"Porous Heart"

M

y dear sisters and brothers in Christ,

Today’s Gospel is startling. Jesus, the Prince of Peace, declares: “I have not come to bring peace, but the sword” (Mt 10:34). These words disturb us—and they are meant to. Jesus is not advocating violence (Cf Jn 18:11—“Put the sword into the sheath; the cup which the Father has given Me, am I not to drink it?”), but referring to a spiritual sword that cuts through illusion—especially the illusion of control, comfort, and self-sufficiency. He is meant to be a “sign of contradiction” (Lk 2:34), one whose words do not wound but awaken—piercing not to harm, but to reveal the truth.

Let me offer three points for reflection, especially in light of philosopher Charles Taylor’s image of the buffered self, and the invitation to live more freely in Christ.

1. Jesus Pierces the Illusion of the Buffered Self

Modern life often trains us to become “buffered selves”—sealed off from mystery, resistant to grace, and closed to anything beyond what we can manage or measure. We cling to self-definition, achievement, and security, believing they will save us. But in doing so, we become less receptive, less prayerful, and less open to God.

Jesus comes to pierce that buffer. His sword is the Word of God, alive and active, able to discern what is merely good from what is truly of God. He calls us to reorient everything—even our most sacred relationships—around Him. Not because He wants to divide, but because He alone is the source of all love, truth, and life. If He is not first, all else falls out of order.

2. To Find Life, Be Like the Sponge: Open, Absorptive, Rooted in Christ

Jesus tells us: “Whoever finds his life will lose it, and whoever loses his life for my sake will find it” (Mt 10:39). This is the paradox of discipleship. Clinging to our lives—trying to define or control them on our own terms—leads not to freedom, but to fear and disconnection. The buffered self is tight, armored, and self-enclosed—unable to receive grace, unable to surrender.

In contrast, St Ignatius of Loyola offers the image of the sponge. The sponge remains itself, yet it is open and absorptive. Placed in water, it soaks in its surroundings. It becomes filled with what is around it, without losing its form. So too, the soul that is grounded in Christ can absorb God’s will, love, and the needs of others without losing itself. In fact, it becomes more truly itself.

To “lose our lives” for Christ means to let go of what hardens us, and to become like the sponge—porous, receptive, and deeply rooted in our identity as beloved of God. This is not weakness but holy adaptability. It is strength born of surrender, trust, and freedom.

3. The Porous Heart Sees Grace in the Smallest Acts of Love

Jesus closes His teaching not with drama but with simplicity: “Whoever gives even a cup of cold water to one of these little ones... will surely not lose his reward” (Mt 10:42).

Here lies the essence of the porous heart: a heart attentive to the small, the hidden, the easily overlooked. The porous heart does not seek recognition but remains quietly available to grace. Like the sponge, it absorbs divine presence from the present moment.

Even a small gesture—a cup of cold water—can become a holy act, rich with God’s love. The buffered self often overlooks these moments, looking instead for results or recognition. But the sponge-like self lives in reverence, knowing that nothing is too small for God.

The porous life is one of communion, not performance; a life where nothing is wasted and everything is received—not by force, but with open hands. It is not a life of perfection, but of surrender and trust.

And in that trust, Jesus assures us: not even the smallest act done in love will be forgotten. Amen. Fr JM Manzano SJ