Faith Beyond Borders
Fourth Sunday in Ordinary Time (C)
Jeremiah 1:4-5,17-19; Psalm 71:1-6,15-17; I Corinthians 12:31-13:13; Luke 4:21-30
“And He won approval of all, and they were astonished by the gracious words that came from His lips.” (Luke 4:22)
A magazine cartoon shows a woman leaving Sunday worship, shaking the pastor’s hand. She says, “That was a wonderful sermon! Imagine how perfect our world would be if everyone thought like us.” While the cartoon may be funny, it also reveals a common temptation: the belief that our way of thinking should be the standard for all others.
In today’s Gospel, we see this attitude on full display. At first, Jesus’ audience is captivated. Luke tells us, “He won the approval of all, and they were astonished by the gracious words that came from His lips” (Luke 4:22). They admired Him, perhaps thinking, “Finally, a preacher who understands us!” But admiration turned to outrage when Jesus challenged their assumptions. His message—that God’s blessings were not just for them but for outsiders, even enemies—was too much to bear. Moments earlier, they were spellbound; now, they were furious. They dragged Him to the edge of a cliff, ready to throw Him off. What caused this drastic change? It wasn’t Jesus’ eloquence but His insistence on a truth they didn’t want to hear: the Lord’s compassion knows no boundaries—it is for everyone.
The Radical Challenge of Love
When Jesus stood to speak, He quoted Isaiah:
“The Spirit of the Lord has been given to Me, for He has anointed Me.
He has sent Me to bring Good News to the poor,
to proclaim liberty to captives and the blind new sight,
to set the downtrodden free,
to proclaim the Lord’s year of favor” (Luke 4:18-19).
At first, His listeners may have thought, “Yes, this is the Messiah we’ve been waiting for!” But then Jesus went further. He reminded them of stories where God blessed outsiders, like the widow in Zarephath and Naaman the Syrian. Suddenly, His words weren’t affirming—they were challenging. Jesus wasn’t just preaching comfort; He was breaking down their sense of superiority. Jesus was reminding them of two of the Old Testament episodes in which God’s prophets had ministered to “foreigners” — people who knew nothing of Israel’s covenant with God, people whom Israel looked upon as their enemy.
This wasn’t the Messiah they had imagined. They expected someone who would liberate them from their oppressors, not someone who would call them to love their oppressors. Imagine how unsettling that message would be today. Consider how hard it is to embrace people who stand on the opposite side of an issue you hold dear or to extend compassion to those who have hurt or betrayed you. Yet, this is the radical love Jesus calls us to:
“Love your enemies; do good to those who hate you.”
“Bless those who curse you; pray for those who mistreat you.”
“Turn the other cheek.”
“Give to everyone who asks of you.”
“Be compassionate as your Father is compassionate.”
This wasn’t just a call to kindness and compassion but a complete reorientation of how they and we view others. Jesus wasn’t asking them to tweak their thinking; He was flipping it upside down. And He’s asking the same of us today.
Faith Beyond Borders in Action
Faith beyond borders doesn’t mean ignoring our differences. Instead, it means refusing to let those differences define who deserves our compassion. It’s about stepping into uncomfortable spaces and proclaiming God’s universal love through our actions. Think of the Good Samaritan, who crossed societal and cultural boundaries to care for a man left for dead. Think of Mother Teresa, who saw the face of Christ in the poorest of the poor. Think of Martin Luther King Jr., who preached love and nonviolence in the face of hatred.
What would it look like for us to embody this kind of faith today? Perhaps it’s extending kindness to a neighbor whose politics clash with your own. Maybe it’s welcoming refugees into your community or advocating for those with no voice. It could be as simple—and as complex as forgiving someone who has wronged you. Each action is a step toward living a faith that refuses to be confined by the borders of comfort or prejudice.
The Danger of Self-Righteousness
The phrase “get off your high horse” dates back to medieval times, when riding tall horses symbolized power and status. Over time, it became a metaphor for arrogance and superiority. It’s a fitting reminder today.
We may not ride literal horses, but we can still find ourselves perched atop judgmental attitudes, looking down on those we see as different. It’s easy to slip into the mindset that our way of thinking is not only right but righteous. Yet scripture tells us: “God does not show favoritism” (Acts 10:34). Jesus calls us to get down from our high horses and see others through His eyes. This means setting aside the pride that blinds us and embracing the humility that allows us to recognize the divine spark in every person.
Barriers to Boundless Faith
So, what keeps us from living out this radical, boundary-breaking faith? Fear is often at the root—fear of change, being wrong or losing something: status, comfort, or control. But Jesus reminds us that “perfect love casts out fear” (1 John 4:18). When we open ourselves to the transformative power of God’s love, we find the strength to break down the barriers that divide us.
Reflect on this: Are there groups of people you struggle to see as deserving of God’s love? Are there situations where your faith feels confined by judgment or fear? This tension between fear and faith is not new. Even in fields as vast as science, there’s a temptation to see ourselves as insignificant, isolated by the enormity of the universe.
A distinguished astronomer once declared, “To an astronomer, man is nothing more than an insignificant dot in an infinite universe.” To which Albert Einstein replied, “I had often felt that way. But then I realize that the insignificant dot who is man is also the astronomer.”
Einstein’s words echo a truth found in Jesus’ teachings: when we humbly acknowledge our smallness before God, we discover our immense worth in His eyes. This paradox runs through the Gospel. Jesus tells us that the last will be first, those who lose their life will save it, and that insignificant dots can be transformed into the most significant ones through God’s love.
A Vision of Boundless Love
If we saw through Jesus’ eyes, our hearts would open to everything good and beautiful. We would see the Church as an instrument of God’s love—a place to witness peace, justice, and brotherhood. Such a vision calls us to radical humility and inclusion. It challenges us to proclaim a Gospel with both words and actions that reflect God’s boundless grace.
Imagine the ripple effect of this kind of faith. When we choose forgiveness over resentment, we live out Jesus’ message. When we welcome the outsider, we embody God’s love. When we set aside our comfort to serve those in need, we proclaim a Gospel that liberates.
A Call to Dismount
Jesus’ listeners wanted a Messiah who would validate their expectations, not challenge them. But faith isn’t about finding comfort in what we know—it’s about stepping into the unknown with trust in God’s plan.
May we get down from our high horses and embrace a faith that knows no borders. May we proclaim to the world that God is with us—not just some of us, but all of us. And may we live in a way that reflects the truth that the same love that moves the stars is the flame that ignites our hearts to transform the world.
