Homily for the Twenty-sixth Sunday in Ordinary Time

September 28, 2025



 Are We Really Listening to What We Hear?

There was a woman who believed she had a hearing problem. Her friends kept telling her she had a problem. She was always asking them to repeat what had been said in a conversation.

 

The woman made an appointment with an audiologist to check out her hearing problems. The doctor told her that he had the latest diagnostic technology, but that he preferred using his old reliable test first. So, the doctor took out his railroad pocket watch.

 

Seated across from the woman, the doctor held up the watch and asked her if she could hear the watch’s ticking. “Sure, just fine,” she replied. So, the doctor got up, walked behind her and asked if she could hear it now. Again, she gave an affirmative response. The doctor then walked across the office, standing about twenty feet away and asked if the ticking could still be heard. The woman replied that she heard it easily. Finally, the doctor walked out the door so he was out of sight, and asked if she could still hear the watch. Again, the woman said that she heard it clearly.

 

The doctor returned to his chair, putting the old, reliable watch back in his pocket. Looking at the woman, he gave her his diagnosis. “Your hearing is perfect,” the doctor said. “Your problem is not in your hearing; you just don’t know how to listen.”

 

At the end of Jesus’ story in today’s gospel, the wealthy man begs Abraham to send Lazarus to his father’s house, where he has five brothers, to give them a warning lest they end up in the same place where he is.

 

Abraham replies that they have all the warning they need through the holy persons of their history, Moses and the prophets. In other words, they have all the warning they need.

 

Then, there’s a final plea, to have someone to return from the dead—that would surely get their attention. And, ironically, Abraham replies, “If they will not listen to Moses and the prophets, neither will they be persuaded if someone should rise from the dead.”

 

Here’s what’s ironic: in the Resurrection, Jesus himself does indeed return from the dead. That’s at the heart of our faith—something we proclaim, something we reflect on, every time we gather here in church.

 

What makes Jesus’ story particularly sad, I think, is that the poor, starving beggar was right at the rich man’s gate. The rich man might have tripped over him, going in and out of his house. Yet, he never gave it a second thought. He had surely heard the teaching of Moses and the prophets every time he went to the synagogue. There, he would have heard the constant plea to take care of the widows, orphans and strangers in his midst. The problem is that he may have heard, but he never really listened.

 

And now, the story is placed before us. When we see someone who is poor, someone in obvious misery, someone who asks for our help, do we really see what’s happening, do we really listen to what the Bible teaches over and over again. Do we do anything to make the fate of the poor and the marginalized any better?

 

One of our problems, I think, as a nation, is that we’re not really listening to the clear teaching of the Bible. We now have an official policy that anyone who looks different can be picked up by masked enforcement officials, and taken away from family, job and community without any due process. A whole subgroup of our population is being stigmatized, and paying a horrible price, for the simple reason that they are not white.

 

So, we’ve heard the story. The poor beggar, the one from the lower class, the one who makes a scene by publicly begging—he’s the one who ends up in heavenly glory. The rich man was condemned, not so much for his wealth, as his indifference. He may have heard, but he didn’t really listen.

 

Some may say, “Whoa! You’re getting into politics now. You shouldn’t be saying these things in a church.” To that I would reply that even politics has a moral side to it. I’m using the gospel to apply Jesus’ teaching. I’m trying not just to hear, but to truly listen. The poor beggar is the hero of the story; he’s done nothing wrong. It’s the indifference and lack of compassion, the cruelty and hard-heartedness of the rich man that is condemned. When we look at what’s happening in our world, does the teaching of Jesus really matter? Are we just hearing, or really listening?

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