Today’s readings invite us to consider the covenant bond we have with others. Biblical covenant is a communal concept and a commitment that emerges from a society which insists on mutual responsibility. Righteousness is a covenant term and a quality that is shared with us by means of our covenant bond with a merciful and compassionate God. Paul challenges Timothy, and us, to pursue this righteousness, along with devotion, faith, love, patience and gentleness. Some of these virtues focus on our relationship with God, but most of them are directed toward our relationship with others. Those who are less fortunate remain our sisters and brothers. If we take lightly our covenant obligations and allow them to languish at our gates, we will have only ourselves to blame, finding ourselves having to face the judgment of God.
In the gospel, the steward is praised for his prudence because he recognises that his future will not be secured by gathering up his commissions [or more], his part of the rich man’s wealth. Instead, he uses the wealth to make friends who will welcome him and support him in the future. Jesus taught, and Catholic social teaching has long emphasized, that a successful human life is not measured by the accumulation of wealth or power. The ‘good life’ is the fruit of strong and loving relationships, bonds of friendship and justice, and commitment to community wellbeing. ‘Mammon’ means ‘what we trust in’. Jesus is uncompromising: we cannot put our trust in both God and money. The severe socioecological crisis in these times makes very clear how pursuing and valuing a practical idolatry of wealth, above all else, threatens and destroys God’s gifts in creation. It betrays our sacred mission to care for creation and to share it in gratitude and love.
Today we concentrate on the power of the cross in our lives. It is the ultimate demonstration of the nature of God. Christ gave of himself even to death on the cross. We stand before the glorious cross and praise God for God’s incomprehensible goodness toward us. God’s graciousness is poured out indiscriminately and prodigally, as only profound love can be given. Such is the nature of our God, and the cross is the symbol of this nature. It was through the cross that Jesus conquered sin and death and won for us access to God. It is through the cross that we die to sin and rise to new life in Christ. As painful as life’s crosses may be, they serve to transform us. It can be our hope in the midst of pain and suffering and brokenness, because it promises to carry us into new life. Through the goodness of God, which has been poured out for us, we have been granted eternal life. It is incomprehensible to think that death is the way to life, but that is the message of this feast. The cross, which is a sign of shame and misery, is now a symbol of glory and exaltation.
Once again, we come together as a global family to start preparing for the Season of Creation 2025—a time of deep prayer, action, and advocacy to care for our common home. From September 1, the World Day of Prayer for Creation, to October 4, the Feast of Saint Francis of Assisi, we will unite in hope and commitment to restore peace with Creation. Isaiah paints a stark image of a world wounded by human injustice, a creation crying out for peace. This vision resonates deeply with us: our planet is suffering, and yet, we believe in the promise of renewal and restoration. Our call is to be active agents of change — praying, acting, and transforming our way of living in communion with creation and the Creator. As Pope Francis reminded us during the Jubilee of Volunteering: “In the deserts of poverty and loneliness, all those small gestures are helping to make a new humanity blossom in the garden that is God’s dream, always and everywhere, for all of us.” This Season of Creation, let us walk together in metanoia (repentance), to build peace, to restore our relationships, and to help God’s creation blossom.
The goodness of God is seen in the extravagant generosity with which God gives gifts. This is described in the psalm in the boundlessness and universal scope of God’s generosity. Like the rain that falls on the entire landscape, the blessings of God are showered on all. These blessings are true gifts. They have not been earned, nor can they be repaid. However, only the humble can receive the gifts of God. Only those who can admit their neediness are open enough to realise that God’s blessings are gifts freely given, not compensation for a job well done. Without a humble spirit we are unable to receive gifts as gifts. And just as we have received from the bounty of God, so we are called to give to others. Only those who have received with a humble spirit can give with the generosity of God, for they know that they do not deserve God’s goodness and they do not require anything in return.
The vision of a disciple must be the vision of God. Disciples must see with wide angled lenses that enable them to recognise that God offers the grace of salvation to all. The passages from both Isaiah and Luke are astounding in their inclusivity. They show that God’s saving grace is unbounded. It reaches out to those whom the people of God may not only distrust but sometimes even despise. The psalm refrain is the command to go out to the whole world. The first reading describes God sending fugitives back home to get their relatives. People are gathered into the community of the saved primarily because others have been sent out to get them. Today that command is directed to us. We are the ones who are being sent out to bring others to God. All Christians are called to the task of spreading the good news of the gospel. This is not an option; it is a responsibility.
As disciples we commit ourselves to values and principles that are not always cherished by others. We can be misunderstood for our beliefs, even ridiculed. Our lives may be a reproach to those who do not share our aspirations. There may be times when we must stand in opposition to others. All of this tends to alienate us. It could even place us at enmity with those whom we love. Yet, if we are genuinely committed, we realise that there is also a price to pay if we are not faithful. It is very difficult to live with ourselves when we disregard our deepest convictions and ignore the promptings of God that we experience within ourselves. As difficult as a life of faith may be, we know that it is the only way to live in this world. Faced with the cost of discipleship we are brought to the realisation that, by ourselves, we do not have the necessary resources. We need support and assistance from Jesus who came to set the world and our hearts on fire.
While we live in the expectation of the coming of God in the future, we also live now in the presence of God. This means that God is present with us now, as a companion in our lives. It also means that this presence is the context within which our lives unfold. However, until all things are brought to fulfilment, we live in this presence by faith. Faith and hope are intimately joined. As believers we are called to trust in the promises of God, even when what is promised seems impossible. We are assured that we will be blessed, but we can never be sure of the exact nature of the blessing. In faith, we put our trust in God and then carry out our responsibilities. In faith we wait for the Lord, who is our help and our shield, not really knowing under what guise he will come to us. Faith is both the cost of living as a disciple and the reward.
Our tradition tells us that “the earth and all that is in it belongs to God” (Psalm 24). In these times of planetary vulnerability, there is some urgency about the call to place our trust in the goodness of a generous God, to reduce our ecological footprint and to acknowledge that the good things of the earth belong to God and to all of God’s people, not just to the privileged few. In refusing to “store up treasure” for our own selfish ends, we become forever “rich toward God”. This applies to nation-states as well as to individuals. We have some responsibility for what is done in our name, for the size and deployment of our foreign aid budget for instance. The command to “be on your guard, be ever vigilant” in this respect is a demand for gospel justice.
The readings invite us to reflect on prayer. Whether our prayer be praise, contrition, thanksgiving or petition, it always recognises our need for God. In the gospel Jesus instructs us to ask for what we need. He assures us that God is more than willing to give us what we need. However, for this to happen we must turn to God and humbly acknowledge our need. The most obvious characteristic of prayer depicted in the readings for this Sunday is persistence. They show that it is not so much that we persist in prayer in order to change God’s mind as it is that we persist in order to discover what God’s mind might be. The salutariness of prayer is often found in the change that it effects in us, not in God. By persevering in genuine prayer we may come to acknowledge that all things are in God’s hands, and that we can rest content to leave them there, trusting that the situation will be cared for as God sees fit. Prayer can change the one who prays and also the one for whom the prayer is offered if only human need is recognised and divine solicitude is acknowledged.