32nd Sunday in Ordinary Time
Fr Nate Sokol • November 10, 2026
One of the great joys for many parents is watching their very young children play organized sports for the very first time. There is the thrill of seeing them in uniform and being part of a team. Now some sports are usually easier for young children to “get” --- that is, are easier for kids to embrace fairly quickly. Soccer comes to mind. At its most basic it’s running around and kicking a ball. Nearly every child can do that.
Baseball can be more difficult. The game can be hard to understand, and the rules can be confusing. But one of the biggest challenges of baseball (for young children) is staying attentive during the times when nothing seems to be happening. One thing that often happens (and makes adults chuckle) is when a ball (miraculously) is hit into the outfield and bounds past a player who is in his or her own world. We’ve seen balls go past players with their backs to the infield watching a bird in a tree, or sitting down pulling out blades of grass, or staring at their gloves as if they’ve never seen one before. And they always seem startled as the ball bounces past them and the batter scampers around the bases.
We are amused by it because nothing is really at stake. Nothing about the game is that important. Nothing is truly on the line. No one is in danger.
However, we know that being inattentive is not always so benign. Sometimes the stakes are much higher. We see it with cell phones as people sometimes get in car accidents because they are focused on their screen. Or we see marriages start to fall apart as one or both spouses no longer pay that much attention to the other. || And not one of us would want the person flying our plane, or doing our surgery, or building our home, or fixing our car to not have their mind and focus where it should be. Yes, an inattentive right fielder is not a problem, but inattentiveness in other areas of life can be and often is a problem.
We just heard a story from Matthew’s Gospel (often called the Parable of the Ten Virgins) in which five women are completely ready, attentive, prepared, and focused on meeting the bridegroom, while five others aren’t ---five others who were somewhat short-sighted or lazy or unable to foresee what possibilities might arise. And when the bridegroom (Jesus) finally arrives the five who brought extra oil were invited into the feast. The five who didn’t, well, they were nowhere to be found. They had wandered off searching for something (oil) and missed out on both the encounter with the bridegroom and the feast that followed.
Maybe they left because they would have been embarrassed to stay with lamps that had burned out. Maybe they worried that someone might be angry with them. Or maybe they simply thought they had plenty of time to do this other thing and get back. We don’t really know.
But what they weren’t --- was present for Jesus. The encounter they set out to have - ultimately did not happen. The responsibility they planned on fulfilling did not get fulfilled. And the wonderful wedding feast they expected to attend was taken from them. Put simply, they had wandered off somewhere --- forgetting or ignoring the most important thing of all. Like the kid sitting in the grass, the ball had gone past them. And there wasn’t going to be a do-over. The chance had come and gone.
We can understand this story as applying to Jesus’ return at the end of time, to our return to Jesus at the end of our earthly lives, and also as applying to encounters with Jesus now. You see, in a sense, all sin is a kind of wandering, a straying from the path to holiness, a missing out on a God-moment because all our attention, our focus, our priorities are somewhere else. Something else on our calendar seems more important. More valuable. More urgent. More attractive. Often our intentions start off good, but then begin to wane, or get distorted, or muddled.
After all, we all want to be good holy people. We wouldn’t be here if we didn’t.
We all want to do the right thing --- for ourselves and for others. But sometimes we don’t.
And the moment to do the right thing, the holy thing, the God-thing, passes us by, never to be reclaimed, never to be done-over.
These encounters with the bridegroom, with our loving God, are offerings of grace --- our God sharing his life with us so that we can (and will) share that same life with others. And the time to be ready, the time to be attentive, the time to strive to be the person God wants us to be is right NOW.
You see, some encounter with God this very day, and some good deed in response to that encounter, will not get done if we imitate the five foolish women in the story who were convinced they had plenty of time --- will not happen if we wander in search of something that is less important, something that doesn’t matter much (if at all).
It’s not God who fails to come to us. It’s our failure to be present to the God who comes to us continually that ultimately makes the feast --- the celebration of all that is good and life-giving --- shared by only a few, instead of shared by all.
May the feast we are here for today, prepare us to be ready for the eternal feast.
