A Reflection on Luke 12:32-38
"Do not be afraid any longer, little flock, for your Father is
pleased to give you the kingdom." Jesus opens with this incredible
promise, but then immediately follows with a challenge that cuts right to the
heart of our spiritual lives: "Sell your belongings and give alms. Provide
money bags for yourselves that do not wear out, an inexhaustible treasure in
heaven." Why does He connect these two thoughts? Because He knows
something crucial about us, we become what we love. If our treasure is here,
tangled up in the things of this world, then our hearts will be here too. And
here's the uncomfortable truth: if our hearts are captivated by the pride of
life, the endless pursuit of status, comfort, and worldly approval, we're not
preparing ourselves for heaven. We're preparing ourselves for disappointment,
because heaven is being with God, and if we don't actually desire Him now,
eternity in His presence won't suddenly become appealing.
This is where Jesus gets really direct with us: "For where your treasure
is, there also will your heart be." It's not just poetry; it's a
diagnostic test. What do you think about when your mind wanders? What excites
you, drives you, keeps you scrolling and striving? If we're honest, so much of
our energy goes into building kingdoms that will crumble, polishing images that
don't matter, and chasing pleasures that leave us empty. The world is designed
to fascinate us, to keep us attached, to make us feel like we're missing out if
we're not constantly consuming, achieving, and performing. But here's what the
rosary teaches us, mystery by mystery: there's another way to live. When we
hold those beads and walk with Mary through the Annunciation, we're learning to
say yes to God's will over our own plans. When we meditate on the Cross, we're
confronting the truth that real love requires sacrifice, not selfies. The
rosary detaches us from the world's noise and attaches us to what's eternal.
Jesus then paints this vivid picture: "Gird your loins and light your
lamps and be like servants who await their master's return from a wedding,
ready to open immediately when he comes and knocks." Notice He doesn't say
if He comes, He says when. The Master is coming back, and the question isn't
about His timing; it's about our readiness. But here's what we need to
understand: being ready for Christ's return isn't just about avoiding major
sins or showing up to Mass on Sunday. It's about cultivating an actual
relationship with Him now, learning to love Him now, training our hearts to
desire Him now. If prayer feels like a chore, if thinking about eternity feels
boring, if we'd secretly rather have one more decade of comfortable earthly
life than enter heaven tomorrow, those are warning signs. We can't flip a
switch at the hour of our death and suddenly love Someone we've ignored our
whole lives.
That's why today's scripture is both comforting and challenging. Jesus promises that
when the Master finds us vigilant, He will serve us at His own table, what
incredible love! But vigilance isn't passive waiting; it's active desire. It's
choosing, day after day, to loosen our grip on the world and tighten our hold
on Christ. The rosary is one of our greatest weapons in this battle for our
hearts. Each decade is a small death to distraction, a little practice session
in loving what matters. The Sorrowful Mysteries remind us that this world
nailed Love Himself to a cross; why would we give it our hearts? The Glorious
Mysteries show us what we're made for: resurrection, heaven, eternal joy. So,
let's be honest with ourselves: Do we actually want God, or just His benefits?
Are we learning to love Him now, or are we so enchanted by the pride and
glitter of this passing world that heaven sounds like a boring obligation? The
servants with their lamps lit aren't just waiting, they're longing. And that
longing, that holy desire for God, is what we cultivate every time we pray,
detach from what doesn't matter, and practice treasuring what cannot be lost.
©2025 James Dacey, Jr., OFS
