Discovering that we are worthy and Jesus’ feminine touch
(Mt 8:5–17)
‘The essential thing is to listen to what rises up from within. Our actions are often nothing more than imitation, a hypothetical duty or a mistaken representation of what it means to be human. But the only true certainty that touches our lives and our actions can come only from the springs that gush forth from the depths of our being.
One is at home under the sky; one is at home anywhere on this earth if one carries everything within oneself.
I have often felt, and still feel, like a ship that has taken on board a precious cargo:
the ropes are cut and now the ship sails on, free to navigate everywhere’.
[Etty Hillesum, Diary]
The Tao Te Ching (LIII) says: ‘The Great Way is very level, but people prefer the paths’.
Commenting on this passage, the masters Wang Pi and Ho-shang Kung emphasise: ‘winding paths’.
The fledgling faith of a converted pagan is the example that Jesus holds up above that of the observant Israelites.
What heals is believing in the efficacy of his Word alone (vv. 8–9, 16), an event that possesses generative and recreative power.
The Lord shows compassion, usually by touching the sick or laying his hands on them, as if to absorb what was imagined to be impurity, a deviation from normality [a ‘fever’ or paralysis that was believed to render the person in need unworthy in God’s eyes].
In the Judaising communities of Galilee and Syria, as late as the mid-70s, people were still asking: does God’s new Law, proclaimed on ‘the Mount’ of the Beatitudes, create exclusions?
Or does it correspond to the hopes and the deep sensibilities of the human heart, in every place and time (vv. 10–12)?
Those on the margins possessed a keen intuition for the new things of the Spirit, and discovered the lived experience of faith from different perspectives – unestablished, less bound by conformist conventions; perhaps even uncomfortable ones.
It was not uncommon for the newcomers themselves to stand out for the freshness of their fundamental insight – and to see things clearly.
All that was needed was to communicate face to face with the Lord, in a spirit of assured friendship (v. 6).
There is no need for any great additions to this secret in order to be reborn. God is immediate Action (v. 7).
The personal relationship between the ordinary person and the Father in Christ is unadorned and instantaneous.
Drawing on his own simple experience, the centurion grasps the ‘remote’ value of the Word and the magnetic pull of true Faith [which does not require ‘contacts’ or material and local elements: vv. 8–9].
In short, cultural heritage and ancient religious conformism remained a burden.
Here and there, there was a lack of both the experience of Christ as one’s personal Saviour and the full realisation of the power of life contained in the new, all-encompassing and creative proposal of ‘the Mount’.
Matthew writes his Gospel to encourage members of the community and to spur on the mission to the Gentiles, which the Jewish Christians were not yet ready to embrace.
But to speak of ‘Faith’ (vv. 10, 13) means to advocate a deeper commitment, and [at the same time] a less overt expression.
The expression of personal Faith is not to repeat or water down a learned doctrine, nor the convictions of others.
There is no need to fear: God has gone before us; the one who is different and far away is not a stranger, but a brother.
Therefore, what saves is not belonging to a tradition or a way of thinking and worship.
Not demanding that the Lord appear in a certain form means not imagining him bound to an external expression.
He is reached and grasped only intimately, through certain vision – free from imagined convictions deemed indispensable – whatever may happen.
He will reveal himself each time in the way best suited to our limitations.
Those who are distant from us are creatures who are wholly ‘worthy’, though at times wavering and fallible.
They are not self-sufficient, nor are they sufficient, like everyone else – simply because they do not realise that God is in their very flesh and in their own homes.
Thanks to this clear awareness in the Son, they can finally comprehend the Father’s supreme Love, which is freely given and without reserve; a Love that astounds, helps them overcome their awkwardness and propels them forward.
The pagan is conditioned by his hierarchical world, but upon encountering Christ he discovers himself to be a fully adequate and fulfilled person.
Not because he has earned or granted favours to the chosen people, or fulfilled a special kind of observance (by reciting formulas with an imprimatur).