Life can be difficult. I don’t have to tell you that. It’s always been difficult --- and thousands of years of “progress” doesn’t necessarily change that. On top of that, certain periods, certain eras, certain events can seem to be even more so, even more difficult. Maybe this time in human history (and our nation’s history) feels that way to some of you. And these “difficulties” come in all shapes and sizes. Some of us are facing difficulties in our families --- maybe more fractured and spread out. Some of us face difficulties in the workplace. Some of us struggle at school or struggle to fit in or struggle with addictions. And in the broadest sense, many of us worry whether or not our nation is living up to its founding promises, or whether or not the world is becoming safer and more at peace. Yes, for most of us there seems to be difficulties all around us. “These are the ones who have survived the time of great distress” So says an elder to John as recorded in the Book of Revelation in today’s First Reading. John (in a vision) had seen a great multitude wearing white robes and standing before the throne and the Lamb, praising God in loud voices. These “survivors” were from every nation, race, people, and tongue --- men and women who had “survived the time of great distress”, who had “washed their robes . . . in the blood of the Lamb.” Whoever they were, they were now in the presence of God, in the presence of all that was good and holy and worthy of praise. Today, we gather on this All Saints Day to recognize, to remember, to give thanks to God for, and to ask the prayers of --- the countless men and women who have gone before us in faith and who now dwell for all eternity in heaven, in the loving arms of our loving God. Some we know --- know their names and know their stories --- the Saints with a capital “S”. They can teach us much. But we also come to rejoice in all the saints with a small “s” --- those who are known to God alone, but who still care for us, love us, pray for us. Those who we hope to be someday. “These are the ones who have survived the time of great distress” Yet, it seems (in ways we don’t always fully understand) that, to dwell where they dwell, we too must somehow be “survivors in times of distress”, to have somehow come through a kind of ordeal, somehow made it through “something”. What could that be? What must we “survive”? . . . . Life. Earthly life is what we ultimately need to face, need to “survive”. But I don’t mean that life is some “test”, or to be “endured”, or to be “feared”. It is none of those things. It is precious. It is beautiful. It is God’s great gift to us. But it is not easy. Challenges will come our way. And for the Christian (and for everyone, really) to “survive” this life, to “survive” these times of distress, is to not let these things change us for the worse, not let these things lead us to be people we are not meant to be. It's relatively easy (or at least, less difficult) to embrace a Jesus-like life when times are good, when we and our loved ones are healthy, when money isn’t in short supply, when our friends are there for us, when our spouses are in our corner, when our hopes and dreams are being realized. The challenge is to still be Jesus-like (as best we can) when those things are not present, when our lives are not going or unfolding as we hoped they would. In those sorts of times it’s tempting to start turning inward, tempting to start forgetting that a faithful life is an other-centered life. To remain the person God calls us to be in times of distress is ultimately what it means to “survive” this life, survive the forces and events that are nudging us toward an unholy path. That’s what every Saint and saint (capital S and small s) have done, and why we look up to them, and get inspiration from them, and want their prayers from them. It starts with recognizing and believing that we are children of God (as we heard in the Second Reading from the First letter of John). And it reaches fulfillment in embracing the kind of life articulated in the Gospel Beatitudes. A life in which we’re able to embrace humility. A life in which we’re able to know what’s precious and mourn it when it is absent. A life in which we are meek and gentle and kind. A life in which we work for true justice. A life in which we extend mercy and forgiveness. A life in which our motives and thoughts and actions are pure. A life in which we bring peace and not division or strife. And a life in which we stand up for what is right --- even when no one seems to be listening. To do these things is to have “survived the time of great distress”. To do these things is to have embraced a saintly life. And while (most likely) not one of us will attain Sainthood with a capital S, we can live with a kind of humble confidence that we too, someday, will be gathered at the throne of God --- surrounded by a multitude --- praising God, and living the life of pure joy, happiness, love and peace we were ultimately created for.
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You’re out to dinner with a friend, enjoying a nice meal together. The time comes to pay the bill and your friend says something like, “Oh, I don’t have my wallet. I’ll owe you.” Usually when that happens, I find myself saying, “Don’t worry about it.” And I mean it. It’s funny how “owing” is a big part of our lives. And consequently, we probably think about our debts often --- “I owe so and so a birthday card, I owe the credit card company, I owe that person a phone call, I owe my mom a visit.” But some of what we “owe” isn’t quite as explicit --- “I owe my employer a full day’s work, I owe my kids my full attention, I owe my spouse my understanding, I owe my friend my loyalty.” Yet, for all our preoccupation with whom we owe (and who owes us), most of us neglect to truly wrestle with the most important question of all: What do I owe God? “Then repay to Caesar what belongs to Caesar and to God what belongs to God.” At some level I think most of us (if not all) acknowledge that we owe God something. What that is comes in many shapes and sizes. Some of us may feel that all we owe God is our obedience to his laws. Nothing more and nothing less. Others of us may feel that we owe him some time and effort each week (Mass, prayers, acts of kindness). Some of us may be convinced that what we really owe God is a percentage of our income. Still others among us may feel that we owe God certain things we have promised him in return for blessings or favors. My guess is that most of us have probably incorporated all of these motivations into our spiritual lives. “Then repay to Caesar what belongs to Caesar and to God what belongs to God.” It’s sort a shame how we tend to minimize what we truly owe God. Think about it for a minute. God owes us nothing and yet gives us everything (even his Son). We, in turn, owe God everything, and we give him . . . . . . . Each of us has to complete that sentence for ourselves. And even though each of us is unique --- with different wants, needs, capabilities, and backgrounds --- that which we owe God is the same for each of us, for God asks for nothing short of our whole selves. And that can be more than a little intimidating, overwhelming, and frightening. Give God my whole self? How exactly do I do that? The “how” may become a little clearer if we take a closer look at that famous verse once more. “Then repay to Caesar what belongs to Caesar and to God what belongs to God.” The coin belongs to Caesar because his image is on it. And similarly, everything that has the image of God imprinted on it belongs to God. And so we must ask ourselves a very important question --- who or what are these “coins” that show us the face of God? …Get ready. It is you and it is me. WE are the coins on which a face is stamped. And the