Brothers and sisters in Christ,
Who are the wise and the learned? And who are the little ones?
At first, Jesus' prayer sounds almost surprising. He says, “Father, Lord of heaven and earth, I give you praise, because although you have hidden these things from the wise and the learned, you have revealed them to little ones.” Immediately we ask ourselves: Is Jesus against education? Against intelligence? Against success? Certainly not. The Church herself has given the world some of its greatest thinkers, saints, and scholars. The question, then, is not how intelligent we are, but what kind of heart we bring before God.
When Matthew wrote his Gospel, many religious leaders sincerely believed that because they knew the Law, they already knew God. Their learning was a great gift, but it slowly became self-sufficiency. They spoke about God, yet many failed to recognize Him standing before them in Jesus Christ. At the same time, fishermen, tax collectors, women, children, the poor, and sinners welcomed Jesus with joy because they knew they needed Him. They had no illusions about their own strength.
Matthew calls them νήπιοι (NAY-pee-oy)—literally, “little children” or “infants.” A little child survives only because everything is received. Life is received. Food is received. Love is received. Spiritually, God's little ones are those who recognize that they cannot save themselves. They come before God with empty hands, ready to receive His grace. They know that holiness is not something they achieve by their own effort but something God gradually forms within them.
This is why Jesus begins by praising His Father. Before anyone comes to Christ, the Father has already begun drawing that person. Salvation always begins with God's initiative. Then Jesus makes one of the most extraordinary statements in the Gospel: “No one knows the Father except the Son and anyone to whom the Son wishes to reveal Him.” Throughout the Old Testament, God revealed Himself through the patriarchs, Moses, and the prophets. But now the fullness of God's self-revelation comes through His only Son. Jesus is not merely another teacher leading us toward God; He alone knows the Father perfectly because He is the eternal Son. He became man so that through Him we might come to know the Father and become His children.
What is even more beautiful is that Jesus Himself is the perfect example of God's little one. In His humanity, He receives everything from the Father. He seeks only the Father's will. He trusts completely. He obeys completely. He never seeks His own glory but always the Father's. The eternal Son became man not only to reveal the Father but also to show us what true sonship looks like. That is why He alone can say, “Learn from me.”
Even the greatest saints understood this. St. Thomas Aquinas was one of the most brilliant minds in Christian history. His theological writings continue to guide the Church after more than seven centuries. Yet after a profound mystical experience near the end of his life, he put down his pen and remarked that everything he had written seemed “like straw” compared with what God had revealed to him. The more deeply he knew God, the more deeply he realized that everything was gift. His greatness lay not only in his intelligence but in becoming one of God's little ones.
Once we understand who the little ones are, Jesus' next words suddenly make perfect sense: “Come to me, all you who labor and are burdened, and I will give you rest.”
Think of a husband who stood before God on his wedding day and promised to love his wife faithfully for the rest of his life. Years later, work becomes overwhelming. Financial pressure grows. Communication at home slowly disappears. Instead of bringing his worries to God, he begins escaping into alcohol, gambling, and pornography. His temper becomes shorter. One evening he loses control and shouts at his wife in front of their children. The room becomes silent. His little daughter quietly begins to cry. Later that night, he sits alone in the garage with tears in his eyes and whispers, “Lord, I don't know what's happening to me anymore. I don't want to become this man.”
My brothers and sisters, that man is carrying a burden too heavy for himself. Perhaps his struggle is not yours. But maybe yours is different. Perhaps you have fought the same temptation for years. Perhaps your marriage is breaking apart. Perhaps you carry wounds that no one else knows. Perhaps anger has become stronger than your patience, money more important than your family, pleasure more attractive than fidelity, or resentment more familiar than forgiveness. You have prayed, failed, begun again, and sometimes wondered whether you will ever change.
What makes the difference is not that these struggles suddenly disappear. The difference comes when, instead of relying only on ourselves, we finally say, “Jesus, I cannot save myself. Please help me.” At that moment we begin to live as God's little ones. We stop trusting our own strength and begin trusting His mercy.
Jesus does not promise a life without suffering. He promises something much deeper: “I will give you rest.” This is not merely physical rest or freedom from problems. It is the peace of knowing that we no longer carry our burdens alone. Then Jesus says something that seems almost surprising: “Take my yoke upon you.” Every human being carries a yoke. Some carry the yoke of pride. Others carry the yoke of addiction, greed, anger, fear, lust, or the endless need to prove themselves. Jesus does not leave us without a yoke; He exchanges the yoke that crushes us for the yoke that gives life. His yoke is light because He carries it with us.
Then Jesus reveals the secret of His entire life: “Learn from me, for I am πραΰς (prah-OOS) and humble of heart.” Meekness is not weakness. It is strength completely surrendered to the Father's will. Jesus possessed all authority, yet He never dominated, manipulated, or sought His own glory. His human heart was entirely open to the Father. That meek and humble heart became the visible face of God's love in our world.
Can we really live like that? If it depended only on our determination, probably not. We know our own hearts too well. We promise to be patient, yet lose our temper. We promise to forgive, yet cling to resentment. We promise to remain faithful, yet fall into temptation again. Alone, we cannot become the people Christ calls us to be.
That is why today's second reading gives us such hope. St. Paul speaks not simply of the Holy Spirit but of “the Spirit of Christ.” “Whoever does not have the Spirit of Christ does not belong to Him.” The Christian life is not simply trying harder. It is allowing the very life of Christ to grow within us. The same Spirit who raised Jesus from the dead now lives in those who believe. Day by day, He weakens the desires of the flesh and strengthens the desires of Christ. He teaches an angry husband to become gentle again. He gives hope to the person battling addiction. He strengthens the wife who continues to love when loving has become difficult. He helps the young person choose purity over temptation, honesty over deception, generosity over greed, forgiveness over revenge. The transformation is often slow, but it is real because it is God's work before it is ours.
My brothers and sisters, today's Gospel does not ask whether we are successful or unsuccessful, educated or uneducated, wealthy or poor. It asks whether we are willing to become God's little ones. The Father is drawing us to His Son. The Son is revealing the Father's love to us. The Spirit of Christ is ready to transform us into a new creation. Therefore, let us come to Jesus with our failures, our fears, our addictions, our wounded relationships, and every burden we have tried to carry alone. Let us learn from His meek and humble heart. And let us allow the Spirit of Christ to make us what we could never become by ourselves: God's little ones, living already with the peace, freedom, and joy of His Kingdom. Amen.
Anh chị em thân mến,
Ai là những người khôn ngoan và thông thái? Và ai là những kẻ bé mọn?
Thoạt nghe lời cầu nguyện của Chúa Giêsu trong Tin Mừng hôm nay, chúng ta có thể cảm thấy ngạc nhiên. Người thưa với Chúa Cha: “Lạy Cha là Chúa Tể trời đất, con xin ngợi khen Cha, vì Cha đã giấu không cho những bậc khôn ngoan thông thái biết những điều này, nhưng lại mặc khải cho những kẻ bé mọn.”
Lập tức, chúng ta tự hỏi: Phải chăng Chúa Giêsu chống lại