Our Gospel today (Matthew 9:36-10:8) opens with: ‘At the sight of the crowds, Jesus’ heart was moved with pity for them because they were troubled and abandoned, like sheep without a shepherd.’
To dive deeper into this one line, we have to put it in the context of what came before. Jesus heals a paralytic, then calls Matthew the tax collector-not curing him of a bodily ailment but rescuing him from the path he was pursuing and from the way he was perceived by others. He heals the woman suffering from hemorrhages and raises a little girl from the dead. He restores sight to two blind men and drives a demon out of a mute person. Yet even as Jesus brings healing, his methods are questioned, and he is accused of being in league with the very demons he casts out. Still, he continues moving from town to town, teaching and lifting the burdens of those he meets.
Imagine Jesus now looking at the crowds…
If I were Jesus, at the sight of the crowds, I would have just thrown up my arms in resignation, ‘My God, it never stops!’ Or maybe, after having encountered so much suffering, I would have already been calloused and unfeeling, ‘It’s just another day on the road.’ But Jesus is ‘moved with pity.’
‘Moved with pity’ is probably not the best translation for the Greek esplanchnisth?. The root of this word is from splanxna, which refers to our bowels, entrails, and internal parts, laman-loob. A better translation might be ‘moved with compassion.’ But the Filipino language gives us better alternatives: galing sa bituka, ramdam sa puso, tagos sa kaibuturan ng pagkatao at pagka-Diyos ni Hesus.
When we are troubled, he is also deeply troubled. And Jesus doesn’t just empathize; our Lord acts. Because the people are like sheep without a shepherd, you might think that his next move would be to shepherd them. But he does something else: He prays for more laborers, and then he calls the Twelve. He appoints other shepherds.
Reading their names, I find myself wondering, ‘Would Jesus’ mission have been easier if he did it solo?’ When I was still a student, I never liked group projects. For me, collaborations just added to the labor. You would have to coordinate with classmates, take pains to arrive at a consensus, and negotiate assignments which you would have to redo anyway because you can’t always depend on people to do their parts well.
Working with others means navigating conflicting opinions, clashing personalities, and colliding egos. Among the Twelve, you have Matthew, who, being a former tax collector, would have colluded with the Romans. But you also have Simon the Cananean, a member of the Zealots, a political group willing to use violent means to expel the foreign invaders. You have Bartholomew (also called Nathanael) who was sincere and whom Jesus described as having no guile. But you also have Judas Iscariot who deceived and betrayed Jesus.
Jesus appointed the Twelve because he was deeply moved by the plight of the sheep. Yet we are not certain that the Twelve shared his compassion or were guided by the same motivations. Consider Peter: When Jesus spoke of his willingness to suffer, Peter rebuked him-likely out of fear, since suffering was not what Peter had signed up for. Later, when Jesus again described what awaited him in Jerusalem, James and John asked to sit at his right and left, envisioning glory rather than sacrifice. Their request revealed how profoundly they had misunderstood Jesus’ mission.
Why did Jesus summon the Twelve if they would only impede his work? Perhaps forming a community was never meant to be just a way to support the mission. What if, instead, the very act of forming a community was at the core of the mission itself?
Note to my younger self: What if the point of a group project was not just the output? What if there are things you can learn only when you are part of a group?
Imagine Jesus looking at you now. Whether you are in a good place or feeling troubled, Jesus feels with you. And no matter how long you have already been troubled and no matter how many troubles you have shared with him, you can never exhaust his compassion. But imagine Jesus looking at the crowds also. He feels with them just as he feels with you-galing sa bituka, ramdam sa puso, tagos sa kaibuturan niya. Now imagine Jesus calling you to shepherd the crowds with him. Imagine Jesus asking you to allow yourself to be shepherded by others, too. Imagine Jesus forming us into a community.
To dive deeper into this call, we have to put it in the context of the Sundays that came before. Three weeks ago, we celebrated the Feast of Pentecost. Remember that the Holy Spirit came to the disciples while they were gathered as a community, probably huddled in fear but together as they waited with hope. Two weeks ago, we commemorated the Solemnity of the Most Holy Trinity. What God-as-Father-Son-and-Spirit teaches us is that at the very core of God is a community, and we who are created in the image and likeness of God are most like God when we also strive to thrive in community. Last week, we celebrated Corpus Christi, the Feast of the Body and Blood of Christ. Not only does the Body of Christ nourish us to fulfill the mission of community, community makes us the Body of Christ.
Your prayer assignment this week:
Reflect on Francis M’s ‘Kaleidoscope World.’
Every color and every hue
Is represented by me and you
Take a slide in the slope
Take a look in the kaleidoscope
The patterns you see in a kaleidoscope are not always beautiful. You still have to spin it around and make it twirl. You have to keep trying until you see something that gives you a glimpse of God.
The past week, my small community and I experienced the difficulty of being part of an even bigger community. I heard so many different opinions about the tragedies we are facing.
So many faces, so many races
Different voices, different choices…
Others grieve, while others curse
And others mourn behind a big black hearse…
There are times you just want to shut different voices out. But there is wisdom in difference. We slide down the slope. We fall. But we keep spinning and twirling, believing we will come closer to the truth in the kaleidoscope.