face is not any of ours. It is the face of our loving God, the image of God which we were imprinted with from the moment of our creation. From the moment God willed us into existence he “stamped” us in such a way so we would never forget to whom we belong. We belong to God. And the way in which we were created is God’s way of saying, “You are mine.” And that’s what he wants us to repay him with, give back to him, return to him. Ourselves. If we only see our lives as somehow an attempt to “repay” God for what he has done for us, we will always come up short. No matter how much we do or don’t do we can never “pay God back” fully. That’s just not possible, which is why Jesus became one of us and paid the ultimate price--- to redeem us --- to “buy us back.” If we are able to see ourselves as “belonging” to God, then our lives become something else all together --- a giving back to God what is already his. Now that we can do. If you think about it, sin is exactly the opposite, living as if our lives belonged to no one but ourselves. We are in charge. We call the shots. We make the rules. The Truth is whatever I want it to be. We know better. That sort of attitude began in the Garden and continues today. Believing that we belong only to ourselves is a kind of slavery, a lie. Instead of freeing us, it traps us within ourselves with endless pursuits of misguided dreams. It puts the weight of the world on our shoulders as we struggle with the challenges of life. And it fails to give us that deep sense of hope we all need --- a hope rooted in Faith in a savior. Believing deeply that we belong to God will transform us. Instead of seeing our relationship with God as purely one person in debt to another, we will begin to realize that one of the deepest realities of our lives is one of true “communion” --- between creature and Creator. And this is truly Good News, for the truth is, we are in the best of hands --- sustained, supported, and comforted by the One who is Love, the one who calls us his own. And we can almost certainly be assured that God never intends to tell us, “You owe me.” Rather, it’s much more likely that he’s trying to encourage us and assure us each and every day, “love me . . . as I love you.” Caesar may have had his face on a coin . . . . . . . . but God? His image is everywhere.
Twenty-eighth Sunday in Ordinary Time – Oct. 11, 2026 Readings: Is. 25:6–10a •Matt. 22:1–14 Dress for Success Dcn. Bill Kenney We were blessed to have two of our children married this past summer. Both weddings were witnessed and celebrated with great joy for both the happy couples. Afterwards, there was a lovely wedding banquet with all the trimmings - drink, food, music, and dancing. Hallmark picture perfect. The conventional dress for a wedding ceremony and party is to dress “nice” or “dressy”- appropriate to give honor and respect due the couple and the special occasion they worked so hard to provide for their guests. In our Gospel reading from Matthew, Jesus explains a parable to the chief priests and elders the, “Chosen People”. A King hosts a wedding banquet or feast for his son and sends out invitations, expecting favorable RSVP’s. They simply rejected his invitation. So, he sent his servants again with more information of how glorious this wedding banquet was going to be! They responded not only in rejection, but even violence- dishonoring the King and his Son. Finally, the King sends more servants to open the wedding banquet to all people, not just the ungracious chosen people. The place was packed. The King was satisfied until he came upon a man who did not wear the proper wedding garment. Now, in ancient Near East royal custom, a benevolent king hosting such a wedding banquet would frequently provide the wedding garments at the door. This man either refused the garment out of ignorance or out of spite and disrespect for his host. He stood in silence lacking internal spiritual grace. He was thrown out the door. The character roles can readily convey the elder’s disorder and even ours today. The saying, “dress for success” takes on an eschatological, or end-times, meaning when we speak of dressing for the eternal wedding banquet of the Lamb, in the Kingdom of God. The only true, lasting success we will ever enjoy will be our eternal salvation with Christ in Heaven. The garments we put on for such success have both an external and internal significance. At Mass we celebrate and memorialize the passion, death, and resurrection of Jesus and partake of the gift of his Body and Blood in the Eucharist. The Catechism teaches us, “…the liturgy of the Mass is a ‘participation in the heavenly liturgy’ where the church on earth is united with the liturgy of heaven.” How do you think we should dress for such an encounter with God? Now, no one is going to be thrown out of here for being under or inappropriately dressed. Our clothing, however, should be modest. Modesty is part of temperance, a Cardinal virtue for moderation and self-control. It avoids the extremes of shabbiness on one hand and dazzling apparel on the other. From a bishop’s document in 2006: (Q) “We should also come to the sacred liturgy appropriately dressed. As Christians we should dress in a modest manner, wearing clothes that reflect our reverence for God and that manifest our respect for the dignity of the liturgy and for one another.” (end Q) Today, however, the tendency is toward showing too much skin. Skimpy and overly tight clothing, more like beachwear, doesn’t belong in Church, plain and simple. Consider also the near occasion of sin we may cause someone! Now, having said that, to forsake Mass due to not having appropriate clothing is not the answer either. Never miss Mass . God understands the intentions of your heart which is really the most important part of dressing for and celebrating Mass. The reason for dressing modestly and respectfully for Mass is because it can be an external sign of what we believe internally. Dressing appropriately is a crucial way to show our respect for God and the sacraments. When we enter the church doors, we are entering sacred space. God’s house is sacred space that demands that we pay honor and respect to him when we are visiting him. As the Clergy wear special garments to celebrate the sacraments, so too you are to wear garments appropriate to the occasion, especially the Mass. Do our external garments reflect the internal garments of our soul? When I see pictures of third-world country adults and children in bright white shirts and dresses gathered to celebrate Mass under a grass hut, I am often moved to see the outward sign of their internal love for God. Their faith and love for God is undeniable. How are we dressed, internally, for the Mass and everyday living? Do we put on the garments of faith, hope, and love? Charity, humility, and forgiveness? Do we put on an attitude of gratitude? Is my garment clean? If the wedding garment symbolizes the grace of my baptism, do I regularly cleanse and renew it through the Sacrament of Reconciliation? We are to be clothed with Christ so people will know we are Christians; to make the internal garments of our soul express and radiate out to our external living: our care and love for others. In turn, we receive from our benevolent God the rich foods and choice wines of his mercy and grace, so graciously and abundantly given to us, culminating in the Body and Blood of his Son at Mass. Ours is a loving King and Father. He offers us an eternal wedding banquet at the end of our lives. We need only accept his daily gifts with a contrite and humble heart dressed with the garments of virtue in conducting our lives. May we all RSVP with a resounding “yes” to the invitation. May we internally transform and don a spirit of holiness, by the grace of God, for our salvation and for the glory of God.
