Thirteen years ago, we experienced a momentous event in our family. Our first grandchild, Anna Grace, was born--a special occasion in our family’s life. I remember leaving Research Hospital, getting into my car and heading for the shopping center to purchase the frilliest, pinkest outfit that I could find. I was a changed person. I had a new aura about me that surely everyone could see. I recall that I was bursting with the news and wanted to tell everyone in sight that we had a new grandchild. My feelings were a combination of thanksgiving, relief, excitement, joy and humility. I had experienced a life-changing event, and I wanted to share it with everyone I saw. I was sensible enough, however, to know that not everyone wanted to hear about this marvelous change, and so I was selective in sharing this stirring news—I didn’t force my glorious report on those who weren’t receptive, but I was willing to enlighten anyone who showed the slightest interest.

I recalled those feelings when I read the scriptural readings for today. Jeremiah, in our Old Testament reading, is lamenting the opposition that he has met when he has spoken the words that the Lord has given him to speak. And yet, he cannot resist crying out for repentance. When he tries to refrain from sharing the Lord’s words, Jeremiah says that within him there is something like a “burning fire shut up in my bones; I am weary with holding it in, and I cannot.” Jeremiah is speaking of the irresistibility of sharing the word of the Lord. The irresistibility of sharing the word of the Lord.

Jesus tells the disciples in today’s reading from Matthew’s gospel that he is sending them out “like sheep into the midst of wolves; so be wise as serpents and innocent as doves.” He warns that the word of the Lord will not always be welcomed. In fact, they may be persecuted for speaking about Him. But still, Jesus wants them to proclaim His words from the housetops. He wants His words to be irresistible to them, to burn in them until they can no longer hold them in.

Have you ever had an experience that was so important, so world changing, so special that you could not resist telling everyone about it? Have you ever been so filled with the Holy Spirit that you needed to share your feelings with those around you? What I’m really asking is, “Are you overwhelmed with the good news and are you filled with the irresistibility of the word of the Lord?” If you’re not, the good news in today’s reading from Paul’s letter to the Romans should inspire you. For Paul speaks of “the abundance of grace and the free gift of righteousness “that has come to us from “one man’s act of righteousness.” There is no gift that could ever measure up to that one gift that Jesus gave us through his life, death and resurrection. This gift of grace offers us life—it offers us forgiveness in this world and life everlasting. Forgiveness in this world and life everlasting. All other gifts pale in comparison. If you are awed and inspired by this irresistible word of the Lord, what can you do about it? How can you share it? What does God expect of us in response to that gift?

Perhaps associating the sharing of God’s holy words to sharing the experience of becoming a grandparent is a shabby comparison, but I remember that both C.S. Lewis AND Jesus employed practical experiences to explain spiritual meaning. I think we can look at any worldly occurrence of great excitement and awe and use it as a springboard to the understanding of a spiritual experience. Remember Jesus’ words to “be wise as serpents and innocent as doves”? Have you ever been in the presence of a new grandmother armed with an album of baby pictures? Have you ever felt compelled to ooh and awe over sixteen nearly identical shots of a scrawny, bald infant, eyes closed, securely wrapped in a blanket so that only the eyes and nose peek out? If so, then you have encountered a grandparent who is NOT as wise as a serpent. Or have you ever been assaulted by a grandparent who proceeded to describe absolutely every detail of the baby’s birth, then move on to the proper care of a newborn, then on to the poor decisions on childcare that the new parents have made? If so, then you have encountered a grandparent who is NOT as innocent as a dove.

Moving to the spiritual realm, Jesus reminds us that even when we are filled with the irresistibility of sharing the word of the Lord, there are those who will not be receptive. There are also ways of sharing that are more effective than others. Forcing God’s word on others with an air of superiority, of “having all the answers,” is probably not going to convince others of the joy of the peace of the Lord. On the other hand, being afraid to proclaim the gospel because we don’t think we can speak effectively or for fear of offending someone is missing the opportunity of sharing our faith.

Jesus asks us to acknowledge him before others. To me that means that every moment of our lives we must live in the awareness of God’s great gift of grace that we have been granted through the suffering, death and resurrection of our Savior Jesus Christ. Every breath we take, every minute of our earthly existence, every encounter we have, every word that we utter, every experience of our lives give us the opportunity to acknowledge what we believe. By living in response to Christ, we share with others our beliefs and our commitment to our beliefs. Henri Nouwen spoke of living in the awareness of grace: “When we live in communion with God’s Spirit, we can only be witnesses, because wherever we go and whomever we meet, God’s Spirit will manifest itself through us.”

As the years have passed since the birth of our first grandchild, the glow of that first day of her life on earth has stayed with me. She is thirteen years old, and the absolute miracle of her existence and the joy of being part of her life have added to that glow. And then . . . and then . . . I think of the miracle of Christ’s existence and the joy of being part of His life and of Him being part of my life. Then the word of the Lord seems irresistible to me. And I want to proclaim that joy from the housetops—don’t you?