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Twentieth Sunday in Ordinary Time

August 17, 2025

Today’s Invitation

Today we invite you to explore the idea of ‘peace’ and the reality of Jesus’s work; engage our own fear in the face of Christ’s call; and embody the disruption of false peace with the help of the Catonsville Nine, and the artwork of Keith Haring.


Twentieth Sunday in Ordinary Time


Reading 1

Jeremiah 38:4-6, 8-10

The officials said to the ruler, “The prophet
must be put to death. His words are
demoralizing the soldiers left in the city, as
well as the populace. He is seeking not what
is best for them, but what is worst.”
“Do as you wish,” Zedekiah answered, “I
cannot do anything to stop you.”
So they took Jeremiah and put him into the
cistern in the courtyard of the guard, letting
him down with ropes. The cistern held no
water, only mud, and Jeremiah sank into
the mud.

But when Ebed-melech the Ethiopian, a
eunuch in the ruler’s house, learned that
Jeremiah had been imprisoned in the cistern,
he went to the ruler, who was sitting at the
Benjamin Gate. “Your Majesty,” he said,
“these officials are acting viciously in their
treatment of Jeremiah. They threw him into a
cistern where he will starve to death, for there
is no more bread in the city.”
The ruler instructed Ebed-melech the
Ethiopian to take thirty attendants and pull
him out of the cistern before he died.

Responsorial Psalm

Psalm 40

Response: O God, come to my aid.

I have waited and waited for You, Adonai!
Now at last You have stooped to me.
R: O God, come to my aid.

You heard my cry for help. / You have pulled me out of the horrible pit.
R: O God, come to my aid.

Adonai, You have put a new song in my mouth, / a song of praise.
Many will look on in awe / and will put their trust in God.
R: O God, come to my aid.

To me, afflicted and poor, / come quickly.
My helper, my savior, my God, / come and do not delay.
R: O God, come to my aid.

Reading 2

Hebrews 12:1-4

Therefore, since such a great cloud of
witnesses surrounds us, let us lay aside
everything that impedes us and the sin that
so easily entangles us. Let us run with
perseverance the race laid out for us. Let us
not lose sight of Jesus, who leads us in our
faith and brings it to perfection.

For the sake of the joy to come, Jesus
endured the cross, heedless of its shame, and
now sits at the right of God’s throne. Think
of Jesus — who endured such opposition
from sinners — so that you will not grow
weary and lose heart. In your struggles
against sin, you have not resisted to the
point of shedding your blood.

Gospel

Luke 12:49-53

Jesus said to the disciples: “I have come to
light a fire on the earth. How I wish the
blaze were ignited already! There is a
baptism I must still receive, and how great is
my distress until it is accomplished! Do you
think I am here to bring peace on earth? I
tell you, the opposite is true: I have come to
bring division. From now on a household of
five will be divided — three against two and
two against three, father against son, son
against father, mother against daughter,
daughter against mother, mother-in-law
against daughter-in-law, daughter-in-law
against mother-in-law.”


The Inclusive Lectionary © 2022 FutureChurch. All rights reserved. 

The inclusive language psalms:
Leach, Maureen, O.S.F. and Schreck, Nancy, O.S.F., Psalms Anew: A Non-sexist Edition
(Dubuque, IA: The Sisters of St. Francis, 1984).
Used with permission.

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Explore

The Idea of “Peace”


Many people, myself included, find today’s Gospel challenging. The Prince of Peace saying that he’s coming to bring “division” (or “the sword,” to use another popular translation)? Father against son, mother against daughter? It clangs against the loving, nonviolent faith that I profess, and the image of Jesus as the one who heals and reconciles. It’s not a passage that lends itself to quick and easy reflections.

But that is exactly the point: Jesus’s words are meant to challenge us, just as the prophet Jeremiah’s words challenge King Zedekiah in the first reading. More than that, this passage contains a vital lesson for Christians engaged in the work of peace and justice.

Jesus isn’t calling his disciples to violence, but rather warning them that if they follow the Gospels they will inevitably face persecution. God’s way is radical, and it threatens the established systems of power. Note in the first reading the primary charge leveled against Jeremiah the prophet: “he is demoralizing the soldiers who are left in this city” (Jer 38:4). His accusers don’t seek to refute his calls to repentance and reform; their concern is that his words weaken their position of secular strength.

