Anyone who has spent time around little kids has probably played some version of the “opposite game.” When you’re trying to help them build their understanding of things and their vocabulary, you go back and forth trying to help them get the right answers: “I say ‘good’ you say – ‘bad’.” And you’re off and rolling “Fast – Slow”; “Up – Down”; “Hot – Cold.”
Thank you for taking the time to read this homily for the 23rd Sunday in Ordinary Time — September 6, 2026.
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Thank you for being part of this ministry and for helping these homilies reach far beyond the place where they are first preached.. Sincerely in Christ -Father Jim
For much of my life, if “Love” was on the list, I probably would’ve instinctively answered “hate,” for good reason. Hate can be ugly and violent and consume somebody. Most words and actions that come out of hatred are completely opposed to love. But the older I get, the more I wonder whether the real opposite of love isn’t hate, but maybe it’s indifference. Because when you think about it, love and hate strangely have things in common: they both involve tremendous passion and emotion. You’re invested in a way that it gets a reaction out of you.
Indifference says, “I don’t care;” “Not my problem;” “Not my responsibility;” “I’m staying out of it.” And there’s something particularly cold about that. It reminded me of a terrible story from a year ago: The horrific murder of Iryna Zarutska, the young Ukrainian refugee who was attacked while riding a train in Charlotte, North Carolina. The whole story was horrifying. This young woman was sitting there, minding her own business, suddenly and senselessly attacked from behind. Sadly, almost instantly it became an enormous political flashpoint where people all went from various angles – crime, public safety, mental-health system, the justice system… Everyone weighed in from their particular vantage points.
But there was another part of this episode that disturbed me and has never left me: the video of the reactions around her. In the immediate reaction to this horror, it seemed like everyone moved away. People were clearly frightened, confused, probably unsure whether the attacker was still a threat. And so I want to be careful here. Because it’s very, very easy (and sadly common) to watch a video online and announce what I would have done… I would have jumped in, I would have stopped him, I would have done this… Maybe. I’d hope that I would and want to believe that. But unless you’re actually in that moment, and please God we never would be, you don’t know. So I’m definitely not trying to judge frightened people in an unimaginably horrific situation.
But that footage left me with an uncomfortable question – How is it possible for another person to be suffering right in front of us and for our instinct to be, Get Away… Don’t get involved…
And maybe that’s why, of all the terrible stories we encounter, that story has haunted me over this last year. Because while most of us will hopefully never encounter something that horrific, we face smaller versions of that same temptation all the time: Someone is struggling; Somone is making terrible decisions; someone we love is heading somewhere destructive… A friendship is falling apart – their drinking is getting worse; they’re destroying a relationship; someone is drifting farther and farther from God; They’re doing something that that is hurting them and other people…. And we see it but tell ourselves “I better not… it’s really not my business… They’re an adult… they can do whatever they want… I don’t want things to get awkward.”
Today’s scriptures challenge that by asking, “Is that actually love?” Because all three of them, in different ways warn us against indifference.
To the prophet Ezekiel in the first reading, God says something incredibly serious: I have appointed you watchman for the house of Israel. A watchman is someone who stood on a wall and was looking for any threats that might be coming. So the Lord God is telling Ezekiel If danger is coming, you have to say something. If someone is heading down a path to destruction, you have to warn them. You can’t shrug your shoulders and say well that’s their choice. God is making it clear it’s his responsibility to speak. Not controlling what someone does – or forcing them to listen – and he’s not responsible for the outcomes. BUT he is responsible for caring enough to say something.
That’s important because too often we’ve fallen for the lie that confuses love with being nice. And they are not the same thing. Being nice says “I don’t want you upset with me” Love says – I care too much about you to pretend this is okay. Being nice wants to avoid discomfort. Love is willing to endure discomfort for someone else’s good.
St. Paul picks up on that even more directly in the second reading in his letter to the Romans when he says owe nothing to anyone except to love one another. Love – the debt we never finish paying. And just to put an exclamation point on things Paul reminds us love does no evil to the neighbor. Which means as Christians “well at least I’m not hurting anybody” isn’t enough. Christian love is active – it means we seek the good of another.
This sets us up for the Gospel today, where Jesus gets incredibly practical. “If your brother sins against you, go and tell him his fault between you and him alone.” Right away it’s very clear what to do – Go to him – not go tell everybody else… Not tell you roomate, your friends, your parents… put it in the group chat, take a screen shot and send it around… not post something vague on instagram that everybody knows is obviously about that person. Go to him – alone, face to face, privately. Which honestly is something that many of us need to remember. Because we’ve become incredibly effective at talking about people. Jesus tell us to talk to people. Which is much harder. It’s a lot easier having my supporters surround me affirming that I’m right – and they’re terrible. And when we do that – we’ve decided I’m not trying to help somebody – I’m building a case. Jesus says No – go to your brother… go to your sister. For a reason which might be the most important line in the whole Gospel If he listens to you, you have won over your brother.
