Mark 9:30-37; 25th Sunday in Ordinary Time

I vibered kuya the other day and asked, “Kuyz, as family court judge, what are the top three reasons why families fight over inheritance?” “One,” he replied, “the sense of entitlement where heirs claim to need or deserve more because the others are already well-off on their own. Two, distrust; especially against the administrator or executor of the will. Three, greed.” Kuya’s top three match with what I’ve been privy to; like, when a sibling demands more as compensation for ending up as the parent’s caregiver; and when in-laws get involved and make sulsol for more; and when the already wealthy siblings demand equal shares even when the other siblings are poor and struggling; and finally, when family sues family, which is often the final nail in the coffin.

“The Son of Man is to be handed over to men and they will kill him, and three days after, he will rise.” Imagine Jesus’ anxiety when he said that, mixed with anger, frustration, and yes, fear. Only to find out that his friends, of all people, were arguing over, of all things, who would replace him as “the greatest!” We have a Tagalog expression for this (morbid alert): hindi pa nga lumalamig ang bangkay, pinag-aawayan na ang mamanahin.

To check his friends’ ambition, Jesus takes a child and says, “Whoever receives this child in my name receives me and the one who sent me.” Across time and across cultures, a child is both gift and responsibility. So, with a child in his arms, Jesus impresses on his friends that their faith in and friendship with him is very much like that: gift and responsibility. They were privileged to have been called friends of Jesus. But they were to also protect it, grow it, deepen it, share it, defend it, if need be, and live it out for the good and only the good. Not compete for it, grab at it, or feud over it for personal gain and self-glorification.

In other words, the squabble over mana that threatens to tear families apart today, Jesus had to deal with, too, with his friends. In both cases, there’s forgetfulness of the one important thing that should humble rather than entitle, the one consideration that should unite rather than divide, namely: that whatever is entrusted to us by people who love us is gift. That gift is inextricably united with the giver and the giver’s intention. Because of this, the gift is also a responsibility. We protect it, grow it, deepen it, share it, fight for it (not fight over it), and use it for the good and only the good.

Sisters and brothers, I was thinking, how would I have turned out if I didn’t “inherit” the Faith from mom and dad? If I grew up in a family that was unplugged from God or Jesus or prayer or values, I wonder how I would’ve turned out. Ever think about that? But thanks to our faith in God that you and I inherited from our parents and elders, we see the meaning and depth, the lights and shadows of life, and we feel hope and have hope. Our reason for living is not just ourselves but what is greater than ourselves. Which was why we put inestimable value on friendship and family. Because of our Faith, we have learned how to order our affections, how to apologize and to forgive, how to love, whom to love, and why to love at all. But our inheritance is also our responsibility. We do our turn to protect and grow our faith, to deepen it and share it, to defend it and use it for the good.

So, what happened to the radicalized leaders of Israel, Hamas, Hezbollah? All believers. All fighting for the Faith they inherited from of old. All children of God but drawing blood in the name of Yahweh and Allah. Has the gift turned into a curse? But we, Christians, cannot talk too loudly ourselves. We’ve also had our own brand of toxic zealotry. Religious bigotry, sexism, and clericalism have harmed others and “in Jesus’ name.” So, that path down where any good thing turns from gift to curse, whether mana from parents or religious Faith from God—that path is graveled by greed, entitlement, power politics, and corporate egos.

Jesus would rather suffer  and die than flinch from proclaiming God as a God who loved people more than purity rules. This heroism teaches that we can, may, and sometimes have to suffer and die a thousand deaths for something or someone we greatly value. “Die for,” yes, not kill. How many significant relationships have been killed over something given out of love. A gift truly valued must be life-giving and unifying. Rather than leading us astray, it must bring us back to a place of gratitude, joyfulness, and that very human impulse to repay goodness for goodness. Pretty much like when we go, “O, what will you say?” and “O, smile!” & “O, ‘di mo mauubos ‘yan. Share what you have,” when we give a present to a child.

*image from the Internet