A Reflection for Monday of the Twentieth Week in Ordinary Time
Find today’s readings here.
When the young man heard this statement, he went away sad,
for he had many possessions.
The struggles of the young man in today’s passage from Matthew are painfully relatable. He comes to Jesus with a sincere desire to follow him, and a thirst to know more about the commandments, about “the good,” about God. Yet after Jesus recites several commandments that the young man has faithfully observed, he comes to a final step that his would-be disciple must take to fully embrace him: “Sell what you have and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven. Then come, follow me.” This proves to be a bridge too far; the young man turns away from Jesus, unable to renounce his earthly possessions.
What is Jesus inviting us to leave behind? What “possessions” do we cling to, even if we know in the marrow of our bones that they create distance between us and God? St. Ignatius’ concept of “disordered attachments” provides additional clarity. For Ignatius, an attachment is disordered when a person places it above God or even allows it to become a barrier between himself or herself and God. In the First Principle and Foundation of the Spiritual Exercises, Ignatius writes:
“Man is created to praise, reverence, and serve God…the other things on the face of the earth are created for man and that they may help him in prosecuting the end for which he is created. From this it follows that man is to use them as much as they help him on to his end, and ought to rid himself of them so far as they hinder him as to it.”
I frequently encounter such hindrances in my own life.
The biggest stumbling blocks in my relationship with Jesus are other “possessions”—not necessarily physical objects but unhealthy attachments of the soul. How often do I neglect to pray at the start or end of the day—be it the Examen, the Rosary or simply several minutes in silent conversation with God—because my attention is captured by bright, shiny, worldly things (usually on a screen)? I’m sometimes tempted to spend those ten minutes checking the latest push notification on my phone or watching the latest episode of my latest televised obsession (this summer, it’s The Bear). These attractions may not be intrinsicallybad, but they are all worldly–and all of them can easily distract us from the greatest pleasure of all: a relationship with God in the person of Jesus. Disordered attachments can take on individual or collective dimensions; I hear echoes of the young man in political movements in our society that claim to bear the standard of Christ and uphold Christian values while callously refusing to provide material support to the poor and marginalized.
When I notice myself falling into this sort of trap, Ignatius’ Suscipe prayer helps me reorient myself towards God: “Take, Lord, and receive all my liberty, my memory, my understanding, and my entire will, all I have and call my own…Give me only your love and your grace, that is enough for me.” Yet I also find hope in what this Gospel passage does not tell us. Matthew does not finish the young man’s story after he turns away from Jesus; he thus leaves open the possibility that the man—who we know is trying to live faithfully—does eventually turn away from his disordered attachments and devotes himself fully to God. I like to imagine that his story ends this way; that he eventually, perhaps after Jesus’ passion and Resurrection, determines that God is the center of his life and places Jesus above all the earthly goods that he owns.