Some people love borrowing things. Other people are much more hesitant because they worry they might damage the thing being borrowed. Some people have a harder time using someone else’s stuff the closer they are to them, because they want to please them, and care about them, and don’t want to forget to return the item. We just heard a couple of readings that both speak about vineyards --- although not in the exact same way. In the First Reading from Isaiah we hear about an owner of a vineyard who does everything within his power to ensure a good harvest, to ensure a field of choice grapes. Instead, wild grapes grow in their place. Needless to say --- he is not happy. And in the Gospel passage from Matthew we hear Jesus tell a parable about a landowner who leases his vineyard to tenants --- who, when the time comes to turn the produce over to the landowner, refuse to do so. Instead, they beat and kill a number of his servants, and ultimately even kill the landowner’s son. Consequently, the landowner’s anger cannot be contained. In the first story the landowner never got the results he hoped to get. And in the second story the ones who had leased the property, the ones who were “borrowing” it in a sense, had come to see themselves as the owners, had come to see themselves as being falsely “in charge”. Of course, there is much that can be said about these stories --- particularly what they meant to those who first heard them --- things about how the house of Israel had let God down and how (in the future) God’s own son would pay the ultimate price for the failure of us all. Well, what does that have to do with us? WE are the current tenants of the vineyard --- the ones called to bring about good fruit, that is, called to return to God what is rightfully his. Put another way --- all that we have is on loan, is ours to use, to “borrow” in a sense, to work and enjoy and experience and transform for the short time we are on this earth. And with that comes a certain kind of responsibility --- not unlike the house we can rent but are not allowed to trash, or the car that must be returned to the rental agency in the condition we received it. In other words, every good thing we have, every gift and blessing, every material thing, even the earth is itself is not for us to do with as we please. The “landowner” gets to dictate that. And failing to do that comes with some pretty serious consequences --- for us and for every good thing that was left unaccomplished because of our failure to see ourselves as tenants working the land and not the one to whom the land belongs. You may be thinking, “Well, I didn’t ASK for this responsibility, didn’t set out to “borrow” these things. Don’t I get a say in it?” In one sense, you are correct. The choice is always ours. The choice to bear good fruit or not. The choice to give to God what is rightfully God’s or consider all of it to be ours. God won’t force us one way or another. But don’t for a second believe that you never agreed to this. We (or our parents) agreed to this the day of our baptism. We reaffirmed this sacred commitment at our confirmation. And we keep “agreeing” to it not only every time we stand and profess what we believe in the creed, but also (and maybe most importantly) each time we come forward and give our sincere “Amen!” as we receive our Lord in the Eucharist. And this isn’t the “fine print” on some kind of contact. It is the center of the agreement, the heart of the agreement, the “blueprint” of what it means to be a follower – a disciple - of Jesus. A holy agreement in which we pledge to take every good thing our loving God provides and use them solely for his glory --- that is, use them to the betterment of others and for the transformation of the world --- a continual caring for the vineyard in such a way that God’s will is not ignored but embraced, not discarded but made more and more manifest, not minimized but allowed to flourish. And our love for this God of ours should compel us want to be the best stewards possible, the best “borrowers” --- men and women who want to take all that God provides and transform it into more than before. That’s the incredible God we have --- a God who is not wary of us but who believes in us, a God who doesn’t worry if we will mess up but rather is confident that we can make things better than they were yesterday, a God who needs truly nothing from us and yet invites us to cooperate with his grace to help bring about things on this earth we could never have brought about on our own. This world, this vineyard is our responsibility now --- whether we want it to be or not. And that’s actually not a burden but a blessing. Whatever we choose to do with that responsibility is, well, up to us. And while we figure out how to meet that responsibility, let’s never forget to whom this world and every person in it belongs.
