Putting Off for Tomorrow.

Homily for the Nineteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time

August 10, 2025

 

I came across a poem that made me stop and think. It’s called Tomorrow.

 

He was going to be all that he wanted to be—Tomorrow.

None would be kinder or braver than he—Tomorrow.

A friend who was troubled and weary, he knew,

Who’d be glad for a lift, and who needed it too,

On him he would call and see what he could do—Tomorrow.

Each morning, he stacked up the letters he’d write—Tomorrow.

And thought of the folks he would fill with delight—Tomorrow. …

The greatest of disciples this man would have been—Tomorrow.

The world would have hailed him if he had seen—Tomorrow.

But, in fact, he passed on, and he faded from view,

And all that he left here when he was through,

Was a mountain of things he wanted to do—Tomorrow!

 

In today’s Gospel Jesus advises his disciples to be “like servants who await their master’s return from a wedding, ready to open immediately when he comes and knocks. Blessed are those servants whom the master finds vigilant on his arrival.”

 

A little later on, he adds, “You also must be prepared, for at an hour you do not expect, the Son of Man will come.”

 

Do you have a tendency to procrastinate, to put things off? I thought about that the other day, concluded that I had been procrastinating, and decided to do something about it: I scheduled long over-do appointments to update my will, have an eye exam, and see a specialist my regular dentist wanted me to consult with. Just making these appointments gave me a sense that I was taking control of my life.

 

Of course, Jesus is talking about our spiritual life, our taking care of what is truly most important: our relationship with God, our love of God, and our love of one another. He’s asking us not to put that off, not to let things slide. “You also must be prepared,” he says, “for at an hour you do not expect, the Son of Man will come.”

 

So, concerning our spiritual life, I made a list of things for us to consider:

·      A regular time each day for prayer and Bible reading

·      When was the last time for confession

·      Donation of food for the poor

·      Visiting a sick friend or lonely neighbor

·      Forgiving / asking for forgiveness

·      Working for justice / fairness

·      Speaking up for the voiceless

·      Demonstrating about the abuse of political power

 

This is a pretty broad list. We may not be comfortable with some of the things on the list. But these are positive ways in which we can grow personally, help the community in its mission, and reach out to those who are hurting. And I’m not talking about a one-time thing; I’m speaking of a way of life—a life lived with God in it. And, as we listen to the urgency of the Gospel, I’m not talking about tomorrow.

 

The Dali Lama famously taught that there are two days on which we can do nothing: yesterday, for it’s gone; and tomorrow; for it’s not here. That leaves today.

You might also like

Father's Homilies

By Charlene Currie December 17, 2025
Is It Right?
By Charlene Currie December 4, 2025
How Far Do You Want to Go?
By Charlene Currie November 28, 2025
Prairie Chickens and Eagles Homily for the Solemnity of Our Lord Jesus Christ, King of the Universe November 23, 2025 An American Indian tells about a brave who found an eagle’s egg and put it into the nest of a prairie chicken. The eaglet hatched with the brood of chicks and grew up with them. All its life the changeling eagle, thinking it was a prairie chicken, did what the other prairie chickens did. It scratched in the dirt for seeds and insects to eat. It clucked and cackled. And it flew in a brief thrashing of wings and flurry of feathers no more than a few feet off the ground. After all, that’s how prairie chickens were supposed to fly. Years passed, and the changeling grew very old. One day it saw a magnificent bird soaring far above in the cloudless sky. Hanging with graceful majesty on the powerful wind currents, it soared with scarcely a beat of its strong golden wings. “What a beautiful bird!” said the changeling eagle to its neighbor. “What is it?” “That’s an eagle—the chief of the birds,” the neighbor clucked. “But don’t give it a second thought. You could never be like him.” So, the changeling eagle never gave it another thought. And it died thinking it was a prairie chicken. Today, we are celebrating the fact that Jesus Christ is the King of all God’s creation. And yet, it is strange that the gospel passage chosen for this feast is the scene of Jesus’ crucifixion. Notice how weak he is. Consider how he is laughed at and made fun of. “He saved others, let him save himself if he is the chosen one, the Christ of God….If you are the King of the Jews, save yourself.” So, the problem is one of expectations. The bystanders were looking for an eagle, and all they saw before them was a prairie chicken! And yet, at the end of the gospel, this prairie chicken seems to have some power that prairie chickens don’t normally have. When Jesus is asked by the thief being crucified with him, “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom,” Jesus replies, “Amen, I say to you, today you will be with me in Paradise.” Hardly a promise that could be made by a prairie chicken! What’s going on here? I’d like to refer us to a passage we find in the writings of St. Paul, a section of his letter to the Philippians that is the second reading on Palm Sunday, when we reflect on the crucifixion of Jesus. Here it is: “Christ Jesus, though he was in the form of God, did not regard equality with God something to be grasped. Rather, he emptied himself, taking the form of a slave, coming in human likeness; and found human in appearance, he humbled himself, becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross. Because of this, God greatly exalted him and bestowed on him the name which is above every name, that at the name of Jesus every knee should bend, of those in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father.” Jesus taught the way of humility and service. He came to raise others up, especially those who were bowed down by poverty or prejudice. He taught that there was no greater love than to lay down one’s life for the love of others. Greatness is found not in building oneself up at the expense of others, but in building up others, especially those who need it the most. So, Jesus emptied himself, to the point of looking like a prairie chicken, and in doing so he showed us the way to the eternal kingdom by means of humble service, that we might become who we truly are, eagles destined to soar beyond the clouds.