God of infinite mercy

Isa 66:18-21, Psalm: 116, Heb 12:5-7.11-13, Lk 13:22-30

My dear sisters and brothers in Christ,

The journey of faith can often feel like a paradox. We are called to a God of infinite mercy, yet we hear of a narrow gate. We are promised a universal salvation, yet we are told that discipline is a sign of His love. Today’s readings present this beautiful, challenging tension, not to frighten us, but to focus us; not to discourage us, but to fill us with hope-filled strength for the path ahead.

The prophet Isaiah gives us a breathtaking vision of the end of time. God declares, “I come to gather nations of every language.” This is not a private salvation for a select few. It is a cosmic plan, an immense, all-embracing divine outreach. God will take outsiders and make them messengers—“I will send them to distant coastlands that have never heard of my fame.” The boundaries are shattered; the chosen people are not a closed club but a launching pad for God’s mercy to the entire world. This is our mission as the Catholic Church: not to be a fortress, but a home for all nations, a sacrament of universal salvation. As Pope Francis reminds us, we must be a Church that “goes forth,” whose doors are open, because God’s heart is open.

But how do we prepare for this universal kingdom? The Letter to the Hebrews answers with a word we often misunderstand: discipline. “My son, do not disdain the discipline of the Lord,” it says. This is not about punishment. This is about training, like an athlete or a musician. A loving father corrects his child not to inflict pain, but to form character, to build strength, to teach right from wrong. God allows trials, challenges, and corrections in our lives not because He is angry, but because He is intent on making us holy. He is strengthening our “drooping hands” and “weak knees” for the long pilgrimage of faith. As the great St. Augustine prayed, “Lord, you give strength to the weary, and you strengthen the weak,” acknowledging that our very struggles are the arena where God’s power is perfected.

This training leads us directly to the Gospel’s sobering question and answer. Someone asks, “Lord, will only a few be saved?” Jesus doesn’t give a number. Instead, he gives a command and a warning: “Strive to enter through the narrow gate.” The Greek word for “strive” is agonizesthe—from which we get “agonize.” It implies a focused, intense, and lifelong effort. The gate is narrow, not because God is stingy, but because salvation has a specific shape: the shape of the Cross. It is the shape of self-denial, of humility, of love that costs something. It is not enough to simply have a vague familiarity with Jesus—“We ate and drank in your company.” Salvation requires a real, personal, and transformative relationship, one that changes how we live.

The most chilling words in all of Scripture might be, “I do not know where you are from.” This is not a failure of God’s memory, but a revelation of a failed relationship. To be known by Christ is to have responded to His grace, to have engaged in the daily discipline of conversion, to have loved in truth and not just in words.

So where is the comfort? It is in the combination of these readings! Our God is not a cruel taskmaster waiting for us to fail. He is a loving Father who disciplines us for the journey. He is a God of universal desire who wants everyone in His feast. And He has already walked the narrow path Himself. Jesus is the narrow gate. He is the one who made Himself small, humbling Himself to the point of death on a Cross, to become the passageway to eternal life.

The struggle is real, but we do not struggle alone. His grace is our training. The sacrifices of daily life—the patience in suffering, the forgiveness of a deep wound, the rejection of a temptation, the faithful fulfillment of our duties—these are the moments that strengthen our spiritual muscles to pass through the gate.

Do not be discouraged by the narrowness. See it as the focused, loving path that leads directly into the arms of our Father, who is gathering nations from the east and the west, and who longs for you to recline at His table in the Kingdom of God. Strive today, not with anxiety, but with the confidence of a child being trained by a Father who loves you too much to let you stay as you are. Amen.