OT 11 [A]: Ex 19:2-6; Rom 5:6-11; Mt 9:36–10:8 

One of the questions that frequently surfaces in discussions of salvation history is: “Why did God choose Israel out of all the nations of the world?” In our current cultural climate—marked by a troubling resurgence of anti-Semitism in both the East and the West—this question takes on a more urgent, pressing dimension. Just as historical regimes did in the past, it remains a convenient and deeply flawed scapegoating tactic to blame societal anxieties on the Jewish people. Therefore, looking at the scriptures today, we must ask: Was God’s choice of Israel merely accidental, or was it deeply intentional?

The Word of God reveals that this election was entirely intentional. As we heard in the first reading from the Book of Exodus, God chose Israel to be a distinct, holy people. Yet, this was not an act of arbitrary favoritism. It was a choice born of divine purpose: “You of all the nations shall be my very own for all the earth is mine. I will count you a kingdom of priests, a consecrated nation.” To understand our own identity as the Church today, we must first unpack what this ancient mission entailed.

First, Israel's election served to reveal the One True God to an ancient world dominated by polytheism and idol worship. In an age of institutionalized relativism—where every deity was considered as good as another, judged purely by the material success of the kingdom it protected—monotheism was a radical revolution. The claim of divine election was not an arrogant boast of national superiority. Rather, it was a bold assertion of the supreme authority and sole sovereignty of the One God over all nations.

Secondly, the election of Israel prepared the human lineage that would give rise to the Messiah. This stands as the primary structural mission of Israel: to be the family through which the Savior, Jesus Christ, would be born.

Finally, Israel’s election was inherently universal. God did not choose them for their own isolated privilege, but to be “a light to the Gentiles.” They were to act as a global priesthood, drawing all nations to the Creator by becoming a living model of worship and obedience. As God originally promised Abraham: “In you all the nations of the earth will be blessed.”

Despite these grand purposes, we might still ask: Why Israel? Why the Jews? Could these roles not have been assigned to any other ancient civilization?

The scriptural truth is that there is no logical explanation beyond the mystery of God’s gratuitous love and mercy. God’s choice was made to fulfill the promises He freely swore to their ancestors. In the drama of salvation, God chooses persons before He chooses nations. As Deuteronomy 7 beautifully explains, the Lord set His heart on them not because they were numerous or great, but simply “because the Lord loved you and because of his fidelity to the oath he had sworn to your ancestors.” It is a scandal of pure grace.

While the history of the Old Testament is a narrative of Israel struggling with unfaithfulness, their foundational "chosen-ness" laid the bedrock for the New Covenant. Jesus was Jewish. The Apostles were Jewish. The first martyrs were Jewish. In today’s Gospel, we see a powerful affirmation of this continuity when Jesus selects twelve specific men. This choice was profoundly symbolic and intentionally provocative. For a first-century Jew, twelve leaders immediately recalled the twelve tribes of Israel—tribes that had been fractured, dispersed, and assimilated among the Gentiles. By calling twelve apostles, Jesus was signaling the long-awaited gathering of the scattered, the definitive messianic restoration of God’s people.

This raises a vital question for modern Christians: Is the modern state of Israel the direct biblical heir to these specific Old Testament promises? As the Second Vatican Council emphasized in Nostra Aetate, God's original covenant with the Jewish people remains irrevocable, and they hold a permanent, special place in the mystery of salvation.

Is the present-day nation of Israel the same one that God blessed through Abraham and his sons? A simple answer is “No.” As simple as this sounds, it requires some unpacking. The Catholic Church views herself as the New Israel. The Church doesn’t simply replace Israel; rather, in a very real sense, the Church is Israel. It is the multi-ethnic and multi-national family made up of both Jews and Gentiles that the Old Testament prophets always said Israel would one day become. But rather than the old Israel whose membership was based on lineage, the members of the New Israel would be based on their relationship with Christ.

Because we are the New Israel, we inherit the exact vocation given in Exodus. We are called to be a “kingdom of priests, a consecrated nation.” St. Peter echoes this directly: “But you are a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation... that you may declare the wonderful deeds of him who called you out of darkness.”

In antiquity, a priest was a mediator standing between God and humanity. The Israelites were meant to evangelize the world by showing them how to live. Today, that responsibility falls to us.

In the Gospel, Jesus provides the exact blueprint for this priestly ministry: “You received without charge, give without charge.” This instruction contains two inseparable parts:

1.  The Gift: We have freely received the unmerited love, mercy, and forgiveness of God.

2.  The Mandate: Because we have received this grace without cost, we must pour it out to others without keeping score, forgiving as we have been forgiven.

Before sending the disciples out to heal and preach, Jesus commands them to “ask the Lord of the harvest to send laborers into his harvest.” Jesus certainly prayed for this Himself, yet He demands our participation. Why? Because what we pray for reveals what our hearts truly value. By commanding us to pray for the harvest, Jesus forces us to take personal responsibility for the world around us, looking upon the harassed and dejected crowds with the very same compassion that moved His divine heart.

To be part of the Church, the New Israel, is a profound privilege. But this "chosen-ness" must never breed spiritual pride or entitlement. To borrow a well-known contemporary axiom: With great power—and great privilege—comes great responsibility. We are chosen not to be a closed country club of the saved, but to be dynamic missionaries sent into a broken world. Let us live out our priestly identity this week, preaching the Gospel through lives of radical generosity, and bringing the light of Christ to those who dwell in darkness.