That’s the goal – not you won the argument; not you proved you were right, not you got an apology, not everybody finally knows what a jerk they are. Jesus is interested in winning your brother. That’s the goal – the relationship…the person. His salvation – Her salvation. That’s what Jesus cares about.
Which means before we correct anybody we have to start with what am I trying to win. If I’m secretly hoping to humiliate you – prove that I’m right, finally putting you in your place – than I need to check myself. Because Christian correction isn’t about saying “I caught you” but “I don’t want to lose you,” And that’s an entirely different thing.
That’s not to say Jesus is dismissing justice here. Notice he’s not saying that serious wrongdoing should be ignored. He’s not saying we have to remain in abusive relationships or tolerate destructive behavior. For sure, there are times when boundaries are absolutely necessary – when someone needs to be removed from a situation, when authorities need to become involved. And there are times when reconciliation is not immediately possible because the person refuses to acknowledge what they’ve done. Jesus is not naive and not asking us to be… He tells us to first go privately – if that doesn’t work, bring one or two others, if that doesn’t work, bring it to the Church, and if they still refuse to listen – “treat him as you would a gentile or tax collector.”
So yes there is a point when boundaries are necessary, when options have run out and love might mean saying “I love you, but I cannot participate in this… I cannot pretend this isn’t destroying you… or I love you but this cannot continue.” That’s not hatred. Sometimes that’s the most loving thing you can do.
But I love the fact that the man recording these words for us is St. Matthew. Matthew – The tax collector. Think about that – “treat him as you would a gentile or a tax collector” – Matthew is hearing that an writing it down. He knew exactly what that meant.
Tax collectors were despised as collaborators with Rome and traitors to their own people. People who had chosen money and power over their countrymen, neighbors, friends and family. Matthew had been one of them. Yet one day, Jesus walking past a customs post and sees Matthew sitting there. And while plenty of others looked at Matthew and saw – a traitor, a sell out, a sinner, a lost cause – Jesus looked at Matthew and invited him follow me.
That doesn’t erase what Jesus is saying about boundaries but it stells us something about the heart we are suppose to have even toward somebody who has placed himself outside the community. Because Jesus never looks at another human being and says “Lost Cause”. That’s why as Christians being indifferent is not an option. You may have to step away from someone, you may not be able to trust them right now, you may say “our relationship cannot continue like this.” But as Christians – we never stop praying, we never stop hoping, we never stop desiring conversion. Because God never did, never will do that to us.
And maybe that’s where this Gospel needs to turn back on us. It’s easy to hear this Gospel and think that Jesus is asking us to come up with a list of people in our lives who need correction and how to go about it. But maybe instead of who do I need to straighten out – the better question is who have I stopped caring enough about? Who have I written off? Who have I decided is too difficult, too stubborn, too far gone? Who do I see struggling and have convinced myself “well that’s their problem?”
Because that’s where indifference begins. And Jesus will have none of it. Not because He expects us to fix everybody. Not because we’re responsible for every choice another person makes. We aren’t. But love never gets to say I just don’t care anymore. Because the whole story of salvation – Old and New Testament, from Genesis and creation to us at this altar: We wander away from God, and God doesn’t remain at a distance. He comes after us – THE WORD BECOMES FLESH – Jesus enters right into our mess, seeks sinners, eats with tax collectors, tells people truths they don’t always want to hear. He forgives. He calls them to conversion. And ultimately He goes to the Cross.
The Cross is what the opposite of indifference looks like. It’s God saying most definitively as possible – you matter too much to me for me to ever abandon you. Even when you’re wrong. Even when you don’t listen Even when you’ve made a colossal mess of everything – I still love you… I still seek you … I still long for you. That’s what He continues to do for us here at this altar. Jesus doesn’t love us from a safe distance. He gives us Himself.
Which is why the words of today’s psalm can become our prayer: If today you hear his voice, harden not your hearts. Lord, don’t let my heart become hard. Don’t let me become indifferent. Give me the courage to speak when love requires me to speak. The humility to listen when I’m the one who needs correction. The wisdom to know when a boundary is necessary. And the mercy never to declare another person a lost cause. Because Jesus doesn’t want me to win an argument, He wants me to “win my brother.” He who is love wants their good, their conversion, their salvation… and so should I.
The opposite of love isn’t simply hate. Sometimes its much quieter and deadlier. It’s walking away. It’s deciding “Not my problem” It’s refusing to get involved. But that’s not Jesus’ way. Love steps in. Love speaks. Love refuses to stop caring. .