I sure HEAR a lot about God these days. And Jesus, too. Lots and lots of stuff about Jesus. Even the Spirit comes up once in a while. And I am not referring to here at the parish, but rather about out in the world. And it doesn’t make me happy. What? Did I just say that? I’m being serious. Of course, what I’m saying is it’s not THAT I’m hearing a lot about God that makes me unhappy. It’s the WAY I’m hearing God “used” that concerns me. So many people these days use “God language” all the time. Conversations are now peppered with the word “blessed” so often and so randomly that it’s kind of lost its meaning. Commercials sometimes use religious words and imagery to market a product that has nothing to do with anything religious --- probably as a way of getting the attention of the consumers they are targeting. People send countless emojis of praying hands for almost every kind of situation, ….are people actually praying? A batter hits a home run and starts his post-game interview giving God the credit. (Although does that mean the pitcher who gave up the homer gets to give God the blame?) Is that really who we think God is, or is it just a way to “cover our bases”? (Pun intended!) And don’t get me started on the use of God-talk in the political sphere. It’s used in campaigns and speeches and arguments and all sorts of situations --- almost always to send signals to certain people --- that is, to tell listeners, “See? I’m good. Not like those OTHER people.” Words. Words. Words. God it seems, Jesus it seems, Christianity it seems, has become a kind of brand, a kind of consumer product, a catch-phrase, an ad campaign, something often used by a person to get someone else to feel a certain way about that person. Sometimes I wonder if I do the same thing. Maybe we should all wonder. We just heard a very simple story. One son said the wrong thing, but eventually DID the right thing. The other son SAID the right thing, but ultimately did the wrong thing. Jesus asked the chief priests and elders, “Which of the two did his father’s will?” They answered him correctly --- the first son. Jesus replies (to them, and to us), “Amen, I say to you, tax collectors and prostitutes are entering the kingdom of God before you.” That verse from the mouth of Jesus should sober us up. We Christians spend a lot of time talking about God. We often say the right things. Invoke his name from time to time. Pepper our conversations with a few religious words. We even talk as if we know the mind of God. And of course, we so often look with suspicion on those who don’t exactly talk about God in this way. What we fail to take an honest look at are ACTIONS --- those of others, but most especially our OWN actions. Are we like the son who said the words he felt his father wanted to hear, but who never followed through, never DID what the father asked of him? Do we do similar things all the time? You see, whether we like it or not, there’s only one measure of authentic faith --- and it has nothing to do with saying the right things or choosing the right words. What matters is how we live. Do our lives look anything like the life of Jesus? Do we love people others consider unlovable? Do we care for people no one else wants to care for? Do we serve in the vineyard, or only in a way that really doesn’t cost us much time or energy? Do we forgive the “unforgivable” things --- the things that hurt us deeply? And maybe most importantly, do we strive to see Jesus in every person? Or do we just talk a good game --- that is, just consider the words themselves as evidence that everything is right between us and God? I’m convinced that whatever threats there are to Christianity (large or small) many don’t really come from the outside. That’s just a convenient thing to believe. Many actually come from within. Christians can be the biggest threat to Christianity --- every time our actions don’t reflect the beliefs we profess with our words. Every time we make unfair judgments about people. Every time we fail to be kind. Every time we think we’re better than someone else. Every time we support beliefs and actions that are against the moral teachings of the Gospel and our faith. Now, our words do matter. (Even our praying hands emojis and religious greeting cards and faith-based bumper stickers and crosses hanging from our necks matter.) They really do. And not to small degree. They can help bring about some pretty important things --- healing, insight, comfort, encouragement, clarity, counsel, even faith. As you know, the message we are called to proclaim is ultimately “good news” --- the kind of message that transforms hearts and minds and lives. And words must be a significant part of the proclamation of eternal salvation, and so, by all means --- continue to speak of faith, and be transparent about your faith every chance you get. But we must make sure of two things. One --- that our use of God-talk (for lack of a better phrase) always comes from a place of love. And secondly --- we must make sure our ACTIONS (the only true evidence of faith) match what we profess to believe. Invite people to join you in living the faith in specific ways, not just discussing topics of faith. May Jesus in the Eucharist help us draw more souls to Him.
