Stranger’s No Longer

When visiting someone’s home, we are often invited in, offered a place to sit, a refreshment, and when the purpose of the visit is complete, we are thanked and escorted to the door. There is something wonderfully different in being welcomed into someone’s home; truly welcomed. The kind of welcome where someone says, “Make yourself at home.” A place where you know everyone’s “usual seats” and you might even be comfortable totally slouching in your place.

In a way, that is St. Paul’s message to the gentiles in today’s first reading. He reminds them that there was a time when they were outsiders.  They were not part of the family of the covenant, not “at home” in the household of God. But then Christ came. And through his death and resurrection, Christ broke down the walls that had separated people from one another and brought them together into one family. “So then you are no longer strangers and sojourners, but you are fellow citizens with the holy ones and members of the household of God.”

Perhaps we take for granted Paul’s message, especially we cradle Catholics. We’ve always been “fellow citizens.” We regularly attend Mass in the “house of God,” our local parish church. So we might not consider that we don’t simply attend God’s house. We belong to God’s household.

A visitor might be welcomed for an afternoon. A member of the household belongs there even when things are messy, life is difficult, and even when everyone isn’t getting along. That’s what Christ has made possible. But today’s Gospel tells us something even more remarkable about the household to which we belong.

The gospel story seems unremarkable: servants waiting for their master to return from a wedding celebration. Everything is ready for his arrival so that when he knocks, they can immediately open the door. Nothing surprising or out of place there. I mean, afterall, that’s their job. But this is no ordinary household.

When the master arrives and finds his servants ready, what does he do? “Amen, I say to you, he will gird himself, have them recline at table, and proceed to wait on them.” The master becomes the servant, invites them to sit, whereupon he serves them. Clearly, that’s not how households ordinarily worked in Jesus’ day – which is precisely the point: God’s household is unlike any other household.

We belong to a household where the Master doesn’t simply demand service. He gives himself in service. Think of the scene at the Last Supper when At the Last Supper, he kneels before his disciples and washes their feet. The question He asks of them then still echoes for us today: “Do you know what I have done for you? (John 13:7) It is a question we should remember and attempt to answer each and every day.

It is a question that should echo in our being as we come forward to receive the Eucharist, because we come as members of God’s household. We bring our prayers, our gratitude, our worries, our struggles, and our desire to serve God faithfully. We arrive at the Lord’s table, and the Master serves us his servants. He gives us his own Body and Blood. The One we have come to worship becomes the One who feeds us.

Usually we hear Jesus’ command to be vigilant, to keep our lamps burning, and be at the ready for our master’s return as a warning: don’t be unprepared. But today we are called to hear the words with an additional nuance. We are not waiting for a stranger.

We are waiting for the One who has already welcomed us into his household, already given his life for us. The one who already knows us, loves us and welcomes us to his table. This changes the character of our waiting. We don’t keep our lamps burning simply because we’re afraid of being caught unprepared. We keep them burning because we are waiting for the One we love.

And while we wait, we live as members of his household, to welcome others as Christ has welcomed us. To serve as we have been served and to overcome the divisions that keep us from being one household.

In a way, I think today’s homily should come with a “spoiler alert.” So often we are encouraged and admonished to “prepare a place for Jesus”, “be ready to serve Him when he comes,” and spend our lives preparing to welcome Christ.

Spoiler alert: when He comes, we will discover that Christ has been preparing to welcome us.


Image credit: created using Dalle-3 based on the text of this post’s use of Jesus washing the disciple’s feet. Downloaded 10-19-2026

Something new

This coming Sunday is the 30th Sunday in Ordinary Time. The gospel this week condenses the teaching of Jesus into its most simple form. And it is not a new topic in this Gospel. Jesus has already taught the centrality of love in the life of the disciples and that love for “neighbor” includes the “enemy” (Sermon on the Mount; 5:21–48, esp. 23–48). It is also not a radical topic for Judaism. Jewish teachers of Jesus’ day offered the same response adding that the rest of the scriptures are but commentary on these two things.  In Deut 6:4–5, the command to love God is part of the Shema, which begins with the confession of the oneness of God, the closest thing to a universal creed in Judaism. In the Gospel of Mark, this same account is told as a friendly scribe making a sincere inquiry in which Jesus commends the scribe for his answer, declaring that the scribe is not far from the kingdom of God (Mk 12:28–34). Here in Matthew’s account, why would this become a controversy?

Since Matthew 21 Jesus has been involved in controversy with the leading people of Jerusalem (Sadducees, Pharisees, scholars, scribes, Herodians, etc.) about the issue of authority: “When he had come into the temple area, the chief priests and the elders of the people approached him as he was teaching and said, ‘By what authority are you doing these things?  And who gave you this authority?’” (Mt 21:23). The three parables (Man who had two sons, the vintner and tenants, and the great wedding banquet of the King’s son) have been followed by three controversies (taxes to Caesar, resurrection, and now the question of the greatest commandment).

This shift from a scholastic inquiry to a controversy over authority is important for Matthew’s community (in the last part of the 1st century) which is finding its way in the world after the destruction of Jerusalem and the Temple (70 AD). With the center of praxis of Jewish life lost, there was a regrounding in the practice of faith that was beginning to take shape in the form of rabbi-led Judaism (as opposed to the priest-led practice when the Temple was still present). It is believed that the Pharisees, scribes and scholars of the law formed the tone and sense of post-70 AD Judaism. The tide of this movement will ultimately lead to an expulsion from synagogue of all Jews who held Jesus to be the Messiah. This will be the final break in ranks between Judaism and early Christianity.

In this final controversy, it is perhaps why a professional theologian from their ranks becomes their spokesman (the only occurrence of “lawyer” (nomikos) in Matthew). His question is no longer sincere or collegial, as in Mark, but is to “test” Jesus (peirazō, as in 4:1, 3; 16:1; 19:3; 22:18; only the devil and the Pharisees are the subject of this verb in Matthew). The address, “teacher,” is insincere and stands in contrast to the believers’ address, “Lord.” Jesus has just defended the Pharisees’ point of view, as he does throughout this section (cf. 23:1–2), yet their response is to test him as did Satan. In Matthew’s understanding, this is more than a religious debate; once again, the two kingdoms confront each other.

Eugene Boring (424) notes: “The nature of the test is not clear. The clue may be given by Matthew’s addition “in the Law.” The rabbis had counted 613 commands (248 positive commands, corresponding to the number of parts of the body; 365 negative commands, corresponding to the days of the year). Although rabbinical teachers could also indulge in giving summaries of the Law, there was also the view that all commandments were equal, with any ranking of them being mere human presumption in evaluating the divine law, all of which was equally binding. The lawyer may be attempting to draw Jesus into this debate and get him to make some statement that could be interpreted as disparaging toward (some part of) the Law, such as declaring the “moral law” more important than the “ceremonial law.” This is a charge to which the Markan version of this story is very amenable, since not only Jesus but also the scribe subscribes to it.”

Unlike Mark, Matthew focuses on the polemical aspect of the scene, he does not develop the theological issues that interest the contemporary interpreter (cf. Luke, who relocates the passage, 10:25–28): (1) the meaning of “love,” (2) the meaning of “neighbor,” and (3) the meaning of Jesus’ responding with two commands.


Image credit: The Pharisees Question Jesus (Les pharisiens questionnent Jésus), James Tissot, 1886-1894, Brooklyn Museum, PD-US