Worthy of Wisdom

Note: this homily is for a children’s Mass

Many years ago, when I was living in Kenya, the community recognized certain people among them as the mzee, the elders. People that had not only lived a long life, but were recognized as having garnered wisdom from their life – from the difficulties, the mistakes, the successes – and now carried the treasure of that experience as wisdom that was available to the tribe. When people needed advice about an important decision or a difficult problem, they went to the wazee of the community.

What about us? To whom do we go if we have a difficult problem. If I have a pastoral dilemma I probably won’t go to Kindergarten to ask the students there for advice. I will go to chat with Fr. Jim or Fr. Chris. That’s me, what about you? You might ask your parents, your grandparents, or your teachers or a coach.

And yet, in today’s first reading, St. Paul tells us something surprising. He says that God sometimes chooses people whom the world considers weak or unimportant to show us something about His wisdom. And that includes children – perhaps even kindergarten kids.  Not because children know more than adults. There are lots of things you still need to learn. But it does mean that you have something to teach us. Let me give you an example.

Imagine that a new student comes to school. The student doesn’t know anyone. At lunchtime, everyone is sitting with their friends, talking and laughing. But the new student is sitting alone. I know that often adults will encourage students to sit with the new kids, but perhaps the adults are busy. Then one of you notices.

You simply walk over and say, “Would you like to sit with us?” It might seem like a very small thing.

But think about what just happened. You noticed someone whom others had overlooked. You recognized that someone needed a friend. And you did something about it. That’s a kind of wisdom.

And it brings us to today’s Gospel. Jesus tells us that when we care for someone who is hungry, lonely, sick, or in need, we are caring for Him. Jesus is telling us that sometimes we encounter him in people we might not even notice.

And perhaps that’s something children can teach adults, remind us when you notice things we miss. When you notice when someone is sad or being left out. When you notice when something isn’t fair. And when you take action – even as simple as “Would you like to sit with us?”

Of course, children don’t always get it right. Neither do adults. We all have things to learn. But here’s what I want you to remember. God doesn’t have to wait until you’re grown up before he can work through you.

You don’t have to be the smartest person in the room, or the strongest, or the oldest. You simply have to be willing to notice the people around you and respond with kindness and love.

As it says in the Book of Wisdom, Wisdom “makes her own rounds, seeking those worthy of her.” St. Paul reminds us that Wisdom finds the children worthy. So, be attentive to those around you. Because sometimes the wisest thing we can do is simply notice someone who needs us. And when you do, you may be helping the rest of us see the world a little more as God sees it.


Image credit: created by Dalle-3 on 8-26-26 with elements: word “Wisdom”, wooden letters, light bulb, warm wooden background

The Third Servant

This coming Sunday is the 33rd Sunday in Ordinary Time. Our gospel is the Parable of the Talents: 24 Then the one who had received the one talent came forward and said, ‘Master, I knew you were a demanding person, harvesting where you did not plant and gathering where you did not scatter; 25 so out of fear I went off and buried your talent in the ground. Here it is back.’ 26 His master said to him in reply, ‘You wicked, lazy servant! So you knew that I harvest where I did not plant and gather where I did not scatter? 27 Should you not then have put my money in the bank so that I could have got it back with interest on my return? 

The third servant’s inaction is perhaps to be attributed to simple self-interest: he could not expect to get any significant personal benefit from whatever his trading might achieve, so why bother? He may also have been afraid of how such a master might react if his commercial venture failed, but if so he has chosen his words badly: his description of his master’s “hardness” explicitly recognizes the desire for profit which makes his own safety-first policy so unacceptable to his master. So his own words are rightly turned against him for his failure to engage in any degree of risk. But risk is at the heart of discipleship (10:39; 16:25–26); by playing safe the cautious servant has achieved nothing, and it is his timidity and lack of enterprise which is condemned. Some scholars describe his attitude as representing “a religion concerned only with not doing anything wrong.”

The servant’s portrayal of an unreasonable, grasping despot is not of course meant to be taken as a sober assessment of God’s expectations of his people. Parables often use surprising characters to illustrate aspects of God’s activity, (e.g. The burglar, 24:43; the eccentric employer, 20:1–16; the grudging neighbor, Luke 11:5–8; the lazy judge, Luke 18:1–8; the man who commends his steward’s dishonest practice, Luke 16:8) and the parable reader must learn to distinguish between the message conveyed and the vehicle. But even if God is not unreasonable and exploitative, the parable as a whole emphasizes that he makes exacting demands on his people.


Image credit: The Parable of the Talents by Willem de Porter, 17th century, National Gallery of Prague, PD-US