Weekday homily at the Aquinas Studium, Dover MA.
Readings: Micah 7:14-15, 18-20; Matthew 12:46-50
This is a slightly disturbing passage
for a Thomist.
Disturbing not because of
the mention of Jesus’ “brothers,”
nor because of the seeming disrespect
that he shows to his Blessed Mother.
But because of the way in which his natural family
seems to be replaced by the supernatural family
that he has gathered around him:
“stretching out his hand toward his disciples, he said,
‘Here are my mother and my brothers.’”
for a Thomist.
Disturbing not because of
the mention of Jesus’ “brothers,”
nor because of the seeming disrespect
that he shows to his Blessed Mother.
But because of the way in which his natural family
seems to be replaced by the supernatural family
that he has gathered around him:
“stretching out his hand toward his disciples, he said,
‘Here are my mother and my brothers.’”
Whatever happened to
gratia non tollat naturam, sed perficiat?
Jesus’ natural family might seem to be taken away
in favor of a new family, created by grace.
But I think this is not entirely
a case of destruction:
Mary, after all, will be present
at the Cross and on the day of Pentecost,
and James who is called Jesus’ brother
will lead the disciples in Jerusalem
and meet his death for the sake of Christ.
gratia non tollat naturam, sed perficiat?
Jesus’ natural family might seem to be taken away
in favor of a new family, created by grace.
But I think this is not entirely
a case of destruction:
Mary, after all, will be present
at the Cross and on the day of Pentecost,
and James who is called Jesus’ brother
will lead the disciples in Jerusalem
and meet his death for the sake of Christ.
But grace does not perfect nature
simply by bringing it
to some expected conclusion;
grace perfects us
grace perfects us
by diverting and disturbing
the trajectories of our lives.
Gratia perficiat naturam, true.
But often it is the case
that this means gratia turbit naturam:
grace disturbs nature,
prodding and poking it
the trajectories of our lives.
Gratia perficiat naturam, true.
But often it is the case
that this means gratia turbit naturam:
grace disturbs nature,
prodding and poking it
in unexpected directions.
And here we see the natural family
prodded and poked and disturbed,
by the closed circle of kinship
being broken open to become
the graced family of disciples.
And here we see the natural family
prodded and poked and disturbed,
by the closed circle of kinship
being broken open to become
the graced family of disciples.
But Jesus is suggesting something
even more disturbing.
The graced family of disciples
can become simply another version
of the closed circle of natural kinship
unless it orients itself away from itself,
unless is becomes the sign
of the glory of the Kingdom.
We Thomists can focus so much
on gratia perficiat naturam
that we forget that
gloria perfeciat gratiam:
glory perfects grace.
And like grace perfecting nature,
it perfects by disturbing:
gloria turbit naturam.
After gesturing to the gathered disciples
Jesus says “whoever does the will
of my heavenly Father
is my brother, and sister, and mother.”
This “whoever” suggests to me that,
when grace gives way to glory,
those of us counted among the redeemed
might well be surprised
by who we find there with us.
As important as the community of disciples is
as a sign and foretaste of the Kingdom,
that sign must always point away from itself
to the greater reality of the Kingdom—
the new creation whose scope is God’s secret.
Gratia turbit naturam
and gloria turbit gratiam,
and thanks be to God for that,
for the presence of grace and the hope of glory
with which the Spirit inspires us
ought to prod and poke us
out of our closed circles
and into the wild mystery of divine love.
May God who is merciful
have mercy on us all.
