Following is the prepared text from Bishop Olmsted’s homily for the 27th Sunday of Ordinary Time.

 

October 4, 2020

Have no anxiety at all,” St. Paul tells us in our Second Reading (Phil 4:6). And Jesus frequently taught, “Do not worry” (Cf. Mt 6:25ff). Much easier said than done. My Grandmother never tried until she was 81. She was convinced she had a duty to worry. Years ago, just before departing for 4 years of study in Rome, Grandma told me, “I know I’ll never see you again. And I don’t know what will happen to our family. I’m the only one who worries. Who’s going to worry about them when I am gone?” To any who asked Grandma’s advice, she’d say “Keep busy and work hard.” Deep down, I think, she knew hard work wasn’t enough. But not being a woman of faith, the only thing she felt obliged to do, in addition to work, was worry. The trouble is – worry was no help to anyone. It distracted her from building good relationships and made it harder to lift her eyes to God.

St. Teresa of Avila, who encountered many hardships in her reform of the Carmelites, struggled with anxiety. She found herself telling Jesus, “Lord, if this is how you treat your friends, it’s no surprise that you have so few!” With God’s grace and good spiritual direction, however, Teresa learned the total waste of worry. Eventually, when facing hardships and humiliating setbacks, she learned to say,

Lord, I know by faith that you are with me. Whatever happens, then, let me trust you are at work here–healing wounds, freeing the soul of sin, purifying the heart, accomplishing things far greater than I can see.”

Teresa learned that the remedy for worry is to (Mt 6:33) “seek first the Kingdom of God.” Then, whatever we need will be given us by God.

In the parable Jesus tells in today’s Gospel (Matthew 21:33-43), there is an increasing spiral of violence by the tenants of the vineyard. Each successive scene is marked by ever more shocking hostility. In the first scene, the tenants seize the servants of the landowner. They beat one, stone another, and kill a third. In the second scene, more servants are sent. These are treated even more harshly.  In the third scene, the landowner sends his only son, thinking they will at least respect his son. But they seize him, too, throw him out of the vineyard and kill him.

Notice how Jesus calls our attention, not to the tenants and their spiraling violence, but to the landowner, who represents God the Father in this allegorical parable. At no point does the landowner resort to violence. He does not exact an eye for an eye or a tooth for a tooth. On the contrary, at every point, he seeks to overcome evil with good.

After telling the parable, Jesus tests His listeners to see what they have learned. He asks: “What will the owner of the vineyard do to those tenants when he comes?” They answered Him, “He will put those wretched men to a wretched death and lease his vineyard to other tenants.” Notice that they focus only on the violence and treachery of the tenants, totally disregarding the landowner’s mercy. So, they reply: “He will put those wretched men to a wretched death…” But that is not how the landowner responded, nor is it how God the Father has acted down through history, in response to all the violence and injustice of His chosen people.

Quite the opposite, He keeps sending more servants to them, like Jeremiah, Hosea, Elijah, and other prophets. Even though they were repeatedly mistreated, in the fullness of time, He sent His own beloved Son, not to condemn the world but to redeem it, by His suffering, death and Resurrection. As the innocent Lamb of God, He took away our sins and shame; He overcame violence with forgiveness, taking on Himself the punishment we deserve and ushering in the Kingdom of God.

When you and I hear of terrible violence, how do we react? Is our response shaped by of our faith in God?  When conflict arises within our families, or when disdain for human dignity clouds the horizon of our culture, do we give in to anxiety and worry? It is tempting to do so, but not helpful. Much better is to make the prayer of St. Faustina our own, “Jesus, I trust in you.”

Relying on God’s mercy, we can put into practice the advice of St. Paul to the Philippians (4:6ff):

Have no anxiety at all, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, make your requests known to God. Then the peace of God that surpasses all understanding will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus.”

My Grandmother was 81 years of age when my Grandfather died. Over the next 16 years of her life, she began, ever so slowly, to let go of her worrying, because the light of faith began to dawn in her life. I remember the letter she wrote me after my grandfather’s death. It was the first time she ever mentioned God; the first time she signed her letter, “With love and prayers” as I had always closed my letters to her. Far more telling that these, she even said something positive about Catholics! She wrote, “When your grandfather died, I received 240 letters and cards—all but 40 were from “Catholics!” I have discovered that Catholics know how to deal with death.”

Jesus never ceases to seek us out. His mercy is a wondrous reality that frees us from our worry. While the world returns violence for violence, Christ responds with forgiveness and love. He tells us, “Seek first the Kingdom of God and all else will be given you besides.”