In the Lord, he himself is taught to broaden the horizons of conventional religion – which consists of external, vertical relationships.
Although he recognises his own shortcomings [v.8 Greek text], he senses that his relationship with God does not depend on an exchange of favours.
Such an immediate and spontaneous personal friendship is not subordinate to works of the law, nor does it spring from fulfilled rules of purity.
Nor is it subject to a religious relationship in which one bows one’s head.
The ‘distant one’ embraces love. In this way, he is already liberated from a superficial, shallow, commonplace mindset.
In the Lord, he himself is taught to broaden the horizons of conventional religion.
He believes, in fact, that the Word of the Lord – as the Way, beyond synchronised or predetermined places and times – brings about what it proclaims.
And that it brings this about even from a distance; without even sensational or peremptory signs that cause a commotion.
Rather, by liberating the mysterious Energy [still imprisoned] of the ‘Logos’ (v.7).
An unconventional Word, which does not spin idly.
This is so, despite the fact that this Power may be found mingled with convictions that are at times contradictory:
He is already far removed from a magical and carnal mindset.
But he must still take the decisive step that will enable him to grow beyond this – and this concerns us closely.
Self-esteem must be the attitude of even the most distant children, at all costs.
Not out of some vague or emotional inner feeling, but because of a Presence that is guaranteed regardless – indeed, already at work, though sometimes unconsciously so.
Internalising this will be the work – and the ‘something more’ – of mature Faith, which sees, grasps and penetrates the preparatory energies at work.
And it actualises them, anticipating the future.
‘I am not worthy’ is, along with ‘Have mercy on me’ or ‘Son of David’, one of the most unfortunate expressions of spiritual and missionary life.
These are phrases that Jesus abhors, even though they have become commonplace in certain liturgical expressions.
The prodigal son tries, with the very same rambling expression [‘I am no longer worthy’], to move the Father, who precisely does not allow him to finish this absurd tirade.
Rather, He prevents him from considering himself ‘one of his servants’ and kneeling before Him [Lk 15:21ff].
This would truly be the only danger that jeopardises one’s entire life; not merely a small part of one’s existence.
Through faith in Christ, from being incomplete we become not only most worthy, but we are thus, here and now, perfect to fulfil our vocation.
Of course, some ideologue or purist might consider us old-fashioned, or even still clinging to pagan ways.
Our great and only risk is precisely that of absorbing such oppressive opinions from our surroundings and allowing ourselves to be influenced by them.
It is not uncommon for every social context to operate according to the logic of hierarchies and power relations, whereby, for example, the subordinate should not consider themselves on the same level as their superior.
But at this rate, we can no longer perceive the divine Presence.
The Face of the Eternal One is within us and in our home; not in a chain of command with conditioning influences, but in our surroundings and in those who stand by us – even beyond our borders.
Family, friends, loved ones and others are all on the same level. The same applies to God: we are face to face.
Nor does the ‘I and You’ framework with the Son matter any more: for – having become incarnate in a universal sense – He has planted His Heaven, as well as His very healing power [even that of self-healing], ‘within’ us.
Thanks to the Master, we are no longer within an ideology of submission – identical to that which prevailed in the empire – nor in a well-disciplined barracks, with distinct roles and confined spheres.
The structure of external propriety has no place in the Gospels.
In short, the Father no longer asks anyone to obey ‘authorities’, but rather to ‘resemble’ Him.
This is achieved simply by each of us responding to this sort of higher Presence that dwells within us and loves us.
It is the end of empty formalities: we are intimate and of the same blood as our own hidden Self, the supreme Face.
There is absolutely no need to ‘implore’ God (v.5) as if we were ‘subordinates’ (v.9).
Our task is to cultivate and acquire a new ‘eye’, not to submit to organisational hierarchies.
The reborn gaze intuitively perceives other virtues – it is not subject to classifications incapable of immediate fruitfulness.
Enough of these feelings of inadequacy!
