Commentary on Matthew 19:16-22

We have here a story of a young man who did not have that simple trust of the child which Jesus spoke about in the immediately preceding passage (note that only Matthew describes him as ‘young’).

He was apparently a good man, an unusually good man. He asks Jesus what he needs to do in order to have eternal life. However, he seemed to be operating out of a legalistic mindset with the emphasis on external actions. For Jesus, what we are is more important than what we do. The man also asked about “eternal life”. In Matthew (and in Mark and Luke) ‘eternal life’ is really synonymous with ‘entering the Kingdom of Heaven [God]’ and ‘being saved’. It is to be totally taken up into God’s world and sharing God’s understanding of life.

Jesus asks him

Why do you ask me about what is good? There is one who is good.

This seems to be a way of telling the man that goodness is not something merely external. The real source of goodness is inside, although, of course, it will flow out to the exterior. Is it also a way of asking the man who he really thinks Jesus is?

In any case, Jesus tells the man:

If you wish to enter into life, keep the commandments.

As we have just said, to “enter into life” is equivalent to entering the Kingdom. And Jesus mentions just four of the commandments, all touching on relationships with other people. And he adds:

Also, you shall love your neighbor as yourself.

The man is not satisfied:

I have kept all these; what do I still lack?

Jesus tells him that if he wants to be perfect, he should sell off everything he has, give it to the poor and then become a disciple of Jesus.

Obviously, the man was not expecting this. He was very rich and, although he wanted to serve God, he was not prepared to separate himself from the security of his wealth. And he walked away from Jesus full of sadness. It is an example of Jesus’ words earlier on that we cannot at the same time serve God and wealth.

In this context, to be ‘rich’ is not just to have a lot of money. It is to have a lot more money than others and especially to have more money than one needs in a world where there are people who do not have enough for a life of dignity. And wealth is very relative: a person close to the poverty line in some western countries could be seen as very rich in a remote village elsewhere in the world.

So, as long as the man had to cling to his money, he could not—as he claimed—be loving his neighbour as his own self. Clearly he was not yet ready for an unconditional following of Jesus. He was not able to follow the example of Peter and Andrew and James and John, who left their boats, nets and family to go and put all their security with Jesus.

Before we think that this Gospel does not particularly concern us because we do not see ourselves as numbered among the rich, we should listen to what Jesus is really saying. He touched on the one thing that the man was not ready to give up—his money and all that it brought. But, if we are honest, we will admit that we all have some things we would be very slow to let go of. Things we would not like God to ask us to give up.

It might be a good exercise today for us to ask ourselves what would be the most difficult thing for us to give up if Jesus asked us to do so. It might be some thing we own like our house, or it might be a relationship, or our job, or our health. Whatever it is, could it be coming between us and our total following of Jesus? Do the things we own really own us? Why not ask for the strength to be ready, if called on, to give it up? Only then do we know that we are truly free and truly followers of Jesus.

One final point—this story has been used in the past as an example of someone’s getting a special ‘vocation’. According to this view, all are expected to keep the commandments, but only some are invited to follow a ‘counsel’, such as living a life of ‘poverty’, as members of religious institutes do. It would be quite wrong to see Jesus here suggesting two levels of living the Christian life. What is said here applies to every person who wants to follow Christ. All the baptised are called to the same level of service, although there are different ways of doing this.

Rupert Mayer was born on 23 January, 1876, in Stuttgart, Germany. On completing his secondary education he told his father he wanted to be a Jesuit. His father suggested he get ordained first and enter the Jesuits later, if that was still his wish. Rupert took this advice and studied philosophy at Fribourg in Switzerland and Munich. He then studied theology at Tubingen for three years before completing his final year at the seminary in Rottenburg. He was ordained priest on 2 May, 1899 and celebrated his first Mass two days later.

He served for a year as a curate in Spaichingen before entering the Jesuit novitiate at Feldkirch in Austria on 1 Oct, 1900. Following his novitiate, he went to the Netherlands for further studies between 1906 and 1911. He then travelled through Germany, Switzerland and the Netherlands, preaching missions in many parishes.

Rupert’s real apostolate began when he was transferred to Munich in 1912. There he devoted the rest of his 31 years to migrants who came to the city from farms and small towns looking for a job and a place to stay. He was totally committed to their needs – collecting food and clothing, looking for jobs and places for them to live. He also helped them preserve their Christian faith in a city which was rapidly becoming secular.

With the outbreak of the First World War in 1914, Rupert at first offered his services to a camp hospital. But later he was made Field Captain and travelled together with his men to France, Poland and Romania which brought him to the front line of battle. His courage and solidarity with his men became legendary. He was with them in the trenches and stayed with the dying to the very end. His courage was infectious and gave hope to his men in appalling conditions. In December 1915, he was awarded the Iron Cross for bravery, a rare honour for a chaplain. His army career ended abruptly in 1916 when a badly broken leg had to be amputated.

By the time he had fully recovered, the war was over (1918) and Rupert returned to Munich and did all he could to help people get back to a normal life. In November 1921, he became director of a Marian Congregation (Sodality of Our Lady) for men, and within nine years, its membership had grown to 7,000 men coming from 53 different parishes. This meant that Rupert had to give up to 70 talks a month to reach all of them. In 1925, for the convenience of travellers, he introduced Sunday Masses at the main railway station. He himself would celebrate the earliest Masses, beginning at 3:10 AM. In time, it would be said that the whole city of Munich had become his parish.

With huge social problems developing in Germany after World War I, Munich saw the rise of Communist and other social movements. Rupert took a close interest in these. He attended their meetings and even addressed them. His aim was to highlight Christian principles, and to point out the fallacies in other speakers’ ideas which could mislead people. He was one of the first to recognise the dangers of Adolf Hitler and Nazism, and again challenged Nazi policy with Christian principles. It was inevitable that he would come in conflict with the Nazi movement.

