Eighteenth Sunday of Ordinary Time

Lectionary: 114

‘You fool, this night your life will be demanded of you; and the things you have prepared, to whom will they belong?’
Thus will it be for all who store up treasure for themselves but are not rich in what matters to God.”

(I will give a similar homily to two churches in the Cincinnati area this weekend.)

What a terrific gospel to kick off a sermon on supporting the Franciscan missions! I can hardly think of a better one!

First, it's a story of a man who has too much stuff. Americans, of course, don’t have to build barns; we just rent a storage bin, or two, or several; and then keep adding to the inventory of useless stuff we’ll want our children or relatives to keep for all eternity, in memory of us.

Today's gospel concludes with a severe warning, "Thus will it be for all who store up treasure for themselves but are not rich in what matters to God.”

Among the many crises the United States faces today, the most personal and intense, and perhaps the least appreciated, is the plague of loneliness. Believing strange, unrealistic notions of freedom and personal liberty, millions prefer isolation to companionship. They do not want to be a bother to other people; and do not want to be bothered by other people.

They have often surrendered to bad habits like drinking, smoking, and sitting idly before a television screen or computer monitor. Their only companions are animals, dogs and cats, since they trust no one and have lost touch with their families.

But they have stuff which piles up around them, or they keep in storage bins. They prefer their stuff to friends, family, and neighbors. Somehow they want those things -- along with their pets -- to replace people. If they have a life at all, it’s in the virtual world of the Internet. (a world without virtue)

As we hear this gospel about ownership and property, I think of four kinds of ownership: First, there are the things we have purchased out of our own means. They might be clothes, computers, cars, houses, or whatever. They might be sports equipment or books or pictures. They’re important so long as they’re useful, but we quickly forget about them when we stop using them. Things only a hoarder could love. Out of sight, out of mind, forgettable, and forgotten. If they’re lost, destroyed, or stolen, we hardly notice.

More important are those things we’ve been given. They carry relational meaning for us, especially when they were given by someone we care about. Even if we don’t use them we’re reluctant to give them up because they still have meaning; they’re gifts and cannot be surrendered.

And then there are those things which we co-own with others. A man might give his four year old son a ball. The boy handles it for a moment but then his dad says, “Now toss it here, Son.” “But you just gave it to me.” “Yes, but it’s a ball, Son, and it’s not a ball if we don’t play with it. It’s something we toss back and forth between us. It belongs to both of us.”

When we co-own something, we may have complete use of a car or a house but we’re charged with maintaining them and keeping them nice and presentable should the other owners ask about them. These may have enormous importance for us because relationships are very important. Even when the other party dies we're reluctant to let the possession go.

And finally, there is what our Catholic faith calls an oblation. During the First Eucharistic Prayer, the priest says:

Therefore, Lord, we pray:
graciously accept this oblation of our service,
that of your whole family,
which we make to you.

The Father has given us his Son, and we give the Son back to the Father as he gives himself to God and to us. Plus, the Son has given us to his Father especially through the Sacrifice of the Mass. By eating his flesh and drinking his blood we become one with the Son who says, “Father, into your hands I commend my spirit.”

By the oblation of the Mass we become gifts, not just to ourselves but to each other. We become somebody: a son or daughter, a brother or sister, a husband or wife, a priest or consecrated person of God. I am a neighbor when I care about my neighbors, and a friend when I enjoy the gift of friendship with others.

With today’s collection for the missions, I ask you to share your gift of faith with people around the world, especially with our Franciscan missions in Zambia, Central America, and India; and with the Roman Catholic Church around the world. You contribute money to them because you have money to give; they share faith with you because their churches are growing.

As you may know, the Catholic Church is growing deeper in many countries. When I entered the seminary, over sixty years ago, I learned about our American missionaries in Northern Rhodesia. Later, we sent missionaries, including some of my classmates, to Honduras and Central America. We cannot send them missionaries anymore; we’re too old. But they are now sending missionaries to the United States from Zambia, Central America, and India. As Saint Paul said,

...your surplus at the present time should supply their needs,

so that their surplus may also supply your needs,

that there may be equality.

As it is written:

“Whoever had much did not have more,

and whoever had little did not have less.

We truly own only the things we give to others, and our most precious gift is not our stuff or our money, nor our time, nor our bodies. It’s the Catholic Faith which we have given to, and have received from, more than a billion people throughout the world. As we give to them, they give to us, that there may be equality.