Twenty-fifth Sunday in O.T– Sept. 19, 2026 Readings: Is. 55:6-9 • Phil. 1:20c-24, 27a • Matt. 20:1-16a Desire for our true God. Dcn. Bill Kenney “The desire for God is written in the human heart, because man is created by and for God.” (this profound statement is from the Catechism CCC 27). Can we know more, better, and faster than God for what is just, wanting, and pleasing in our lives? A news broadcast recently reported that due to the secularization and apostacy of believers in the US, AI has become their new god, a creation of man, having infinite awareness: an omniscient, all-knowing entity, instantaneously understanding the past, present, and future. Sounds dangerously familiar to the ancient Israelites turning to and worshiping false god golden calves and idols of their own making. The prophets tell us of God’s wrath, justice, and mercy to straighten them out, to return them as a covenant people of God. Pope Leo XIV expresses his concerns with AI in his encyclical, Magnificent Humanity. AI could have [a Garden of Eden or] Tower of Babel effect: people seeking to become god-like, people without relationship in the one true God. Calamities in AI implementation could follow if not guided by a moral purpose and pursuit of truth for the dignity and social welfare of mankind. In today’s Gospel, Jesus speaks to us of a landowner’s prerogative to hire and pay workers as he sees fit. As with all parables, there is a profound truth revealing the omniscient divinity of God and his providence in our lives. We hear of God’s judgement, wisdom, generosity, and mercy in dealing within a seemingly controversial parable of hired worker’s compensation. An exegesis, a deeper meaning of this parable can be inferred: the kingdom of heaven is open to all who seek the Lord. Consider all the saints and martyrs who lived and died in Christ such as the Apostles, Sts. Stephen, Teresa of Calcutta, and Maximillian Kolbe. These and many others devoutly worshipped and sacrificed their entire lives for the glory of God and his Church. They are the early chosen laborers who have worked all day for the Lord. Consider also the death-bed converts, those who delay repentance and suddenly come to faith after living a life of debauchery and sin. They are those laborers selected to work the vineyard late in the day. Both groups receive the same “wage”, eternal life. But why? Is that fair? Where’s the justice? In our Gospel account, the all-day laborer’s grumbling is understandable, but is it Christian? We can, at times, sound like Job debating God’s ways and wisdom. God questions him, “Where were you when I founded the earth? Have the gates of death been shown to you?” From Isaiah, “For my thoughts are not your thoughts, nor are your ways my ways, says the LORD.” God, the Landowner, also questions the jealous early chosen laborers in our Gospel: “…am I not free to do as I wish with my own money? Are you envious because I am generous? How often do we compare ourselves to others in envy? In all righteousness, we must trust and accept God’s judgement and wisdom because we know he loves us and sees the big picture from all eternity. As the Psalmist says, “The LORD is just in all his ways and holy in all his works.” We should rejoice and be glad, not jealous or spiteful, for every soul that is rewarded with blessings of prosperity now, in their temporal lives, and in the eternal joy of heaven. In sincerity and strength of heart, we must pray for each other, “…lead all souls to heaven, especially those in MOST NEED of thy mercy.” And “…pray for us sinners now and at the hour of our death.” On behalf of the dead, we pray that “God …. does not count their deeds against them,… so may your mercy join them to the Angels in heaven”. How can we emulate others’ good qualities without envying them? Let’s not think and act that we know better than God, for in his judgement, wisdom, generosity, and mercy he wants the best for us out of great love for us. Accept that gift of love. Open your heart to realize your innate desire for God and grow in trust and faith. “Turn to the Lord for mercy; to our God who is generous and forgiving.” Our faith too needs to be grounded in the truth that is Jesus Christ present in the holy Eucharist before us. This Eucharist is the only Son of our omniscient God, our Creator, not a false AI god we created. Be at peace in God’s wisdom and grace in our lives. Pray for and bless each other so that all may gather for work in the vineyard. Together may we, as Paul says, “…conduct yourselves in a way worthy of the gospel of Christ.”- as we seek all things for the glory of God.
“So will my heavenly Father do to you . . .” Does God give us what we deserve? Think about it. Does God give us what we deserve? It seems like kind of an easy question at first, but the “answer” might be more challenging than we think. I guess it depends on what we think we “deserve”. For those of us who have lived a pretty decent life --- we probably hope that is the case, that good choices in life have sort of “earned” us God’s favor. But for those of us who have messed up time and time again, who have regretted many things we probably hope that God doesn’t give us what we deserve. Just the thought of God’s “justice” can be scary for those of us who have done many things of which we are ashamed. So, does God give us what we deserve? It’s a tricky question. The core beliefs of our faith answer that question with an emphatic “no”. We only need look at the cross to convince us of the infinite disparity between our sins and God’s love for us. Jesus paid a price that redeems all of us --- from the virtuous person to the greatest sinner and everyone in between. God died to save the squeaky-clean person and the person who finds it nearly impossible to love anyone but themselves, the person whose life reflects who God is and the person who seems to have turned his or her back on nearly every God-like quality. That’s the God we believe in --- a God who doesn’t demand that we earn his love (which is impossible), but chooses to love us no matter what. In that sense, not one of us “deserves” to be saved, deserves our heavenly reward. Rather, God offers it to us as the greatest gift possible. It is this sort of outpouring of God’s very life for our sake that we call “grace” --- God gifting us with every good thing --- our God wanting to dwell within every human heart, every human soul, every human person open to that possibility. Then why did we hear what we heard in two of our readings today? Our First Reading from Sirach tells us to, “Forgive your neighbor’s injustice; then when you pray, your own sins will be forgiven.” And in our Gospel passage from Matthew, Jesus tells a parable that ends with, “So will my heavenly Father do to you (hand us over to torturers) unless each of you forgives your brother from your heart.” Wow! Now I’m worried. I’m more like the person being described in the verse the author of Sirach told us at the beginning of the passage we just heard, “Wrath and anger are hateful things, yet the sinner hugs them tight.” The person who sometimes finds it hard to forgive. The person who sometimes is reluctant to show mercy. The person who is only generous