As we heard today’s Gospel, did you notice how Jesus sounded? At first, His words seemed harsh. He condemned three Galilean cities—Chorazin, Bethsaida, and Capernaum. Reading this passage for the first time, we might even wonder, “Lord, why do You sound so angry?” But if we listen more carefully, we realize that Jesus was not condemning them because they committed the worst sins. He condemned them because, despite witnessing many of His greatest miracles, they still refused to repent. They had every opportunity to change, yet they remained the same. They had become so familiar with His presence that they no longer recognized it as a gift.
Jesus then compared these cities to Tyre and Sidon—places that, in the Old Testament, were known for idolatry, pride, and resistance to God. Imagine hearing those words. It must have felt like a slap in the face. The very people they considered far from God would have responded more readily to His grace than they did.
Perhaps that is the message Jesus wants us to hear today. The people of these cities probably felt privileged. They lived close to Jesus. They heard Him preach. They saw His miracles. They had access to Him that many others never had. Maybe they assumed they were already in a good place simply because they were near Him.
Isn’t that something we can relate to? Sometimes, we take things for granted simply because they are always there. Because they are abundant. Because they have become part of our everyday lives. We forget that what has become ordinary for us may be the very thing someone else has been praying for.
There are people who long to receive Holy Communion regularly but cannot. There are those who wish they had quiet moments for prayer but are overwhelmed by work, responsibilities, or illness. There are many who continue searching for meaning, direction, or God’s presence in their lives, while others have countless opportunities to encounter Him.
Yet because these gifts become part of our routine, we slowly stop appreciating them. That is the danger of familiarity. Familiarity is not bad. In fact, it is beautiful because it makes us feel at home. But when familiarity is left unchecked, it slowly becomes complacency. We become so accustomed to God’s blessings that they no longer amaze us. We stop recognizing them as grace and begin treating them as ordinary parts of our schedule.
Think about how enthusiasm often changes over time. At the beginning of our ministry or a commitment we are too excited. We participate wholeheartedly. We are excited to pray, eager to serve, and grateful for every opportunity. Then, little by little, things change. We still participate… but only when it’s convenient. We still pray… but sometimes only with our lips while our minds are somewhere else. We still attend… but our hearts are no longer fully present.
It sounds funny when we put it that way, but if we’re honest, many of us have experienced it. What once filled us with joy slowly becomes routine. What once inspired gratitude begins to feel like another obligation. What once drew us closer to God becomes something we simply check off our daily list. Not because we are bad people, but because we have grown used to grace.
That is exactly what happened in the Gospel. The people did not reject Jesus because they hated Him. They rejected Him because His presence had become ordinary to them. His words no longer challenged them. His miracles no longer moved them. They had become accustomed to the extraordinary. Faith is not merely about being physically present in church, attending religious activities, or knowing the right prayers. Those things are important, but they are not the destination.
Our goal is transformation. Every prayer should soften our hearts. Every Eucharist should deepen our love. Every act of charity should make us more compassionate. Every correction should teach us humility. Every struggle should strengthen our trust in God. Every encounter with His Word should lead us to become more like Christ.
At the end of our lives, God will not ask how many Masses we attended, how many prayers we recited, or how faithfully we followed church teachings. He will ask what those encounters with Him did to our hearts. Did they teach us to love more? Did they make us more forgiving? Did they make us more humble? Did they help us become more like Christ?
Being close to holy things or people is not enough. The people of Chorazin, Bethsaida, and Capernaum were physically close to Jesus, yet many of them remained spiritually distant. The same question for us. We hear God’s Word. We celebrate the Eucharist. We receive countless opportunities to encounter His grace.
But are these encounters still transforming us? Or have we become so familiar with God’s presence that we no longer recognize the gift before us?
Amen.
