In the first reading, great care is taken to describe the moment when the Ark of the Covenant is brought into Jerusalem. This is not simply a religious procession; it is a profound statement of faith. The Ark represents the dwelling place of God among the people. Where the Ark is, God is near. David dances, sacrifices are offered, and blessings are shared because God who has journeyed with the people since the time of the Exodus, continues to dwell with Israel and now in the holy city of Jerusalem.
Yet even here, something important is already beginning to shift. The Ark is not a talisman, charm, or amulet with magical powers. It does not guarantee blessing by its mere presence. What matters is how the people respond. Will they respond like King David with reverence, joy, obedience, and trust? David’s relationship with God is revealed not by possession of the Ark, but by his willingness to place God at the center of Israel’s life.
In the Gospel, Jesus completes this movement in a startling way. When told that his mother and relatives are waiting outside Jesus takes the moment and redefines what it means to a member of his family. “Whoever does the will of God is my brother and sister and mother.” He is not rejecting his biological relationships, but pointing to something that is intentional and will endure beyond this lifetime.
With these words, Jesus moves us from a sacred object to a sacred community. God’s dwelling place is no longer an ark carried on poles, nor a tent or a temple. God now dwells in a people shaped by obedience to his will. The presence of God is revealed wherever lives are aligned with the Father’s purpose.
This is also where Jesus reshapes kinship. Belonging to God is not determined by bloodline, religious proximity, or external markers. True kinship is formed by obedience. It is formed by listening, trusting, and living according to God’s word. Mary herself is not excluded by this definition; she is its first and finest example. She belongs to Jesus not only because she bore him, but because she said, “Let it be done to me according to your word.”
These readings quietly challenge us. It asks us to examine our own religious thinking and practice. The Catholic Church has an amazing treasure of rituals, traditions and things sacred. Have we let our focus fall on those things in such a way that we remain distant from the heart of God? It is possible to honor holy places, rituals, and symbols — all good and necessary — without allowing them to shape how we live.
Jesus invites us deeper. He invites us to become a community where God truly dwells, not because we gather around holy objects, but because we choose obedience, day by day. When we forgive, when we act justly, when we place God’s will above our own preferences, we become the living dwelling place of God.
Like David, we are called to rejoice in God’s nearness. Like the disciples, we are called to hear Jesus say that we belong, not because of who we are connected to, but because we choose to do the will of the Father.
In that obedience, we discover something astonishing: we are not just servants of God. We are family.
Image credit: Pexels | Arina Krasnikova | CC-0
One aspect of Francis’ changing life that has attracted recent attention is the movement of Francis from solitary figure, living a quasi-hermetical life for four to five years, now beginning to live in a growing community of brothers – all of whom are looking to Francis for spiritual and communal leadership. There was something attractive about Francis, his way of following the gospel, and perhaps the recent “commissioning” by Pope Innocent III gave a certain cache of legitimacy to this way of being Christian in the world. Eventually many people came to join the Franciscan movement, which soon enough became a religio and eventually an ordo, but those demarcations are eight to ten years in the future ahead of the Spring of 1209.
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