They end up drawing us into cloisters and spire-like dynamics (v.9) typical of any stagnant feudalism.
A quagmire that annihilates the new power of love – rendering structures chronic.
Configurations set in stone by too many tedious chains of command and local monarchies [as we see, for example, in the provinces].
In the natural listening to oneself and to events, genuine esteem and divine gratuitousness guide us, wave upon wave, towards a new way of living and exchanging gifts.
An arduous path for those bound by habit; for the obviousness that does not shift one’s thoughts, and does not perceive.
A path inaccessible to those who act out of duty – an enigmatic, opaque, insidious and highly ‘tortuous’ path.
To internalise and live out the message:
How do you understand and nurture the certain and free Coming of Jesus into your home?
Catholic
The Church is Catholic because Christ embraces all humanity in his mission of salvation. Whilst Jesus’ mission during his earthly life was limited to the Jewish people, ‘the lost sheep of the house of Israel’ (Mt 15:24), it was nevertheless directed from the outset towards bringing the light of the Gospel to all peoples and bringing all nations into the Kingdom of God. Faced with the faith of the centurion in Capernaum, Jesus exclaims: ‘I tell you that many will come from the east and the west and will take their places at the feast with Abraham, Isaac and Jacob in the kingdom of heaven’ (Mt 8:11). This universalist perspective emerges, amongst other things, from Jesus’ presentation of himself not only as the ‘Son of David’, but as the ‘Son of Man’ (Mk 10:33), as we have also heard in the Gospel passage just proclaimed. The title ‘Son of Man’, in the language of Jewish apocalyptic literature inspired by the vision of history in the Book of the Prophet Daniel (cf. 7:13–14), evokes the figure who comes ‘on the clouds of heaven’ (v. 13); it is an image that heralds an entirely new kingdom, a kingdom sustained not by human powers, but by the true power that comes from God. Jesus makes use of this rich and complex expression and applies it to Himself to reveal the true nature of His messianism: a mission intended for all of humanity and for every individual, transcending all ethnic, national and religious particularism. And it is precisely by following Jesus, by allowing ourselves to be drawn into his humanity and thus into communion with God, that we enter this new kingdom, which the Church proclaims and anticipates, and which overcomes fragmentation and dispersion.
[Pope Benedict, address at the Consistory, 24 November 2012]
The Power of the Word and the Creativity
of Jesus’ Healing Touch (in the feminine form)
In the Judaising communities of Galilee and Syria, as late as the mid-70s, people were still asking: does God’s new Law, proclaimed on ‘the Mount’ of the Beatitudes, create exclusions? Or does it correspond to the hopes and the deep sensibilities of the human heart, in every place and time (vv. 10–12)?
The pagans possessed a keen intuition for the newness of the Spirit, and discovered the lived experience of Faith from different perspectives (unconventional, less bound by established conventions; perhaps even uncomfortable).
It was not uncommon for the newcomers themselves to possess the freshness of a fundamental intuition, and to see things clearly. This was in contrast to the veterans – more attached to the leaves than to the seed – to whom they offered salutary jolts of unadulterated trust, wedded to the Newness of God.
Unlike those coming from habitual or markedly ethnic forms of religiosity (even from Israel), they had already realised that it was not necessary to explicitly ask for Christ’s intervention – as was done with the ancient gods (and according to customary thinking).
It was enough to communicate face to face with the Lord, in a spirit of secure friendship (v.6) – not to urge him to perform a miracle: a fundamental realisation, so that even today we may set a new course in motion, and finally break free from the notion of a finely chiselled (and chosen) organic culture.
It is the Risen One who genuinely does what is right… and everything else: just as in Jesus – strengthened by the intimate experience of the Father in the Spirit – so too for us, Faith is enough, that is, the nuptial and fruitful trust in the Word, which is effective and inventive.
There is no need for any great additions to this secret in order to be reborn.
