25th Sunday B * September 22, 2024

25 th Sunday B

September 22, 2024

My father was often telling my brother, sister, and I, “If you can’t say something nice, don’t say anything.”  I am not sure this came from him, but he liked to say this.  As I look back on his life, it seems to me he followed this advice himself. I rarely heard him say a bad word about others.  (He may have, but maybe I have chosen not to remember those occasions.) 

As I get older it seems harder to follow this advice.  We turn on the radio or TV and someone is being critical about a politician or a political party.  It is easy to criticize the boss or someone who is in authority. The words “I could do better" slip out, without thinking about what we are saying.

In the gospel today the disciples are talking about who is the greatest.  When Jesus asks him about their conversation, they feel like the boy caught with his hand in the cookie jar.  Just as long as they thought Jesus couldn’t hear it felt ok to talk about who is greater, but once they find out Jesus heard them they are shamed into silence.

How often do we speak ill of someone else when they are not around, but would never consider doing so to their face?  Trash talk seems ok when the person is not there to defend themselves, but we are silent when they are around.  This is how a bully acts. A bully is all bluster and wind when with his cronies, but if confronted he is silent.  This was what happened to the disciples. When their words were spoken back to them they were shamed into silence.

“If you don’t have anything good to say, say nothing.”

In the section of Mark’s gospel we are reading from this month, Jesus is giving important teachings to the disciples.  This section of the gospel is the “listen up” section.  Jesus is on his way to Jerusalem and the cross and he wants to make sure his disciples can continue on without him when he is gone.

Last week Jesus spoke to the disciples about the cross, “Can you carry a cross?" 

Today we hear him speaking about what it means to be a disciple.

Mark tells us that Jesus sits down to speak with the disciples.  When a Rabbi or teacher sat down it was recognized that his words would be important.  This is the “listen up” position.

Today Jesus teaches about what it means to be a disciple.  A disciple is about service.  A disciple is like a child.  A child in the time of Jesus was one without a voice or authority.  The child was just above a slave and the child would be about helping out others.  A child would not question “who is greater”; a child knows he/she is powerless.

The disciple in Jesus’ kingdom is a disciple who thinks of the other first and is of service to others.  Pope Francis said; “if we are to be shepherds we must smell like the sheep.”  To serve is a willingness to be one with the poor and needy.

I am reminded of the words of President John Kennedy, “Ask not what your country can do for you, but ask what you can do for your country.”

Maybe part of being a disciple is making a decision to speak only the good news to others. Trash talk or criticism can be just fodder for the rumor mill.  The book we read from each week is called The Gospel, The Good News.  What we need is more good news, not trash talk.  Let us speak in such a way that we would not mind the one we were speaking about hearing what we said.

Jesus reminds us, again and again, that being a disciple is not easy.  One way we can school ourselves in discipleship is to be quiet.  We watch our words and are careful not to speak about another in a way we would not be comfortable speaking to his/her face.

My father was not perfect, but maybe he hit upon a good way to live life.

“If you can’t say anything good, don’t say anything at all.”

Twenty-sixth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year A

By Rev. Christopher Welch • September 27, 2026
In today's parable we meet two brothers; one says he will go and doesn’t, the other says he will not go and does. The listeners decide the second did his father’s will. In life we judge people not by their words but by their actions. Those who act upon their words we honor. We are given second chances to reconsider our words and decide to do what we are asked to do. Too often it is hard to say 'yes' and act upon our 'yes'. This may have been the case with the second brother, but in time he said 'yes' by his actions. I am reminded of a meditation by Michael Quoist: I am afraid of saying "Yes," Lord. Where will you take me? I am afraid of drawing the longer straw, I am afraid of signing my name to an unread agreement, I am afraid of the "yes" that entails other "yeses." And yet I am not at peace. You pursue me, Lord, you besiege me. I seek out the din for fear of hearing you, but in a moment of silence you slip through. I turn from the road, for I have caught sight of you, but at the end of the path you are there awaiting me. Where shall I hide? I meet you everywhere. Is it then impossible to escape you? But I am afraid to say "Yes," Lord. I am afraid of putting my hand in yours, for you hold on to it. I am afraid of meeting your eyes, for you can win me. I am afraid of your demands, for you are a jealous God. I am hemmed in, yet I hide. I am captured, yet I struggle, and I fight knowing that I am defeated. For you are the stronger, Lord, you own the world and you take it from me. When I stretch out my hand to catch hold of people and things, they vanish before my eyes. It's no fun, Lord, I can't keep anything for myself. The flower I pick fades in my hands. My laugh freezes on my lips. The waltz I dance leaves me restless and uneasy. Everything seems empty, Everything seems hollow, You have made a desert around me. I am hungry and thirsty, And the whole world cannot satisfy me. And yet I loved you, Lord; what have I done to you? I worked for you; I gave myself for you. O great and terrible God, What more do you want? * * * Son, I want more for you and for the world. Until now you have planned your actions, but I have no need of them. You have asked for my approval, you have asked for my support, You have wanted to interest me in your work. But don't you see, son, that you were reversing the roles? I have watched you, I have seen your good will, And I want more than you, now. You will no longer do your own works, but the will of your Father in heaven. Say "Yes," son. I need your "yes" as I needed Mary's "yes" to come to earth, For it is I who must do your work, It is I who must live in your family, It is I who must be in your neighborhood, and not you. For it is my look that penetrates, and not yours, My words that carry weight, and not yours, My life that transforms, and not yours. Give all to me, abandon all to me. I need your "yes" to be united with you and to come down to earth, I need your "yes" to continue saving the world! * * * O Lord, I am afraid of your demands, but who can resist you? That your Kingdom may come and not mine, That your will may be done and not mine, Help me to say "Yes." — Michael Quoist in Prayers

