Commentary of the Gospell for August 17, 2024

August 17, 2024

For most human beings who are halfway sane in mind and heart, it’s natural to smile when we see a baby or a small child. A nephew of mine, whom I sometimes had to take for a walk or to the park, would get confused and perplexed if his smile, which he directed at anyone we met along the way, wasn’t returned. When he started talking, he would greet everyone, and if there was no response, he would insist, perhaps assuming they hadn’t heard him…

The scene of Jesus surrounded by children that the Gospels tell us about, when read now, is nice and familiar; it presents us with an adult reacting to them like one of those “halfway sane” human beings. We know well that Jesus Christ is much more: he is the most perfect son of man. The parents present their children to him, sensing that there is blessing and health in Him. And the disciples are wrong. They believe that the socially irrelevant, as minors were at that time and place, represent a hindrance and the Master should not waste time with them.

We have already seen recently, in another passage from Matthew’s account, that Jesus admonishes them and explains that the angels of those children are seeing the glory of God. One of those little ones acquires an unthinkable dignity, he is the owner of the kingdom of heaven. What’s more, we must become like one of them to enter the kingdom. To become a child is to be amazed at the wonder of life and to trust in the loving arms of the one who sustains and cares for us.

Some scripture scholars believe that all the Psalms refer to Jesus. He, who knew the Scriptures perfectly, would recite them frequently. This Gospel reading from today’s liturgy brings me to Psalm 131: Lord, my heart is not proud, / nor my eyes haughty; / I do not concern myself with great matters / or things too wonderful for me. / But I have calmed and quieted my soul, / like a weaned child with its mother; / like a weaned child is my soul within me. / O Israel, hope in the Lord / from this time forth and forevermore.  

Virginia Fernández