There is a familiar ache behind the young man’s question: “What good must I do to gain eternal life?” (Mt 19:16). It is the ache of people who keep their promises, pay their bills, meet deadlines, and still feel a hollow place where joy should be. The Scriptures today place that ache in dialogue with God’s steadfast love and our wandering hearts: Israel’s cycle of devotion and relapse (Jgs 2:11-19), the psalmist’s plea for mercy amid forgetfulness (Ps 106), the Beatitude that names the poor in spirit as truly blessed (Mt 5:3), and Jesus’ invitation that turns from boxes checked to a Person followed (Mt 19:16-22).
When Keeping the Rules Is Not the Same as Finding Life
The young man in Matthew has a strong résumé of virtue. He knows the commandments and keeps them: do not kill, do not commit adultery, do not steal, honor father and mother, love your neighbor (Mt 19:18-19). Yet he senses a lack. Jesus does not dismiss the commandments; he affirms them as the door to life. But then he opens a further door: “If you wish to be perfect, go, sell what you have and give to the poor… then come, follow me” (Mt 19:21).
St. Irenaeus helps us hear the shift. Against spiritual shortcuts and secret knowledge, he insisted that God’s plan is one coherent story—Old and New Testaments in harmony—and that the goal is humanity “recapitulated” in Christ: made whole, mature, fully alive in him. “The glory of God is man fully alive,” he wrote; “and the life of man consists in the vision of God.” The commandments train our hands; following Christ trains our heart, so that our life opens into God’s life. The young man had learned to avoid harm; Jesus invites him into self-giving love that heals.
Old Idols, New Names
Judges portrays a tragic rhythm: God rescues; the people rejoice; then, slowly, they “mingle with the nations” and “learn their works,” serving idols that ensnare them (Jgs 2:11-19; Ps 106:34-37). The idols of Canaan had names; ours often hide in plain sight. Productivity that promises worth. Curated images that promise belonging. Investments that promise immunity from fear. Even good things—career, family goals, health, reputation—become cruel masters when they occupy the throne of the heart.
St. Jerome, who knew the tug-of-war between classical brilliance and Christian holiness, warned that our loves determine our lives. His fierce commitment to Scripture—“Ignorance of Scripture is ignorance of Christ”—was not an academic slogan; it was a survival strategy. Immersed in the Word, we learn to spot counterfeits. The psalmist models the prayer that keeps us anchored: “Remember us, O Lord, as you favor your people” (Ps 106:4). When the world disciples us toward envy and endless upgrade, Scripture re-disciples us toward truth, gratitude, and mercy.
Blessed Are the Unclenched
“Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven” (Mt 5:3). Poverty of spirit is not self-hatred; it is the freedom of an unclenched soul. Jesus does not romanticize misery; he offers the happiness of those who no longer need to possess in order to be at peace. For some, that freedom takes the form of literal dispossession. For most, it means concrete simplicity, sacrificial generosity, and the daily reordering of loves.
Jerome’s ascetic instinct presses a hard but healing question: When the Lord asks for what I clutch, do I walk away sad (Mt 19:22), or do I trust that “treasure in heaven” is not a vague reward but a new way of living now—lighter, clearer, more available to God and neighbor? Irenaeus keeps us balanced: creation is good, and goods are good when ordered to love. Wealth becomes luminous when it moves—toward the poor, toward the common good, toward the Eucharistic table where rich and poor receive the same Bread.
From Compliance to Communion
The young man asked for a task list; Jesus offered companionship: “Come, follow me” (Mt 19:21). St. Ignatius of Antioch, walking toward martyrdom, called the Eucharist “the medicine of immortality,” because it unites us to the living Christ and to each other. For Ignatius, a life rightly ordered is not a solo project; it is ecclesial—rooted in the bishop, the presbyters, the deacons, gathered at the altar, learning unity by sharing one Bread.
Many people today know the fatigue of doing everything “right” and still feeling alone. The Church’s life—Sunday to Sunday, small groups, confession lines, shared service—interrupts the isolating power of our idols. Where we tend to hoard, the Eucharist trains us to receive; where we curate an image, the confessional trains us to tell the truth; where we chase novelty, the liturgy trains us to endure love’s steady rhythms.
Practicing a Different Freedom
If the Judges cycle shows us relapse after rescue, then wisdom means building habits that keep us close to the Deliverer. Consider:
- A weekly “almsgiving budget”: treat generosity as a non-negotiable bill of love (Mt 19:21; Ps 106:44).
- A small, specific simplicity: one recurring expense (subscription, upgrade habit, fashion churn) you surrender as an act of praise.
- A Scripture rule of life: read the Gospel of the day before screens; let Jerome tutor your love of the Word.
- A relationship audit: name one conversation you need to have—the apology, the boundary, the forgiveness—and schedule it.
- Eucharistic priority: even when travel or stress intrudes, plan around Sunday Mass; add a weekday Mass this week if possible. Let Ignatius’s “medicine of immortality” treat the low-grade fevers of fear and control.
A Note on Today’s Optional Memorial
In some calendars today also recalls St. Helena, the mother of Constantine, remembered for her tireless search for the places of the Lord’s passion and for her generosity to the poor. Her life is a living commentary on Jesus’ promise: treasure in heaven grows where love gives itself away. If her memory is kept where you live, ask her intercession for a faith that seeks, finds, and then builds concretely for others.
“Remember Us, O Lord”
Israel’s history, the young man’s sadness, and our own compromises all meet in this mercy: “Yet he had regard for their affliction when he heard their cry” (Ps 106:44). The God who took pity on Israel (Jgs 2:18) stands before us in Jesus and says, “Follow me” (Mt 19:21). St. Irenaeus assures us that Christ does not merely command; he re-creates. St. Jerome urges us into the Scriptures where that re-creation is revealed. St. Ignatius points us to the Eucharist where it is given.
Blessed are the unclenched. Blessed are the poor in spirit. Today, let’s trade the weight of possessing for the lightness of belonging—to the Father who remembers, to the Son who calls, to the Spirit who frees. And let’s take one concrete step so that, unlike the young man, we do not go away sad (Mt 19:22), but rise and go with him into life. References: Judges 2:11-19; Psalm 106; Matthew 5:3; Matthew 19:16-22.