up to a point. The person who sometimes judges people unfairly, or who gives in to ridicule and gossip, or who holds other people to a standard I don’t hold myself to. Does this mean we are in trouble of not receiving God’s blessings? I think part of the problem is that we often presume that grace is “irresistible”, that is, that we “receive” it whether we like it or not, want it or not, are open to it or not --- as if God sort of “forces” grace upon us. And while God COULD do that (in that we believe there are no absolute limits on God) he doesn’t seem WILLING to do that. God always invites. God always asks. God always encourages. God always gives us a choice --- to be open or not, be cooperative or not, be obedient or not, be receptive to what God is offering or hold those things at bay --- that is, not allow God to do precisely what God wants to do for us and through us. Even when it came to Mary, God seemed to want her “yes”. And so maybe when God says we will not be forgiven if we don’t forgive, he’s alerting us to the fact that the grace of God’s forgiveness will not reach its fullest expression, --- unless it is mirrored in the actual way we act and think and see. Put another way --- the way we TRULY receive the grace of God’s forgiveness is by forgiving others. And the way we truly receive the grace of God’s generosity is by being generous with others. And the way we truly receive the grace of God’s mercy is by being merciful. God’s gifts come alive in us and grow in us as we use them to build up His kingdom. Even the grace of receiving his Body and Blood reaches its fulfillment when we sincerely DESIRE to become the Body of Christ in our daily interactions. I guess you could say the way we truly experience love is by loving God and others. Maybe wondering whether or not we deserve God’s forgiveness or his mercy or his love is not really the point. The truth is --- GOD deserves those very things from US. So let’s spend a lifetime sharing with God and one another all the different aspects of God’s grace that we have been gifted with. We might be surprised at how much more real those same things become in us.
God doesn’t give us “permission” too often, does he? At least that’s the way it feels to many. God “refuses” or “takes away” permission all the time. That seems pretty clear. These are what we call the “don’ts” of faith. We don’t get to steal. We don’t get to kill. We don’t get to covet our neighbor’s things or spouse. We don’t get to dishonor our parents. We don’t get to misuse our sexuality. We don’t get to hate or get even or lie or cause harm to others. And we certainly don’t get to have “other” Gods (including our stubborn thirst for fame or power or riches or other Sunday activities). Yes, there are lots of “permissions” that God simply refuses to give. And that makes today kind of refreshing. If you weren’t paying attention, let me bring you up to speed. Our First Reading shows God commanding Ezekiel to “warn the wicked”. God goes on to say that if Ezekiel doesn’t do as God asks, he will be held responsible for the evil those people do. And in the Gospel passage from Matthew Jesus tells his disciples to (privately) confront people who have wronged them (and may, by extension, be giving the ok --- or be commanding them --- to point out a person’s misdeeds even if they are directed toward someone else). In other words, the two readings seem to be saying we should sort of “police” the behavior of other people. Just the permission we were hoping for! Yet, permissions are tricky things. Really tricky things. You probably know that. Think for a minute of some common situations requiring the giving of “permission”. The time we get our toddler a baby sitter. The time we give our kid permission to sleep over at a friend’s house. The time we let our teenage child take the family car somewhere. The time we give our son or daughter the ok to go to college far from home. The time we give someone the key to our house, or the password to our computer, or our credit card number. The time we give a subordinate at work the combination to the safe or access to the expensive merchandise. The time we sign forms at the hospital for some sort of medical procedure or surgery. The time a spouse or close relative gets their name put on our bank accounts. All things many of us have given permission for. And why are these things “tricky”? Because something can go wrong. And it’s the same for God. God gives us permission (in certain circumstances) to bring to someone’s attention a problem or fault or pattern of behavior that can be unhealthy (or just plain wrong) and he has no idea whether or not we will use that permission in the way he intends. In other words, it’s not just the “what” that is important. The “how and why” are as important, maybe even more important. And this is where we often mess up. And so, we sometimes bring a fault to a person’s attention NOT out of true concern, but because we want to hurt them in some way, make them feel overly bad for what they’ve done, or maybe even to make us feel kind of superior. That can never be the goal. Any sort of bringing up of this kind of thing must be done out of love, must be done because we want the best for the person and the people around that person. Along with the need for having a pure motive for our actions, we must also approach the situation fully aware of our own faults and failings, our own need to be better than we are, our own need to be forgiven. And so, one of the most important things we can bring to such a conversation is a willingness to acknowledge our faults --- not just internally, but to the person we’re talking to. This is especially true if the fault in question is something we are guilty of. Starting the conversation with, “I often struggle with the same thing,” or “I know from experience,” or “I’m probably the last person who should be offering advice on this subject,” can go a long way to having what we say next be better received. And of course, we should only use this “permission” in serious situations and after careful consideration. This is not a “when in doubt, go ahead” kind of thing. In fact, if we are doubting whether we should bring something to someone’s attention, that might be God telling us, “Not this time. or, Not right now.” Probably all of us are not too crazy about people pointing out our faults and failings. It really rubs us the wrong way. We can get defensive, or angry, or irritated. Sometimes we want to distance ourselves from that person, wanting to avoid the situation altogether. And that should tell us something. You see, if others pointing out our wrongdoings is not ok, then the reverse is not ok either. That seems pretty obvious. And so maybe we need to try looking at such encounters in a much different way --- that is, start seeing constructive helpful comments from others as just that --- constructive and done from a place of love --- grace-filled moments that might be God’s way of trying to get us to be the best person we can be. And only then will we be in a position to reach out in love to others in the hope of helping them be the best they can be too. I guess we don’t really need God’s permission for that.
