The Gospel today does not soothe us. It searches us.
Jesus speaks words that are unsettling
because they refuse to allow us
to settle for a shallow faith.
“Do not think that I have come to abolish the Law or the Prophets;
I have come not to abolish, but to fulfil.”
This one sentence corrects two opposite errors.
On one side is legalism —
the idea that holiness is about rule-keeping.
On the other is relativism —
the idea that grace means the rules no longer matter.
Jesus rejects both.
He does not discard the law. He deepens it.
He does not lower God’s demands.
He relocates them — from behaviour to the heart.
This is why the Sermon on the Mount is so uncomfortable.
It is not content with what we do. It reaches into why we do it.
It asks not simply: Have you broken the commandment?
But: What is happening inside you?
The first reading from Sirach gives us the foundation for this.
“Before each person
are life and death,
good and evil;
whatever you choose
will be given to you.”
God has made us capable of love, which means capable of refusal.
Freedom is real. Responsibility is real.
Grace does not cancel choice.
It makes it meaningful.
Sirach is very clear: God does not desire our sin.
“He has not commanded anyone to be wicked.”
But neither does God coerce virtue. He invites.
The whole drama of salvation rests on this truth: God wants us, not machines.
This is why Jesus speaks
as he does in the Gospel.
He is not interested
in superficial compliance.
He wants conversion.
“You have heard it said…
but I say to you…”
Jesus takes the commandments
and opens them up
from the inside.
“You shall not kill.”
But anger that dehumanises
already kills.
“You shall not commit adultery.”
But lust that consumes
already betrays.
“You shall not swear falsely.”
But speech that manipulates
already lies.
Jesus is not exaggerating.
He is revealing.
Sin is not primarily an action.
It is a disorder of love.
We break commandments
because something inside us
is already broken.
This is why the Gospel
is not a list of new laws.
It is an invitation to healing.
The second reading from
1 Corinthians
tells us how this healing happens.
Paul speaks of God’s hidden wisdom,
a wisdom not grasped
by the powerful
or the clever.
It is revealed by the Spirit.
We cannot live this Gospel
by self-discipline alone.
We need a new heart.
This is where many Christians struggle.
We hear Jesus’ words
and feel either crushed
or defensive.
Crushed, because we know
how far we fall short.
Defensive, because we want
to minimise what he says.
But Jesus is not condemning.
He is diagnosing.
And the Spirit is the healer.
The Gospel today
is not about moral perfection.
It is about integrity.
Jesus wants a heart
that is undivided.
Anger reconciled.
Desire purified.
Speech made truthful.
This is not about being impressive.
It is about being whole.
The Church takes these teachings seriously
because they are about freedom.
Anger imprisons.
Lust enslaves.
Deceit corrodes.
Jesus names these things
because he wants us free.
Sirach says:
Life and death are before us.
Jesus shows us
where those choices are made —
in the heart.
This is why the Church insists
on confession,
conversion,
and moral truth.
Not because God is strict.
But because God is loving.
A doctor who names illness
is not cruel.
He wants healing.
Jesus does not shame the heart.
He seeks to cleanse it.
The Gospel today also challenges
a comfortable Christianity.
One that keeps appearances
while tolerating resentment.
One that avoids scandal
while indulging fantasy.
One that says the right words
while protecting self-interest.
Jesus will not accept this division.
“Let your yes be yes and your no be no.”
He calls for a life that is integrated.
Sirach told us that God sets before us life and death.
Jesus now shows us where that choice is made.
Not only in the great decisions, but in the daily ones.
How we speak. How we look. How we think.
Grace is not opposed to effort.
But it is prior to it.
We do not change ourselves to earn God’s love.
We receive God’s love so that we can change.
This is the Christian pattern.
Christ fulfils the law by giving us his Spirit.
The Spirit reshapes our desires, heals our wounds, and teaches us to love.
But we must cooperate.
Sirach is right: God does not force goodness. He offers it.
The Sixth Sunday of Ordinary Time asks us not to pretend.
It asks us to be honest.
Where are we angry?
Where are we divided?
Where do our words and our hearts not match?
This is not a call to despair.
It is a call to conversion.
Because God has already given us
everything we need.
The law is fulfilled in Christ.
The Spirit is given.
The path of life
is open.
What remains
is our choice.
And that choice
is made not once,
but every day —
in the hidden places of the heart.
May we choose life.
May we choose truth.
And may the God
who sees the heart
give us the grace
to become what He has called us to be.