When Hitler became chancellor of the Reich in 1933, he began to shut down church-affiliated schools and began a campaign to discredit the religious orders. Preaching in St Michael’s Church in downtown Munich, Rupert denounced these moves. As a very influential voice in the city, the Nazis could not allow him to continue his attacks on them. On 16 May, 1937, the Gestapo ordered Fr Mayer to stop speaking in public places. This he did but continued to preach in church. Two weeks later he was arrested and put in prison for six weeks. At his trial he was found guilty, but given a suspended sentence. He then obeyed his superiors’ orders to remain silent but the Nazis took advantage of this to defame him in public. His superiors then allowed him to preach again in order to defend himself against the Nazis’ slanderous attacks. He was arrested six months later and served his formerly suspended sentence in Landsberg prison for five months. Then a general amnesty made it possible for him to return to Munich and work quietly in small discussion groups.

However, he was still seen as a threat and so was arrested again in November, 1940 on the pretext that he had cooperated in a royalist movement. Now 63 years old, Rupert was sent to the notorious Oranienburg-Sachsenhausen concentration camp near Berlin. After a few months, his health had deteriorated so badly that it was feared he might die in the camp and be seen as a martyr. So he was sent to stay in the Benedictine abbey in Ettal, in the Bavarian Alps. Fr Mayer spent his time there in prayer, leaving his future in the Lord’s hands. He remained in the abbey for almost six years until freed by American forces in May, 1945.

He at once returned to Munich, where he received a hero’s welcome, and took up again his pastoral work at St Michael’s. However, the years in prison and the camp had undermined his health. On 1 Nov, 1945, Rupert was celebrant at the 8 a.m. Mass on the feast of All Saints in St Michael’s. He had just read the Gospel and began preaching on the Christian’s duty to imitate the saints, when he had a stroke and collapsed. Facing the congregation, ”The Lord… the Lord… the Lord…” were his last words. He died shortly afterwards. He was 69 years old. While he was first buried in the Jesuit cemetery at the Jesuit house of studies in Pullach, outside Munich, his remains were later brought back to the city and interred in the crypt of the Burgersaal, the church next to St Michael’s, where the men’s Sodality regularly met.

In 1956, Pope Pius XII, who had personally known Rupert Mayer during his time as papal nuncio in Munich, awarded him the title Servant of God. Under Pope John XXIII, the beatification process was initiated, the results of which were formally accepted by Pope Paul VI in 1971. Under Pope John Paul II, the degree of heroic virtue was issued in 1983. Rupert Mayer was beatified by Pope John Paul II on 3 May 1987 in Munich.

Father Mayer’s grave was visited by Pope John Paul II and Pope Benedict XVI, whose parents had venerated him.

He is remembered for his staunch opposition to Nazi inhumanity and for his selfless dedication in helping the poor.

Rupert Mayer’s favourite prayer:

Lord, let happen whatever you will;
and as you will, so will I walk;
help me only to know your will!
Lord, whenever you will, then is the time;
today and always.
Lord, whatever you will, I wish to accept,
and whatever you will for me is gain;
enough that I belong to you.
Lord, because you will it, it is right;
and because you will it, I have courage.
My heart rests safely in your hands!

Commentary on Matthew 5:13-16

We may be totally filled with the spirit of the Beatitudes, but it will not do very much good unless their effects are clearly seen in our lives. To be a Christian, it is not enough to be good; we must be seen to be so. It is not enough to ‘have a spirituality’ that fills us with a feeling of peace and tranquillity. The spirituality of the gospel is outreaching. We have not only to be disciples of Christ but also need to proclaim him.

In today’s reading from the Sermon on the Mount immediately following the Beatitudes, Jesus presents us with a number of images expressing this. Jesus first says that his followers should be “the salt of the earth”. Salt is an essential ingredient in almost all cooked food (even sweet food) to provide taste. We all know what it is like to have soup that contains no salt; we know how much part salt plays in flavouring mass-produced fast foods.

We are to be like salt; we are to give taste and zest to our environment. We do that through the specific outlook on life which we have and which we invite others to share. At their best, Christians have been very effective in doing this, and have had a great impact on the values of many societies and in bringing about great changes.

To be tasteless salt is to be next to useless. Salt that has lost its taste is fit only to be thrown out. At the same time, in the West we sometimes, too, put some salt on the side of our plate. That salt, however tasty it may be, is still not doing any good unless it is put into the food. And this is an interesting feature of salt, namely, that it blends completely with food and disappears. It cannot be seen, but it can be tasted.

That reminds us that we as Christians, if we are to have the effect of giving taste, must be totally inserted in our societies. We have to resist any temptation, as Christians, to withdraw and separate ourselves from the world. It is a temptation we can easily fall into, and there are many places where the Church is absent nowadays. There is no salt there. For example, in our commercial districts, in our industrial areas, in our entertainment and media centres, where is the visible Christian presence?

Other images used by Jesus today include being the “light of the world” or being “a city built on a hill”. There is no way it can be hidden; it sticks out like a beacon. And what is the point of lighting a candle and then covering it over with a tub? You light a candle to give light so that people can see their way and will not fall. To be baptised and to go into virtual hiding is like lighting and then covering up a candle.

Finally, Jesus gives us the reason for making ourselves so visible—so that people may see our good works. Is it in order that we can bask in their admiration and wonder? No! Rather, it is so that people will be led through us to the God who made them, who loves them and wants to lead them to himself.

It is for us today to reflect on how visible our Christian faith is to others, as individuals, as families, as members of a Christian group, as parishioners and as a diocese. Are there people or places in our area where a Christian witness is for all intents and purposes absent? Can we do anything about that?