Twenty-second Sunday in O.T– August 30, 2026 Readings: Jer. 20:7–9 • Romans 12:1–2 • Matt. 16:21–27 Discipleship in the Lord. Dcn. Bill Kenney “You ‘duped’ me, O Lord” is Jeremiah’s cry when he realizes the cost of discipleship as a prophet of the Lord. He was duped into a way of life that he thought he understood. But as he followed God he discovered more and more that what he got himself into was not what he expected. He was laughed at, mocked, and persecuted by hostile crowds of unbelievers, yet the Spirit of the Lord gave him the power to persevere. Have we been duped? Our modern-day costs of discipleship in Christ involves the exact same spiritual surrender as with Jeremiah, but manifests itself differently in our daily lives. Within our secular world and workplaces, we may face ridicule, exclusion, or “canceling” for holding to biblical morals- such as being pro-life. We choose worship, service, and prayer over hobbies, sports, and entertainment. We tithe and give to mission charities in sacrifice and devotion instead of squandering our surplus wealth. Discipleship has its costs and, as we hear in the Gospel, the Son of Man will repay us at his coming for being his righteous disciples. Like Jeremiah, the Christian way of life is not about having it all figured out either. Discipleship is about being on a journey with Jesus and not knowing where we are going. Discipleship is about wrestling with God and trusting his providence for our life; to accompany him on a twisting, sometimes smooth, sometimes rocky journey of faith. To be a true disciple of Jesus requires, as is implied in the word, discipline. We must be disciplined in our complete surrender, self-giving sacrifice, and transformation in our relationship with Christ. St. Paul reinforces this discipline in our second reading to the Romans when he writes, ”… offer your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and pleasing to God, your spiritual worship.” We surrender to Christ our ego, our self-centeredness, and sinful tendencies. In all humility, we surrender and live our lives knowing he is God and we are not. We surrender our time and energies to strive to be one with Christ. As practicing Catholic disciples, we worship at Mass, never missing weekly Mass and Holy Days of Obligation, except for good reason. We participate as one family in the prayers, hymns, and liturgy of the Mass, culminating in our reception of the Holy Eucharist. We surrender our shortcomings through the regular reception of the sacrament of reconciliation to rekindle our relationship in Christ. We make sacrifices as disciples, sacrificing our bodies, minds, and hearts to be united with that of Christ’s, even when it is inconvenient, uncomfortable, and not popular with others. Like orange juice for dinner, prayer, fasting, and almsgiving are not just for Lent anymore. We sacrifice our time as a gift and blessing to those who need our care. Take the time to make a call, card, or visit, especially to our elderly, sick, and homebound. How can acts of sacrifice help us to grow in solidarity with our needy brothers and sisters among us? In the timeless words of St Paul, he goes on to say, “Do not conform yourselves to this age but be transformed by the renewal of your mind, that you may discern what is the will of God, what is good and pleasing and perfect.” Amid the societal noise and confusion of our present day, these words ring true more than ever. As disciples we are called to discern the will of God and be transformed, undergo metanoia, even daily, from the snares of evil around us; to hope and see the goodness and truth in God’s creation- most especially in each other. In emulating our Blessed Mother, we say “yes” to Jesus in the way we love and care for our children and parents. We say “yes” upon seeing Jesus in the needy stranger before us, lending him a compassionate and helping hand. These are qualities of a true disciple of Christ. In our Gospel reading from Mathew, Jesus’ plan for his passion, death, and resurrection is criticized by St. Peter. Last week he was called Peter, “the Rock”, a solid foundation of discipleship to lead the Church. Today he is called “Satan” and an “obstacle” or stumbling block to God’s will. Once again, the Apostles prove to be a type of our own understanding and practice of discipleship. We know to love God and neighbor and can be pretty solid in that respect, but at times, due to our sin, we, like Peter, fail God by “… thinking [and doing] not as God does, but as human beings do.” Our hope for true discipleship lies in the mercy, justice, and love God has for each one of us. We become Christian disciples, not from our own will or merit, but as a gift of adoption through the Holy Spirit at baptism. How can we grow in our reliance on God’s justice and mercy? “Whoever wishes to come after me must deny himself, take up his cross, and follow me.” This is true discipleship: to forsake our sinfulness, to follow our Lord Jesus and trust in his Word and his ways, for our salvation and for the glory of God.
