“Eyes fixed on Jesus”: Homily for the 20th Sunday of Ordinary Time

Homily for the twentieth Sunday in Ordinary Time (C).

The word “Jesuit” was first used to mock the early followers of St. Ignatius of Loyola.  These first members of my religious order, the Society of Jesus, were derided for talking so much about Jesus and were given the name “Jesuit,” condescendingly, by those who apparently thought they had something better to talk about.  Those first Jesuits took the criticism as a compliment, and the name stuck.

The letter to the Hebrews tells us to keep our eyes fixed on Jesus, and the Gospel’s hard words make the same point in dramatic fashion.  We’ll return to the Gospel in a minute, but I want to start with the striking passage from Hebrews.  The letter tells us to keep our eyes fixed on Jesus so that we can “persevere in running the race that lies before us.”  Races, by definition, are challenging events.  It is possible to lose a race by giving up, by going off course, by laziness, by getting tripped up on some obstacle.  Hebrews tells us to “rid ourselves of every burden and sin that clings to us.”  Sins are the sort of thing that will slow us down, trip us up, or send us running in the wrong direction.  Running a race usually requires training, and Christianity is no different.  We aren’t born Christians.  Perhaps a century or two ago when our whole society was Christian, it was possible to imagine that we were, that being a Christian was the same thing as being a good citizen or an agreeable person, just going with the flow. That was always an illusion, and it is even more so today when the forces that shape our culture are often hostile or indifferent to Christianity.

And that’s why, to run the race, we need to consciously fix our eyes on Jesus, as Scripture tells us, because the race is a “struggle.”  Fortunately, we aren’t alone in the struggle.  We are surrounded by “so great a cloud of witnesses”—the saints—those who have gone before us who encourage us with their example and help us with their prayers.  Unlike track-and-field races, this race isn’t really a competition; we aren’t trying to beat others to gain a gold or silver medal.  If others lose, we don’t necessarily win, and we should encourage others in their race.  That’s what the letter to the Hebrews is doing, and that’s what the early Jesuits did by talking so much about Jesus, the only sure path to victory.  Keeping in mind the fact that Christianity is a team sport is important because we Christians aren’t immune from a spirit of rivalry that provokes us to try to trip others up.  And if we spend time tripping others up, we aren’t getting any closer to the finish line ourselves.  We might even end up with a career-threatening injury.  This happens even in parishes when we become concerned with turf wars, envious of the attention other people receive, pig-headed about getting our way, or so intent on victory for our clique or faction that we lose sight of the truth.  That’s why it’s important to keep our eye on the captain, Jesus Christ, and not be bogged down by the opinion of others.  His love is what counts, while the judgment of others is often a source of insecurity.

The Lord is a loving but a demanding captain.  Training for the race, as we are, means we are not yet in perfect condition; it means still having to work to get in shape; it means learning from our stumbles and missed directions.  In the sacrament of penance, we have a great help in our Christian training.  We have a coach, so to speak, who will always help us get back on track.  And we need it.  Being a Christian means not just checking a box on a survey, but actually following Jesus in the path that he ran.  As Hebrews says, “he endured the cross” for “the sake of the joy that lay” ahead.  By taking up his cross, Jesus sacrifices everything else for the sake of fidelity to his mission.  And we are called to do the same.  Today’s passage from Hebrews makes reference to the shedding of blood, to martyrdom, to those who imitate Jesus by laying down their own lives for Jesus.  You haven’t done that yet, the letter points out, implying that doing so is not too much to ask.

In fact, we are asked to lay down our lives from the moment we enter the Church.  In today’s Gospel reading, Jesus reminds us of the meaning of the term “baptism.”  “There is a baptism with which I must be baptized,” he says, and he’s talking about his own death.  Baptism is not a Catholic baby shower, a cute family photo op, or a legal formality, like getting a Church social security card; it is participation in the Passion of Jesus.  It means accepting that we must die with him in order to live with him.  And it means that we must live with him.  Baptism is the door to eternal life, but it will not lead to eternal life if we do not complete the race, if we don’t live as followers of Jesus, if we ignore his commands, if we don’t fulfill our obligations as members of the Church, if we follow any captain other than Jesus.

Jesus underscores just how serious this point is in the second part of today’s Gospel reading.  Jesus does not seek division, but he knows that in his time, as in ours, the loyalty he demands will separate us from those who do not follow him.  And we must prefer Jesus to all others, even family members.  Jesus’ words did not sound any easier in his time than they do in ours.  I, as I’m sure you do as well, have family members, friends, people I like, who reject the faith, and it is a temptation to trim just a little bit off from what the Gospel demands in order to bridge that divide.  We tell ourselves, “Well, they don’t go to Mass, but it’s OK.  At least they still believe in God.”  And then, “At least they still believe in something.”  And then, “At least they’re a good person.”  And then, “At least they mean well.”  And soon enough, not only have we lost sight of Jesus, but we aren’t even in the same stadium as he is.  

It is not easy to love those who go astray without straying ourselves, but it is possible.  Jesus loves us, after all, sinners though we are.  He loves us even to the point of shedding his blood.  So how to stay faithful in this struggle?  Well, I guess I’m not that different from those first Jesuits, because my advice is: Jesus, Jesus, and Jesus.  Keep running, keep trying, and keep your “eyes fixed on Jesus, the leader and perfector of faith.”

Readings: Jer 38:4-6, 8-10; Heb 12:1-4; Lk 12:49-53

St. Isaac Jogues Catholic Church

Rapid City, SD

August 17, 2025

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Author: Anthony Lusvardi, SJ

Anthony R. Lusvardi, S.J., teaches sacramental theology at the Pontifical Gregorian University in Rome. He writes on a variety of theological, cultural, and literary topics.

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