Children, the Cross, and the Love That Comes First- Thirteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time

We live in a culture that often calls selfishness freedom. Nowhere is that more obvious than in the way children are often described: as burdens, obstacles, interruptions, or threats to self-fulfillment. We are told that having children will prevent us from pursuing our dreams or keep us from being happy.

That is not how Scripture speaks.

In the reading from 2 Kings, Elisha wants to repay the kindness shown to him by a woman and her husband. He asks what can be done for her, and his servant points out that she has no son. Today, many would probably see childlessness as freedom. But Elisha sees something very different. He promises her that she will conceive and bear a son.

This matters for more than one reason.

First, in the ancient world, children were not only loved. They were also protection. Property and family security usually passed through men. A woman’s support system was first her father, then her husband, and then her sons. If her husband died and she had no son to defend her place in the family, she could become extremely vulnerable. This is part of the reason levirate marriage existed in the Old Testament, where a man would marry his brother’s childless widow so that his brother’s name and household would not disappear.

So when Elisha promises this woman a son, he is not offering her an inconvenience. He is promising her joy, protection, continuity, and hope.

Children are always more than economic security, of course. They are human persons, made in the image of God, able to love and be loved. But Scripture helps us see what our culture often forgets: children are a blessing, not a burden.

And yet, in the Gospel, Jesus says something that would have shocked his hearers: “Whoever loves father or mother more than me is not worthy of me, and whoever loves son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me.”

These were the deepest and most sacred human bonds in the ancient world. The commandment to honor father and mother stands as a kind of bridge between love of God and love of neighbor. It teaches us that family love is holy. It is not something small or disposable.

But Jesus places himself above even these holy loves.

That is an astonishing claim. Jesus is not rejecting the Fourth Commandment. He is revealing its proper order. We must love our parents. We must love our children. We must honor the family. But we cannot love even the greatest gifts of God more than God himself.

This is also a quiet but powerful claim about who Jesus is. He does not merely say, “Love God more than your family.” He says, “Love me more.” He places love of himself where only love of God belongs.

Then he goes even further: “Whoever does not take up his cross and follow after me is not worthy of me.”

For us, the cross is a religious symbol. We see it in churches, on rosaries, and around people’s necks. But for the apostles, the cross meant torture, shame, and death. Jesus is telling them that discipleship is not sentimental. It is not simply admiring him from a safe distance. To follow him means surrender. It means dying to sin. It means loving him no matter the cost.

That is what Saint Paul teaches in Romans. In baptism, we are baptized into the death of Christ. We die with him so that we may also rise with him. Death no longer has dominion over him, and so sin must no longer have dominion over us. We are called to be dead to sin and alive for God in Christ Jesus.

But this is not cold obedience. Jesus does not ask for servile fear. He asks for love. The same love that makes family precious must be lifted higher and offered first to God. “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your mind.”

And Jesus promises that this love will not be forgotten.

Whoever receives his disciples receives him. Whoever gives even a cup of cold water to one of his little ones will not lose his reward. When we love those who belong to Christ, we love Christ himself. When we serve them, we serve him.

So yes, children are a blessing. Family is holy. The love between parents and children is one of the deepest signs of God’s goodness in this world.

But even that love must lead us back to God.

He is our shield. He is our king. He is the one from whom every good gift comes. And if we love him first, we do not love our families less. We learn to love them rightly, as gifts entrusted to us by the Lord whose goodness we will sing forever.

Thirteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time