“While Jesus proclaimed peace, he was frequently embroiled in conflict,” wrote Jesuit author and educator Dean Brackley in his 2004 book The Call to Discernment in Troubled Times. “The good news sparked division…He insisted on unmasking bad-news doctrines and practices that twisted the truth of divine mercy and human dignity.” This unmasking is a threat to worldly power’s self-justification, the “cover-up” (as Brackley calls it) that presents the current order as good and rational while hiding the suffering necessary for its existence. Power, of course, only knows one way to deal with threats: trivialize, crush, and erase them. Jeremiah ends up (briefly) in a muddy cistern; Jesus ends up on the cross.

When he says he has not come to bring peace, Jesus is rejecting the false, comfortable peace of the status quo: the peace of going along to get along, of minding your own business and not making waves. In his 1961 speech “Love, Law, and Civil Disobedience,” Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., called this negative peace. “We have never had peace in Montgomery, Alabama, we have never had peace in the South. We have had a negative peace, which is merely the absence of tension; we’ve had a negative peace in which the Negro patiently accepted his situation and his plight…True peace is not merely the absence of tension, but it is the presence of justice and brotherhood.”

This is the peace that Christ preaches. Not the comfortable, easy peace of complicity with structures of power, but a true peace rooted in love and justice. Christ’s peace demands much of us and will, inevitably, lead to some friction – maybe even with family and friends. Jesus doesn’t want us under any illusions: following him will come at a cost. To quote the great Jesuit peace activist and poet Daniel Berrigan: “If you want to follow Jesus, you better look good on wood.”

John Dougherty


John Dougherty is a Catholic writer, high school campus minister, and dad based in the Philadelphia area. He writes the weekly Catholic Movie Club column for America Magazine. Follow John’s writing at johndocwrites.com or on Instagram @johndocwrites.
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Engage Catholic Social Teaching

Peace and Justice

Jesus’s warning about persecution isn’t meant to scare us off, but to make sure we enter into our relationship with him with clear eyes and free hearts. Over the course of Church history, many have answered Christ’s call, living the Gospel boldly even when it resulted in rejection or persecution from worldly powers. A direct line runs from the martyrdom of early Roman Christians who refused to sacrifice to pagan gods, to the 2016 murder of Catholic-raised Honduran environmental activist Berta Cáceres.

In his seminal 1973 address “Men and Women For Others,” Fr. Pedro Arrupe, 28th Superior General of the Society of Jesus, said that today Christians must have “an attitude not simply of refusal but of counterattack against injustice; a decision to work with others toward the dismantling of unjust social structures so that the weak, the oppressed, the marginalized of this world may be set free.” Our faith, in other words, demands action.

This action will provoke a response, especially when it disrupts the “negative peace” that allows our sinful social structures to flourish and perpetuate. It’s not easy to do or say things that might get a negative reaction. Speaking for myself, I am often tempted to stay silent, to keep my faith and convictions private, because it would be much easier.

But the social teaching of the Church reminds us that we must be bold in living out the call of the Gospel, even when it’s challenging. The prophets, Christ, and the disciples stand as examples, but I’m sure we can all think of personal examples as well: ordinary people who model God’s peace, justice, and mercy with courage and authenticity.

It’s meaningful that Jesus cites divisions among family members in the Gospel. It’s unlikely that a ruler will order us tossed into a cistern, as Zedekiah does to Jeremiah. Instead, most of the direct challenges we’ll face when living the Gospel will come from those closest to us. Maybe it’s the parent who asks, “But how are you going to make a living doing that?” or the friends who roll their eyes when you try to make a radical commitment to sustainability. Not all of those people are ill-intentioned: in many cases, they are expressing their love and concern for us. But it is love and concern hemmed in by the assumptions and fears of the world, suspicious of the wild, expansive possibilities of God.

For many of us, the fear of disappointing or alienating our family and friends might be more intimidating than going to an advocacy meeting or facing down a wall of police in riot gear. But that is a fear that we need to overcome in order to truly follow Christ’s call. As always, we must overcome fear with love: I’m not advocating for causing havoc at the dinner table or cutting your siblings out of your life because of their politics. But we should continue speaking up for what’s right – standing in solidarity with Christ’s poor – even though it may lead to some awkward conversations at the holidays. The goal, in my mind, isn’t to win arguments but to convert through example and witness, and to keep loving even when those efforts are rejected.

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