Behind the Scenes

 

Sunday, 28 June, 2026

From the First Reading of the Thirteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year A (2 Kings 4:8–16)

"One day Elisha went on to Shunem, where a wealthy woman lived, who urged him to eat some food. So whenever he passed that way, he would turn in there to eat food." (2 Kings 4:8)

This verse opens today's first reading. We hear of a wealthy woman who urged Elisha to eat some food, and from there, something beautiful gradually became habitual: whenever Elisha passed that way, he would stop to eat.

I still remember having a similar experience during the COVID-19 pandemic. One Sunday, a friend insisted that I stay and eat. That simple invitation marked the beginning of one of the best friendships I have ever known. I continue to thank God for him and his family, whose genuine love and hospitality remain unforgettable. May the Lord continue to grant him eternal rest.

Back to today's reading and what the text gradually reveals to us.

At first glance, one could easily conclude that because this woman was wealthy, her generosity cost her little. I was not there, but I have met people who help others effortlessly, with joy and smiles on their faces, as though they have everything figured out. We are often tempted to think that this is simply their nature and that they encounter no obstacles in doing so. After all, we were told that she was a wealthy woman. But was that really the case? Did she truly have everything figured out? What was actually happening behind the scenes?

The rest of the reading gradually reveals a woman who beautifully embodies the very instructions Jesus gives in today's Gospel:

Matthew 10:37–42

37 He who loves father or mother more than me is not worthy of me; and he who loves son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me.

38 He who does not take his cross and follow me is not worthy of me.

39 He who finds his life will lose it, and he who loses his life for my sake will find it.

40 "He who receives you receives me, and he who receives me receives him who sent me.

41 He who receives a prophet because he is a prophet shall receive a prophet's reward, and he who receives a righteous man because he is a righteous man's reward.

42 And whoever gives to one of these little ones even a cup of cold water because he is a disciple, truly, I say to you, he shall not lose his reward."

Now that we have today's Gospel before us, let us return to this remarkable woman.

To be honest, I cannot articulate all that this passage opens up, but I would like to reflect on a few aspects.

We encounter someone who had her own crosses, burdens, and problems, yet none of these prevented her from reaching out in love. As she continued to offer hospitality to this stranger whom she noticed needed food, she gradually discovered something more: he was a man of God, and he needed not only food but also a place to rest, a bed, a table, a chair, and a lamp. She noticed these needs because she paid attention to the person before her rather than to herself.

She recognized that providing these things involved not only herself but also her husband, and therefore asked him to prepare a small room for the prophet. Perhaps we often overlook what this request demanded of her. It meant reorganizing part of their home, making room for someone who was still, in many respects, a stranger, and sharing this generous undertaking with her family. Yet she did so willingly.

Elisha, the beneficiary of her generosity, was also paying attention, for he realized that hosting him had not been easy for her. After some time, he could no longer ignore the sacrifices she had been making. He therefore sent Gehazi to ask her:

"Say now to her, 'See, you have taken all this trouble for us; what is to be done for you? Would you have a word spoken on your behalf to the king or to the commander of the army?'" (2 Kings 4:13)

It almost seems that Elisha had become so accustomed to her generosity that he knew very little about the woman herself. Such situations are not uncommon. Sometimes we receive the sacrifices of others without ever asking what they themselves are carrying. Yet this woman continued carrying her cross and following the Lord.

One might have expected that she would finally reveal her deepest need. After all, she herself had recognized Elisha as a man of God and had even persuaded her husband to prepare a room for him. Now the prophet was offering to speak to the king or to the commander of the army on her behalf. Yet her only reply was:

"I dwell among my own people." (2 Kings 4:13)

Had Gehazi not intervened, Elisha might have continued seeing only the visible sacrifices involved in preparing meals, arranging a room, and extending hospitality. How often do we make judgments about the lives of others based only on what we can see? Gehazi reminds us that behind visible struggles there may lie a much deeper wound that has gone unnoticed.

He then revealed what the woman herself had never mentioned:

"Well, she has no son, and her husband is old." (2 Kings 4:14)

Chaiiiiiii!

One can only imagine what must have gone through Elisha's mind upon hearing this. Yet the narrator simply tells us that he did not dwell on what he had failed to see, but immediately sought a solution:

"Call her." And when he had called her, she stood in the doorway. And he said, "At this season, when the time comes round, you shall embrace a son." (2 Kings 4:15–16)

The woman's response reveals something even deeper:

"No, my lord, O man of God; do not lie to your maidservant." (2 Kings 4:16)

Her words reveal a wound with which she had learned to live, a hope she no longer wished to awaken. The depth of that pain becomes even clearer later in the narrative when the child dies and she says to Elisha:

"Did I ask my lord for a son? Did I not say, 'Do not deceive me?'" (2 Kings 4:28)

One can only imagine the pain of a woman without a son. We remember Sarah's long struggle before the birth of Isaac, and Hannah's tears before Samuel was born.

Yet this woman carried within herself a wound that few people knew, and she did not allow that wound to prevent her from noticing the needs of another. Perhaps this is one of the most beautiful lessons of the passage. Our deepest wounds need not imprison us within ourselves. When love remains attentive to others, God often chooses that very path through which to visit us. We see the same pattern in Abraham's encounter with the three visitors in Genesis 18 and in Jesus' identification of himself with those in need in Matthew 25.

We should also remember what gave rise to the mission of the Twelve in the first place. At the end of Matthew 9, Jesus saw the crowds, abandoned like sheep without a shepherd, and was moved with compassion. He called his disciples and sent them to care for those entrusted to them. The closing verses of today's Gospel challenge us to ask whether our own attachments, fears, or sufferings have made us less attentive to those whom God has placed in our care.

If this woman had remained absorbed in her longing for a son, she might never have noticed this traveler who later proved to be a man of God. Nor would she have embraced the sacrifices involved in caring for him. And as the first reading makes clear, she did not serve him in order to obtain a miracle. What mattered to her was helping this prophet and ensuring that he had what he needed to carry out his mission.

Therefore, we are invited to ask ourselves:

Has my own suffering made me blind to the needs of others?

Am I helping others because I love them, or because I hope to gain something from them—or even from God?

Am I attentive enough to recognize what God has entrusted to the people around me?

Do people become stronger in their vocation because they have encountered me?

May the Lord grant us hearts like that of the Shunammite woman: hearts that begin with what they can do; hearts that learn to see beyond themselves; hearts that quietly make room for God's work in the lives of others; and hearts that continue to love without calculation, trusting that the God who sees the needs of others also sees the deepest longings of our own hearts.

Ifeanyichukwu Joseph Ezemba