Twenty-fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year A

By Deacon Paul Cerosaletti • September 20, 2026
One of my most favorite responses I get from people when I greet them and ask “Hey, how are you?” is the response, “Better than I deserve.” There is something in that response that not only strikes a chord of humility but also of God’s generosity and mercy. Most of us have a strong sense of fairness. The response “better than I deserve” is rooted in our sense of fairness and justice, a sense that might lead us to understand, and perhaps even sympathize, with the reaction of the vineyard workers who labored all day, in the heat of the day, and yet are paid the same amount as those that worked only one hour. How is that right? But the parable we hear in the Gospel is not about what is ‘right and just’. The themes of this parable are about the lavish generosity and mercy of God and , as the Gospel always is, a challenge to examine what is going on in our own hearts — what is happening with our own conversion of heart . These two themes might come alive more for us, as God speaking directly to us, if we change one word in one verse in the parable to express what God intends for us. What if the verse, “Am I not free to do as I wish with my own money?” was instead read, “Am I not free to do as I wish with my own mercy ?” See how that changes things? We are often, so often, fixated on fairness, equity, and justice. There is nothing wrong with those concepts and virtues, except when we fail to live beyond them to generosity and mercy . We have a God who lives beyond justice, in generosity and mercy, and who calls us to do the same. You see, if we stop at fairness and justice, we find ourselves in the same place with the early laborers in the vineyard, exercising judgment on what is equitable, and in so doing end up metering generosity and mercy — not even our own generosity and mercy, but God’s! Now our response becomes, “Better than they deserve…” Our true motivations get called out by the owner of the vineyard when he says, “Are you envious because I am generous?” We end up subject to the same temptation the vineyard laborers experience, the capital sin of envy , the resentment at another’s good fortune. What instead should be the disposition of our hearts? Jesus himself tells us in a related parable about conversion of heart when he says, “There will be more joy in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous people who have no need of repentance” (Lk 15:7). Joy! We are called to fill our hearts with Joy at God’s generosity and mercy lavished upon our sisters and brothers who hear and heed a call to conversion of heart in Christ, no matter the stage in their lives; joy over one lost sheep who is found and brought home at the end of the day. Joy is the antidote of envy. Joy is our participation in the generosity and mercy of God, the fitting response to God’s generosity and mercy. And it is nothing short of an exercise of Love, which is to will the good of the other. None of us is deserving of God's generous grace and mercy. We do not merit it, nor should we meter it with our judgement, for we are all in need of it.  How are we? I hope and pray, by the grace of God, with Joy in our hearts, “Better than we deserve.”

Twenty-fourth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year A

By Rev. Christopher Welch • September 13, 2026
In the Masterpiece production of The Count of Monte Cristo , the main character is sent to prison; there he meets another prisoner who advises him, “If you seek for revenge, you should first dig two graves.” After the count achieves revenge he tells his friend, “The prisoner was right.” She responds, “Love can heal.” The readings today speak about forgiveness. Forgiveness is about choosing to love. When we forgive the other, we may not receive what we hoped for from the other. Forgiveness or love are not about the other person, but about me. There are many I will choose to love whom I do not like. Love is not simply about feelings, but love is a choice to forgive the other, means not hearing the words “I was wrong” or “I forgive you.” The choice to love may not change the other, but it will change me. One reason Jesus tells Peter to forgive 7 times 70 is that it may take time for the forgiveness to have an effect upon him. Jesus is familiar with the words of Sirach: hate not your neighbor; remember the Most High’s covenant, and overlook faults (Sir 28:7). Sometimes people will ask me why such and such is allowed to act as they do. I find myself reminding them that it is God who judges. King David knew he had done wrong, yet he was able to write the words of Psalm 103 — The Lord is kind and merciful, slow to anger, and rich in compassion — the psalm for today’s Mass. For the many things he did as pope, Pope Francis may be best remembered for a short phrase: "who am I to judge?" When asked who he was, Pope Francis responded, “I am a sinner.” We all have people in our lives who we would like to punish to seek revenge, but the better way is to forgive from our heart. When we forgive, we leave the judging to our God. Remember, it is “love that can heal.”