God is Immediate Action (v.7): he does not like to be ‘prayed to over and over again’ – as if he were just any sovereign who takes pleasure in forcing his subjects into deference (with a view to a consequent paternalism in relationships).
The relationship between the ordinary man and the Father in Christ is unadorned and instantaneous, without any form of mediation whatsoever: the work of Grace is in no way conditioned by acknowledgements and formulas, or ‘internal’ titles, or veteran status; nor by calculated bows, prior ‘bribes’, or bureaucratic procedures.
Drawing on his own simple experience, the centurion grasps the ‘remote’ value of the Word and the magnetic pull of true Faith (which does not require ‘contacts’ or material and local elements: vv. 8–9).
It is not like magic: the intimate sensitivity of the relationship of Faith conveys to the eye of the soul a Vision of a new genesis. Not doctrine, discipline, morality, ritual observances and so on.
It is a vision of the future (deeply existential) that does not serve to anticipate (v. 13) a self-serving outcome, useful only to the believer, or merely for the sake of nomenclature: it is for the promotion of life, everywhere.
This corresponds to the deepest longing of our hearts.
Indeed, another major innovation in the new Rabbi’s teaching – which was spreading – was the acceptance of women as what we would today call ‘deaconesses’ (cf. v. 15, Greek verb) of the Church, here in the figure of the House of Peter (v. 14).
This was what had been happening since the middle of the first century (cf. Rom 16:1) and still has much to teach us. With God, one cannot become accustomed to (multi-)centuries-old formalities that have been drained of life.
But religious traditions resisted the onslaught of the experience of Faith-Love: even in the mid-1970s, communities did not feel free to take in those in need of care until evening had fallen (v. 16).
According to the parallel passage in Mark 1:21, 29–34 (the source of the passage in Matthew), it was in fact the Sabbath – and after leaving the synagogue. The same hindrance and delay are described in the episode of Mary Magdalene at the tomb on Easter morning.
Cultural heritage and sacred religious conformism remained a heavy burden on the experience of Christ the personal Saviour, and on the full discovery of the power of Life in its fullness contained in the new, all-encompassing and creative proposal of ‘the Mountain’.
The Tao writes (xxviii): ‘He who knows he is male, yet remains female, is the strength of the world; being the strength of the world, virtue never departs from him, and he returns to being a child. He who knows he is pure, yet remains obscure, is the model of the world; being the model of the world, virtue never strays from him; and he returns to the infinite. He who knows he is glorious, yet remains in ignominy, is the valley of the world; being the valley of the world, virtue always abides in him; and he returns to being unpolished [genuine, unartificial]. When that which is unpolished is cut, then it is made into tools; when the sage makes use of it, then he makes it the foremost among his ministers. ‘For this reason, the great government does no harm.’
And so Master Wang Pi comments: ‘Here, the masculine represents the category of the one who precedes, whilst the feminine represents the category of the one who follows. He who knows he is first in the world must place himself last: for this reason, the sage puts himself last, and yet he is placed first. A gorge amongst the mountains does not seek out creatures, yet they turn to it of their own accord. The child does not rely on wisdom, but adapts to the wisdom of spontaneity’.
In the apocryphal Gospel of Thomas, we read in verses 22–23:
‘Jesus saw some little ones drinking milk
And said to his disciples:
“These little ones who are drinking milk are like those
Who enter the Kingdom”.
They asked him:
‘If we are like those children, will we enter the Kingdom?’
Jesus replied to them:
‘When you make two things into one, and make
the inside the same as the outside, and the outside the same as the inside,
and the higher the same as the lower,
When you reduce the male and the female to a single being
So that the male is not merely male
And the female does not remain merely female,
When you regard two eyes as a single eye
But a hand as a single hand
And a foot as a single foot,
A vital function in place of a vital function
Then you will find the entrance to the Kingdom.”
‘Jesus said:
“I shall choose one out of a thousand and two out of ten thousand,
And these shall turn out to be a single individual.”’







