If you look up the origins of the word “humility,” you will find that it is related to humus, dirt or earth. Gardeners and farmers know that it is a particularly rich kind of soil, composed by the decay of leaves and other organic material that has fallen on it. Too often we misunderstand it to mean not accepting compliments, relentlessly putting ourselves down, failing to accept our gifts in a positive way. None of this carries with it the meaning of being grounded in reality. Both our limits and our abilities, our grace and even our sin fall upon our lives to enrich us. In their different ways, Sirach and Jesus tell us to accept our lives, to be aware of who we are. Rather than presuming we deserve a higher-up place at the table, we ought to wait to be called to our rightful place, to be blessed with the joy of the righteous.

The term “fair-weather friend” might need a technological-era updating. Perhaps “short attention span friend” would work. In our world of multiple communication platforms, it somehow has become increasingly easy to lose track of friends. We shouldn't be surprised when we reach out and they've moved on due to our indifference. The God who is love and whose covenant is one-hundred percent about relationship is depicted in the same way by Jesus today.

Tomorrow is the Solemnity of the Assumption. Mary stands with the “great cloud of witnesses” described in Hebrews: those who kept their eyes firmly fixed on Jesus. We may not be thinking of Mary when we hear Jesus’ harsh words in today’s Gospel, but when she said “yes” to Gabriel, it carried the risk of the rejection and division that Jesus describes. As the early Christians surely knew, to hold Jesus as the sole leader and perfecter of faith meant that you would likely find yourself divided from those in your household who held other beliefs.