Homily for the Twenty-fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year C [Evangelii Gaudium Sunday]

Many years ago, in fact it might have been before I was born, one of my uncles was visiting Birmingham and decided to buy some apples.  He went to the market stall, picked the ones he liked, put them in the bag, paid for them and off he went.  Later on, on the bus, he opened the bag, only to find the market-seller had swapped his bag for another one of, shall we say, old and not so appealing apples.  He had been conned.  And he wasn’t too pleased.

It’s a bit like the traders in the first reading.  They want to be able to sell everything, even the chaff of the wheat, and make as much money as possible, even if it means tampering with the scales and using false weights.  For them, money comes first, and their fellow human beings have to suffer the consequences.  It’s hardly virtuous behaviour.

Today we celebrate Evangelii Gaudium Sunday, which used to be called Home Mission Sunday.  The change of name comes from Pope Francis’ encyclical letter on evangelisation, called Evangelii Gaudium, which translates as “the joy of the Gospel”.  If we are miserable-looking, sour-faced and perhaps bored, we won’t attract many people to Christ, and the same is true if people find that money, not the Lord, is our God.  So how should we use money?  What should be our approach?  Let’s take a look at the Gospel.

The manager in the parable has gotten himself into a bit of trouble.  He’s about to lose his job.  We don’t know whether he was simply not very good at his job, or whether it was deliberate syphoning off of his master’s money.  But now, as he sees the writing on the wall, he decides to do people a few favours, in the hope that when he hits hard times, they will feel that they owe him.  How much effort some people put into acquiring wealth, property, status and so on!  Surely, if the Lord, not money, is our God, then why don’t we spend at least the same sort of effort on finding ingenious ways to lead others to Him?

Now that I’ve made you all feel guilty, yes, we do need to think at least about the witness that we give.  One of the most famous quotes from the Bible, from the New Testament, is that “the love of money is a root of all kinds of evils” (1 Tim 6:10).  The quote continues:  “It is through this craving that some have wandered away from the faith”, so we do need to be careful and also to make sure that people don’t find the same bad practices inside the church as they find outside.

Rather, the vision needs to be that money is our servant, not our master.  Someone once said to me of alcohol, that it is a good servant, but a terrible master.  The same can be true of money.  If we use it appropriately, it can fund great things.  If used wisely, it can achieve even more:  “Give a man a fish and you’ll feed him for a day.  Teach a man to fish and you’ll feed him for life.”  Some years ago, when another of Pope Francis’ encyclicals came out, Laudato si’, on the care of our common home, some people were annoyed because the Pope made the point that we should use our wealth to help others, rather than keeping it all to ourselves and leaving the poor to fend for themselves [see especially para. 93].  But if we wind back the clock to the nineteenth century, Pope Leo XIII saw how the poor were being exploited in industrial towns in an unfair distribution of wealth, so he wrote a landmark encyclical Rerum novarum, which translates as “On new things”.  At the time, the big question was whether Catholics could join trade unions.  Pope Leo said yes, and that had a major impact on getting the trade union movement off the ground and bringing people out of poverty.

But even good movements can be led astray.  In the twentieth century, there were occasions when it seemed that unions held companies or even countries to ransom – their desire for power and wealth exceeded appropriate boundaries.  “You cannot serve God and money.”

There’s the story of two misers who are walking past a Catholic church, and they see a sign:  “£80 for every person who converts”.  “What do you think about that?” the one asks the other.  The second one says he is isn’t too keen.  So the first one goes into the church, and then comes out half an hour later.  “Did you become a Catholic?” the second one asks the first.  “Yes I did”, he replies.  “And did you get your £80?”  The new convert replies:  “Is that all you every think about?”

Curious about exploring things further?  If you would like to ask further questions about the topics raised in these homilies (or maybe think it wasn’t explained too well!), please feel free to e-mail Fr Michael at stjoseph.thame@rcaob.org.uk