tire.
In the spirituality of Bethlehem, we contemplate this love in the weakness of the Child, and Jerusalem is read through him. The Child of Bethlehem is the prophet who weeps over the city, and he does not crush it, he draws it; he does not condemn it, he consoles it. Nor does he avoid the pain: he walks through it with gentleness.
Today the Lord asks us to put on the armor and to let ourselves be gathered, when we are afraid, when we are refused and when we grow tired. Our strength comes from the one who walks ahead of us toward Jerusalem. Let us answer him, under his wings, as the city one day will: "Blessed is he who has arrived in the name of the Lord" (Lk 13:35).
Scripture text: Catholic Public Domain Version (CPDV), public domain.
Prayer of the Day
Lord Jesus, Child of Bethlehem, you kept walking toward Jerusalem when the threat was real, and you wanted to gather her children as a bird gathers her nest. Clothe us in the armor of God, hold us firm when we are afraid, and gather us under your wings when we have refused you. Let us welcome you in the name of the Lord. Amen.
For Meditation
- When a threat grows, where do we flee or despair, and what would it mean to keep walking as Jesus did?
- Which piece of God's armor have we left unworn, and what keeps us from putting it on today?
- Where have we refused to be gathered, and what would change if we let him call us again?
