This morning’s Gospel reading is Luke 13:22–30:
Jesus passed through towns and villages, teaching as he went and making his way to Jerusalem. Someone asked him, “Lord, will only a few people be saved?” He answered them, “Strive to enter through the narrow gate, for many, I tell you, will attempt to enter but will not be strong enough. After the master of the house has arisen and locked the door, then will you stand outside knocking and saying, ‘Lord, open the door for us.’ He will say to you in reply, ‘I do not know where you are from.’ And you will say, ‘We ate and drank in your company and you taught in our streets.’ Then he will say to you, ‘I do not know where you are from. Depart from me, all you evildoers!’
And there will be wailing and grinding of teeth when you see Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob and all the prophets in the kingdom of God and you yourselves cast out. And people will come from the east and the west and from the north and the south and will recline at table in the kingdom of God. For behold, some are last who will be first, and some are first who will be last.”
What does it mean to have strength in faith? How do the martyrs speak to the love of Christ and our mission of conversion?
At the beginning of this summer, I began teaching myself Photoshop, after my interest in photography re-awakened this summer. Thanks to a feature that I had not known before, I found that I could bring out artwork I have photographed over the years on my travels to Italy and the Holy Land, restoring proper perspective as well as authentic coloring and sharpness. Some of these were frescoes from the Vatican, whose names and artists were unknown to me, but most of the tableaus were recognizable as biblical episodes or stories of the saints.
A few of the frescoes required Google image searches to identify, though, and one in particular stumped me even when identification took place. Until looking up the image on this post, I had never heard of the disputation of St. Catherine of Alexandria. The episode — captured beautifully by Pinturicchio in the Borgia Apartments at the Vatican — involved a young Christian woman of the early 4th century who refused to sacrifice to idols. According to the brief notes on the Vatican website, the young woman had been forced to come to the court of the governor and face the wrath of 50 polytheistic theologians of the time.
Rather than concede or submit out of fear, Catherine instead engaged in a debate while fully accepting the Holy Spirit and her mission. She rebuked the emperor (Maxentius) for his cruelty, won the debate, and converted at least some of the theologians to Christianity by exposing the “vanity” of polytheism. Those who converted were put to death shortly afterward, while Catherine was imprisoned and tortured. Her refusal to submit created even more converts and martyrs, reportedly including Maxentius’ wife. Maxentius then offered her marriage, but she refused, claiming Christ to be her only spouse and her body consecrated to Him. Maxentius ordered her to be put to death on the wheel, but it miraculously broke, at which point Maxentius then had her beheaded.
Like many of the stories of martyrs, St. Catherine’s disputation is not a pleasant one — except in one sense: her faithfulness to Christ and the fruits of her ministry. Through St. Catherine, many were saved in Christ, and she herself went to her death with the comfort of knowing the love of God was within her. St. Catherine was not the first nor the last martyr for the faith either; most of the Apostles were killed for their evangelization, and the martyrdoms continue to this day in places like Africa, Asia, and even in the Americas. The first saint story I ever recall reading was that of St. Maxmillian Kolbe, who sacrificed himself in a German concentration camp so that another man could live, and who outlasted the entire group of condemned men to minister to them in their final hours.
Fortunately, most of us are not called to that kind of martyrdom. We are, however, still called to that level of discipline, especially in the literal sense of discipleship. Our mission to evangelize the Gospel and salvation is no less than Catherine’s, Maxmillian’s, or all of the other martyrs who died on Christ’s mission to save the children of God. In our responsorial psalm today, we are reminded of the Great Commission: Go out to all the world and tell the Good News.
What are we called to sacrifice, then, if not our lives? We are called to sacrifice everything that prevents us from passing through the narrow gate. We are called to testify to our faith in both word and deed at all times, mindful of living our lives as a sacrifice to the Lord at all times. As Paul writes to the Hebrews in our second reading today, we must expect ‘trials’ on this mission, because the power of sin is so strong within ourselves and others. The Gospel and scriptures force us to choose between salvation and sin every day, and create ‘trials’ within us as well as around us.
Paul exhorts the church in Jerusalem to endure this as ‘discipline,’ especially when we ourselves fall short:
You have forgotten the exhortation addressed to you as children: “My son, do not disdain the discipline of the Lord or lose heart when reproved by him; for whom the Lord loves, he disciplines; he scourges every son he acknowledges.”
Endure your trials as “discipline”; God treats you as sons. For what “son” is there whom his father does not discipline? At the time, all discipline seems a cause not for joy but for pain, yet later it brings the peaceful fruit of righteousness to those who are trained by it.
So strengthen your drooping hands and your weak knees. Make straight paths for your feet, that what is lame may not be disjointed but healed.
We must strengthen ourselves on this mission, because it will test all of us to some degree. Jesus Himself warns that strength will be required to enter through the narrow gate, and that some will simply lack it and will be left out of salvation. If we stumble or become weak, we can rely on the Church and Holy Spirit to refresh us and bring us back to the path that leads to the narrow gate, but only if we are willing to endure and embrace the Word.
In that Word, along with the examples of the saints and martyrs who await and pray for us, we can take comfort and heart — and find true strength for the mission.
Previous reflections on these readings:
The front page image is “Disputation of St. Catherine of Alexandria” by Pinturicchio, c. 1492-4, in the Borgia Apartments of the Vatican Museum, from my personal collection.
“Sunday Reflection” is a regular feature that looks at the specific readings used in today’s Mass in Catholic parishes around the world. The reflection represents only my own point of view, intended to help prepare myself for the Lord’s day and perhaps spark a meaningful discussion. Previous Sunday Reflections from the main page can be found here.
