Gospel Commentary for August 24, 2025

The Last Will Be First, and the First Will Be Last

Dear brothers and sisters, peace and all good.

We are all concerned about the future. Young people, because they don’t know what will become of them. Older people, because they have lived much, and would like to know how their final days will be. Throughout history, humanity has worried about salvation, eternal life, the life beyond death. Some lean toward the idea of a repeated existence, what is called “reincarnation.” Others think that strict observance of religious duties guarantees both this life and the next. Still others are convinced that only in their church is salvation found. Finally, a few simply strive to live an ethical life that allows them to discover the true meaning of their existence.

Concern about salvation was also very present in the popular imagination at the time of Jesus. The main theme of today’s Gospel responds to this. The initial question points to a deep problem: Will only a few be saved? The question assumes that salvation is reserved only for the people of Israel. But the ticket of entry will not be “being an Israelite,” but having genuine faith in Jesus—faith that leads to practicing justice—because God shows no partiality. Jesus refuses to satisfy this kind of curiosity. Instead of curiosity, He introduces surprise: the reality of the unexpected, and the need to strive to enter through the narrow gate.

The rabbis of Jesus’ time did not agree on the matter. Some said that Yahweh would welcome all Jews into His Kingdom. Others, exaggerating human wickedness, taught that salvation was reserved for very few. Later, the Book of Revelation would speak of one hundred and forty-four thousand chosen—clearly a symbolic and rather limited number compared with all of humanity.

For many years, the Israelites lived with the assurance of salvation. They were God’s chosen people, from the days of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. And now, suddenly, the carpenter’s son appears, telling them that not everything is guaranteed. Jesus tells them: don’t be so sure, because people will come from the east and the west, from the north and the south, and they will sit at table in the Kingdom of God. Something we also heard in today’s first reading, from the prophet Isaiah: “From among them too I will take priests and Levites.” Surely, in Jesus’ thought we can see the idea of universal salvation.

The guests invited by Jesus to sit at the Banquet of the Kingdom will be a countless number of people who have always been marginalized—probably those we least expect. The surprising thing about Jesus is not only the number of guests, but also their unlikely origin: they are the excluded, the ones who don’t count. These guests stand in contrast with those who presume to have the rights and credentials to participate: “We ate and drank with you, and you taught in our streets.” Yet despite these claims, they will hear: “I do not know you. I don’t know where you come from.”

In the same way, there is the danger that those who consider themselves privileged—because they faithfully pray, attend Mass, and observe the commandments of God and the Church—might discover that the order of participation in the banquet has been turned upside down. For “there are some who are last who will be first, and some who are first who will be last.” The logic of Jesus is not our logic. We struggle to understand it. God always goes further, and sees what we do not see, in the depths of the heart.

Something of this is echoed in the second reading. A letter written to persecuted Christians who could not quite understand what was happening to them. To help them, the author gives a simple explanation: part of the process of education is to correct and point out what is wrong—sometimes even to punish—all so that children may become better. Trials are a sign that God does not treat them as strangers but as children. For the moment they may complain about the Father’s severity, but later, when they have grown, they will thank Him for the education received.

Who are the last who will be first? Both in Jesus’ time and today, this group is well defined: they are the excluded and marginalized for economic, social, political, cultural, or religious reasons. In this society, a person has no value simply for being human; one is valued for what one possesses, the power one wields, or the knowledge one holds.

If we do not convert and set aside our false securities, they will go ahead of us in the Kingdom. Salvation, for Jesus, is not a purely passive matter. We cannot live off past merits. All of us, young and old, must try each day to better ourselves, to walk the path that leads to an encounter with God. Married people, in their homes; consecrated persons, renewing their commitments daily. Everyone. Because, even though God takes the initiative, we must be willing to accept it.

And to pass through a narrow gate, as we know, there is only one way: to make oneself small. Whoever is large and heavy cannot pass; they may try in many ways, head-on or sideways, but they will not succeed. This is what Jesus wants us to understand clearly: no one can be His disciple without renouncing greatness, without becoming small and the servant of all.

Salvation is not just a matter of fulfilling religious duties. The human being needs to examine every dimension of life and see whether it is oriented toward God. If the right hand is lifted to God, but the left hand is clinging only to things below, then our hands will not be free to embrace the Father. The heart must be directed toward God and for God. That must be our treasure.

Salvation is not the exclusive possession of religious movements, of churches, or of select groups. Salvation is open to all humanity. What matters is to seek God’s will with attitudes of justice, mercy, and solidarity. This is why Jesus urges His listeners to strive to choose the difficult way: the narrow gate of justice. That is what God desires. That is what He asks of us. May we know how to respond to this call.

Your brother in faith,