Bishop Barron’s Sunday Sermons - Catholic Preaching and Homilies

Friends, in our second reading this Sunday, Paul tells the church of Philippi, “Have no anxiety at all.” It’s hard to imagine that Paul—who was shipwrecked many times, beaten within an inch of his life, threatened and harassed and persecuted and opposed, and finally arrested, dragged to Rome, and decapitated—never experienced any anxiety. So what does he mean? What he says next is the clue: “But in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, make your requests known to God.”

Friends, our second reading, a passage from the second chapter of Paul to the Philippians, is one of the master texts in the New Testament. It’s not only ancient and poetic but also substantive; indeed, in some ways, it lays out the whole of Christianity. Adapting an early Christian hymn, Paul presents the answer to Adam’s grasp at divinity—namely, the self-emptying love of God.

Friends for this Twenty-fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time, we hear a story from Jesus that tends to bother everybody: the parable of the laborers in the vineyard. We’re meant to hear our own voices in the complaint of these workers. Dealing with God, we often think things are unfair. Why does he do what he does? I’d like to get at this with a clarification that comes out of the heart of the spiritual tradition: You don’t fall in love with the benefits of God; you fall in love with God.

Friends, our Gospel for this Twenty-fourth Sunday in Ordinary Time is the familiar story of Peter asking the Lord how many times he should forgive his brother: “As many as seven times?” Jesus responds, “Not seven times but seventy-seven times.” I want to get at this passage by looking at the second reading, taken from the Letter of Saint Paul to the Romans, which sheds distinctive light on it. When we are clear about our mission—when we know that we belong to the Lord—we can let go of resentments and harms done to us, and get on with the business of our lives!

Friends, for the wokeist philosophy that dominates today, empathy—feeling the feelings of the other and not harming those feelings—is treated as a supreme value. But while empathy is perfectly good and decent, the Bible teaches that love, not empathy, is the supreme value. And love does not mean, primarily, feeling the feelings of the other or not hurting those feelings; it means willing the good of the other—and that can be, as Dostoevsky said, “a harsh and dreadful thing.”