August 30, 2026
Jeremiah 20:7-9 | Romans 12:1-2 | Matthew 16:21-27
You duped me, O Lord! — Jeremiah 20:7
Our God is a god of surprises. We’ve known that, ever since God chose a wandering shepherd family of Abraham and Sarah to be the founders of our faith. Or when the angel visited Mary with surprising news. Or the Resurrection.
But one of the hardest lessons of discipleship is that sometimes our God of surprises grants us the things we ask for.
Just not in the way that we imagined them.
First, this happens to Jeremiah: his greatest desire, to be faithful to God, makes him hated by his people. He wants to desist from speaking the truth, but he can’t.
We hear his complaint today. After all, Jeremiah was just a youngster when God called him to prophesy, and he objected, “I’m too young!” (1:6), until God famously reminded him: “Before I formed you in the womb I knew you … I appointed you” (1:5). Despite God’s consoling promise, “I am with you and will rescue you” (1:8), Jeremiah was hated by his own people. His message of repentance in the face of the impending destruction by the Babylonians was not a popular one. Telling people the truth had consequences: it left him feeling isolated, despondent, and lonely.
Yet every time Jeremiah tries to desist, his longing for God is “like fire burning in [his] heart,” and he is drawn back to God, echoing today’s Psalmist: “My soul is thirsting for you, O Lord my God.”
You duped me, O Lord!
And yet, my soul clings fast to you.
This happens to St. Peter, too. He is the first to correctly identify who Jesus actually is: the Christ! But Peter doesn’t understand what that means. He thinks the Messiah will bring earthly power, while Jesus tells him that the Messiah will be met by suffering and death: “Get behind me, Satan … You are thinking not as God does, but as human beings do” (Matthew 16:23). Instead of salvation through earthly power, salvation comes through the embrace of the cross and sacrificial love. The deepest longings of Peter’s heart will be met, but not in the way he expects.
“Whoever wishes to come after me must deny himself, take up his cross, and follow me.”
Jesus’ message is not an injunction to endure cruel self-punishments. Nor is it a pollyannish platitude that declares every cruelty a blessing in disguise.
But rather, we should be afraid that God might meet (and exceed) the deepest longings in our heart.
This happened several months ago, when one of the village teenagers underwent a falling out with her gaggle of friends. She yearned to break free from social mores dictated by a slurry of content creators and the stifling sameness of teenage girlpacks. At first, growing into her identity made her unbearably different and alone. It was painful, but also freeing. Several months later, she’s growing her own sense of self, humor, even style — to love herself, which is a blessed and bold thing to do.
The deepest longings of her young heart will be met, but not in the way she imagined.
Lastly, this happens in mission life, too. My frequent prayer is: “Please, Lord, tune my heart according to your will.”
Turns out, I don’t like being tuned to God’s will.
The tuning is quite painful because it requires dying to the false images I hold about myself: that I am a brilliant, compassionate force for good who is changing the world in profound and impactful ways. But most days, I listen to Salvadoran old ladies talk about bad knees. My ego smarts. Like Jeremiah, I complain: “You duped me, O Lord!” Like Peter, I got the answer right, but I don’t understand it.
And yet, when we do take up those crosses and follow Jesus, the false images of ourselves are gently stripped away. God tunes our hearts into soft, pliable things: hearts with freedom to accept my own limited self and to better love a community, which does change the world around me in profound and impactful ways.
That is the hard lesson of discipleship: that our deepest longings will be met — though not in the way we imagine them — by a God of love and mercy, who leads by example, with the gentleness of a lamb, with the embrace of a cross, and with infinite proclivity for surprise.
Thus have I gazed toward you in the sanctuary
to see your power and your glory,
for your kindness is a greater good than life.
Sarah Bueter, who joined the Maryknoll Lay Missioners in 2023, serves in El Salvador, where she lives and works in the rural village of La Ceiba, Chalatenango.
To read other Scripture reflections published by the Maryknoll Office for Global Concerns, click here.
Featured image: A member of a folkloric dance group celebrates the harvest during the annual Corn Festival held at Dulce Nombre de María parish in the department of Chalatenango, El Salvador, where many Maryknoll missioners have served. (Octavio Durán/El Salvador)
