August 31, 2026
Paulist Fr. Rich Andre preached this homily for the 22nd Sunday of Ordinary Time (Year A) on August 30, 2026 at Old St. Mary’s Catholic Church and St. Gabriel’s Catholic Church in Chicago, IL. The homily is based on the day’s readings: Jeremiah 20:7-9; Psalm 63; Romans 12:1-2; and Matthew 16:21-27.
For the third time in four weeks, we hear about St. Peter in our gospel. Peter – who had faith sufficient to take a few steps on the stormy water, who received the grace to recognize Jesus as God’s anointed one – fails to accept that Jesus must suffer and die for the salvation of the world.
But as Jesus further explains how we must deny ourselves, how we must lose our lives in order to save them, let us not hear this as a passage of gloom and doom. Many of us here have made choices in our lives because we recognize the reality of which Jesus speaks. In our first two readings and in our psalm today, we hear not only of the necessity of making sacrifices for God, but also of the joy in anticipating our union with God. And with God, there is mercy.
Lord Jesus, you are the Word that burns like fire within our hearts: Lord, have mercy.
You direct our hearts to discern what is good, pleasing, and perfect in your sight: Christ, have mercy.
You promise that whoever loses their life for your sake will find it: Lord, have mercy.
May almighty God have mercy on us, forgive our sins, and bring us to everlasting life. Amen.
For decades, I heard this passage as a declaration that no human beings were truly capable of giving their lives for others. Whenever I heard this passage, I thought that the proper response to it was to feel unworthy.
But then, in the seminary, I had an epiphany. Many people give their lives for others. Parents sacrifice sleep for their infants, sacrifice gasoline and free time for their tweens, sacrifice dignity for their teenagers, and sacrifice oodles of money at every stage of the parenting process. Why do they do it? Because they find abundance in their own lives by sacrificing for their children. Other people also understand the wisdom of losing one’s life for Christ. Some people dedicate their careers to the helping professions. Others sacrifice their money and time for worthy causes. Professors and graduate students devote years to research that advances our knowledge of the world. Even Jeremiah, the reluctant prophet, felt a life-giving fire within him, forcing him to proclaim God’s message.
Whenever we give our lives in some way, we are making a commitment. A commitment is saying “yes” to something we value. But we live in a society that is afraid of making commitments… because saying “yes” to one option means that we are saying “no” to other possibilities. A number of years ago, the comic newspaper The Onion published a fake article about a 31-year-old guy who supposedly had never made a commitment in his entire life. He had never responded to an RSVP in case a better offer came along, he had never had a serious relationship, and even every weekday at 11:30 am, he wouldn’t commit whether he’d go to lunch with his coworkers at noon. Even The Onion preaches what Jesus does: keeping all of our options open does not lead to a glamorous life. “Whoever wishes to save their life will lose it.”
But on the other hand, our society and our Church can sometimes have an unhealthy fixation on milestones. Life can feel like a series of checkboxes: graduate from a prestigious school, get a good job, find a life partner, buy a nice house, raise beautiful children. Sometimes, it feels as if society expects everyone to accomplish each of these goals by a certain age, whether or not they have the financial resources, whether or not they have obligations to other loved ones, whether or not they need to tend to their own physical, emotional, or spiritual healing, or whether or not they’ve determined who God calls them to be.
At some points in our lives, it makes less sense to make a commitment and more sense to commit to discerning about what commitments we should make in the future. Not all college students need to be certain of their majors the first week of their freshmen year, but they may want to “test out” a major by shadowing a professional or getting an internship by the end of their sophomore year. Not everyone needs to get married by their mid-20s, but no one that age should be dating jerks with whom they have no future.
We are constantly becoming the people God calls us to be. As St. Paul wrote: “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.” Or, as Evelyn and James Whitehead wrote:
A vocation is not a once-and-for-all call in young adulthood (to follow this career or enter this particular lifestyle). It is a lifelong conversation with God. Like any rich conversation, it is patterned by periods of spiritual exchange, times of strain and argument, and intervals of silence…. To be faithful… requires that we remain in the conversation.
[Pause.] Throughout my life, I’ve made all kinds of sacrifices and commitments. Did I feel sure at every moment that my commitments to practice music, to study science, and to talk with a spiritual director were part of God’s plan for me? No. But when I consider the marvelous performance opportunities I’ve had, my twelve years in optical engineering, and the revelations I’ve received in prayer, it’s clear that each of these commitments has helped me to save my life, not to lose it.
Last week in Washington, DC, the three current Paulist students — Marvin Ruano (who served at Old St. Mary’s this summer), Andrew Ouma (who served at Old St. Mary’s last summer), and Joseph Solomon (who’s originally from Joliet) — renewed their promise, their commitment, to live by the Paulist constitution for the next 12 months as they continue their studies. At that same Mass, two other men signed into to begin their novitiate with the Paulists — a time to explore if this odd and wondrous calling might be for them, too. And this coming week is the 15-year anniversary of when my two classmates and I gave our lives in a profound, irrevocable way by making our final promise to the Paulist Fathers and were ordained as deacons. What’s unusual about religious life, however, is that many people fixate on the “losing” required of this commitment rather than on the “saving.” Sure, those of us in religious life give up having financial wealth, a family, and independence, but we also have the privilege of journeying with people in powerful ways. We live with a sense of purpose that many people only dream of having.
None of us can have it all. Let us not give in to the myths and advertisements that claim that we can. Instead, let us continually talk with God about which opportunities are worth sacrificing for. Even when we’re not sure what God has planned for us, let us commit to one possibility whenever it makes sense to do so until the path becomes clearer. Then we will be good and pleasing and perfect as living sacrifices to God.