Our readings begin this week with these words: “Observe what is right, do what is just” (Isaiah 56:1). Our Gospel concludes with this instruction: “O woman, great is your faith! Let it be done for you as you wish” (Matthew 15:28).

The Gospel offered the rather strange account of the debate between Jesus and the Canaanite woman, a pagan. The roots of her religion were ancient, and polytheistic, worshiping multiple gods and goddesses, with El as their principal male deity. Modern biblical scholars link this religion to the ancient roots of the Jewish people, as the word “Isra-El” means “El rules.” Perhaps due to this historic link – already ancient at the time of Jesus – those Jewish people had a deep and powerful disdain for the Canaanites; they had fallen behind.

Jesus’ interaction shows however, the progression and evolution of authentic faith: first the Israelites committed themselves to one God, the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob. And now they were completing the promises of Yahweh through the prophet Isaiah as they declared their faith in Jesus as the promised Messiah. For the Israelites, this progression of faith extended over thousands of years; for the Canaanite mother, who asked for healing for her daughter, the progression took place during an interaction with Jesus where he was eating. Minutes? Perhaps some days in advance as she observed and listened to Him from the fringes of the crowd?

The culmination of her faith is captured in the exclamation by Jesus: “O woman, great is your faith!”

Those words should give us pause to examine where our own hearts are in our commitment and faith in Jesus; are we ready to receive the same exclamation from Jesus?

I know that every one of you reading this note want to shout “Yes! I am His disciple! I believe!”

But … do our actions speak louder than our words, or our hearts? Can we look back on this past week, and see complete adherence to the Gospel? Did you have a moment where you did not forgive your enemies, and love them? Did you have a time when you set aside our beliefs for convenience, or to avoid secular criticism. Did we “Witness the Gospel with our lives” for all 168 hours this week? I wish I could say that I did, but I know that I did not; we all have moments of impatience, of judgement, of pride.

So let us ask Jesus for a humble heart, like the Canaanite woman, to express our faith more fully each moment of the coming week.

Often, parishioners will ask me about what Bible they should use to immerse themselves in Scripture. It is not a simple question, as there are different versions, and sometimes these versions have unique translations. Preparing today, I am using the Revised New Jerusalem Bible, which incorporates a highly “literary” style, while remaining faithful to Catholic Biblical standards. Our first reading, in this translation, has these words: “After the fire, there was a light sound of silence. And when Elijah heard this, he covered his face with his cloak and went out and stood at the entrance of the cave. Then a voice came to him, saying, ‘What are you doing here, Elijah?’”

Wow! What would happen if you or I became so in-tune with listening for the voice of God, the voice of our Good Shepherd, that we heard God ask us, in a quiet, still moment, “What are you doing here, Father Jim?”

I would certainly want to have a good, strong and solid answer for God. If we link this passage with our Gospel, the Apostles were terrified when they encountered a spirit – Jesus – walking on the stormy water. And Jesus says to them, “Courage! It’s Me! Don’t be afraid” Matthew 14:28).

There is such tenderness in these words. Jesus does ask us – every day – “What are you doing here?” And while we struggle sometimes to come up with an answer, Jesus is already telling us, “Don’t be afraid.”

In every moment of fear, Jesus is here. In every moment of fear, Jesus hears! Present and listening to us constantly is an apt description of Jesus as our Lord and Savior, constantly seeking us out even before we begin to seek Him. Fear restricts us, causing us to hide, or to act tentatively. Father Jacques Phillipe wrote:“Very often we feel restricted in our situation, our family, or our surroundings. But maybe the real problem lies elsewhere: in ourhearts” (Interior Freedom, p. 20). This reminds me of the gentle but courageously strong words in the hymn, Hosea: “Come back to me with all your heart. Don’t let fear keep us apart.”

Never let fear allow yourself to be separated from God’s love; His love is all powerful, perfect and unchanging. Only our fear causes us to miss out on responding generously and freely to His love. And unless we then pass that love on to others, we haven’t really loved Him.

Choices; every day, we make hundreds of choices, most of which are of minimal importance. You chose what shirt to wear today; for some that might be a fashion statement, for another it was simply a uniform for work. You chose a particular parking spot in the church lot just before Mass, perhaps thinking of shade for your car, or perhaps thinking of exiting (“Did you back in for a smooth exit?”)

Saint Thomas Aquinas acknowledged that every time we make a choice, we have renounced a different choice. I can’t get up early and sleep late on the same day; one choice excludes the other. I can’t skip breakfast and eat breakfast on the same day … although I could choose to skip breakfast at one hour, and later choose that I was hungry, and discarding the first choice, I now enjoy scrambled eggs and bacon. Our Gospel today invites us to explore the choices we make about God.

Is God the “… pearl of great price …” for which I would sell everything else to claim to be a disciple? Do I see God as a treasure buried in a field, and before I dig into the field, I know that I must buy that field, that is, commit to God?

I cannot be with you this weekend, as I made a choice – a commitment – to celebrate a wedding for a family friend in San Diego, a choice I made a year ago and put on my calendar. Some things make it to the calendar, and others just sort of happen. A few things in life can be so important that they change what was previously on our calendar, even if that first event seemed very important at the time.

Ultimately, our important choices define us; they become our resume, and our calendar of events. But they only define our response to God’s plan for us. We could choose not to come to Mass, and would hopefully feel guilty, or at least feel that we missed the grace that  Jesus offers. We could choose to carry a grudge, or to embrace forgiveness with another.

There is a prayer said quietly at Mass each day, either by the deacon or priest, as the chalice is prepared: “Through the mystery of this water and wine, may we come to share in the divinity of Christ, who humbled Himself to share in our humanity.” The portion of water, poured into the chalice, cannot then be removed. So, to, Jesus chose to enter into human history, to pledge His divinity with our humanity into One Savior; in choosing this path, He sanctified every human life. Yours. Mine. Our friends. Our enemies. Strangers. Every life, sacred in His eyes!

Consider your choices of this past week, and for the coming week. Did you choose God first? Second? Last? Did you choose to make God important in your life, as He certainly sees you as important in His!