Jesus said to his Apostles

“Do not think that I have come to bring peace to the earth; I have not come to bring peace, but a sword.

For I have come to set a man against his father,
 and a daughter against her mother,
 and a daughter-in-law against her mother-in-law;
 and one’s foes will be members of one’s own household.

Whoever loves father or mother more than me is not worthy of me; and whoever loves son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me; and whoever does not take up the cross and follow me is not worthy of me. Those who find their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake will find it.

“Whoever welcomes you welcomes me, and whoever welcomes me welcomes the one who sent me. Whoever welcomes a prophet in the name of a prophet will receive a prophet’s reward; and whoever welcomes a righteous person in the name of a righteous person will receive the reward of the righteous; and whoever gives even a cup of cold water to one of these little ones in the name of a disciple—truly I tell you, none of these will lose their reward.”

Now when Jesus had finished instructing his twelve disciples, he went on from there to teach and proclaim his message in their cities.

New Revised Standard Version, copyright 1989, by the National Council of the Churches of Christ in the United States of America. Used by permission. All rights reserved. USCCB approved.

Today's Gospel is one that is easily co-opted to justify almost any ideology, politics, or theology. Like manipulating data, Scripture can be made to say whatever we want if we strip it from context and filter it through our own media ecosystem.

My faith has been shaped by years of accompanying those pushed to the margins. It is a perspective that carries bias. It is limited and partial.

It is a discipleship that requires daily discernment.

And if I'm honest, it is often exhausting.

Some days ministry feels like putting out one dumpster fire after another.

In today’s Gospel, I hear not only a call to courageous, uncomfortable action, but also an invitation to rest. That may seem like a counterintuitive leap, but I believe God is looking for more members, not more martyrs.

We must leave room for God to refill what has been poured out. Grace cannot replenish a cup that never stops moving.

Just as Jesus "went on from there," in what ways is discipleship calling you to continued, courageous action? And in what ways is discernment inviting you to rest?

—Jill Drzewiecki is the executive director of Casa Romero Renewal Center, bringing nearly three decades of faith-based experience accompanying displaced persons to advance the center’s mission.

I offer the following reflection by Thomas Merton, from Conjectures of a Guilty Bystander, as a prayer in response to today's sometimes head-scratching—and even unsettling—Gospel. His words have accompanied me for many years, especially in seasons when ministry has felt less like changing the world and more like tending to one crisis after another—and trying to hold together what is unraveling.

“There is a pervasive form of contemporary violence to which the idealisd t most easily succumbs: activism and overwork. The rush and pressure of modern life are a form, perhaps the most common form, of its innate violence. To allow oneself to be carried away by a multitude of conflicting concerns, to surrender to too many demands, to commit oneself to too many projects, to want to help everyone in everything, is to succumb to violence. The frenzy of our activism neutralizes our work for peace. It destroys our own inner capacity for peace. It destroys the fruitfulness of our own work, because it kills the root of inner wisdom which makes work fruitful.”

Amen.

—Jill Drzewiecki (with a prayer by Thomas Merton)