18th Sunday in Ordinary Time Year C 2025

We ended on a note that invites us to conversion last Sunday. There seems to be a continuation of the same theme today. A common notion of conversion is to conceive of it in terms of turning away from sin. It is, in a narrow sense, a call to repentance.

What is it to be converted? The Greek word “metanoia” can be translated as repentance or a change of heart. The word repentance suggests a turning away from sin but the notion of a change of heart is a bit more encompassing and wholistic because it is more than refraining from sin. A change of heart involves a profound transformation of a person’s perspective.

In the 1st Reading, the author of the Ecclesiastes decries the vanity of vanities arising from the fleeting nature of existence. It is not a matter of vain-glorious delusion per se but rather a kind of realisation that temporality is weaved into the very fabric of life. Nothing is permanent. In fact, the Psalmist reminds us that, like grass, we are here today and gone tomorrow.

From the Lord Himself, we catch a glimpse of what it means to be converted. In the Gospel passage, a man asks for a fair share of his inheritance. Rather than acting as arbitrator in a property dispute, Jesus responded by detailing the parable of the rich farmer who had more than enough. This man harvested a bumper crop thus granting him more than he needed. Instead of sharing his excess, and here it is not even demanding that he shared what he needed to survive, the man proceeded to build a far bigger barn to store his excess.

Unbeknownst to him, a demand was made on his soul. It could be a valuable lesson in detachment but more than merely divestment, it is an invitation to weigh in once again on our heavily materialistic outlook in life. There has never been an era in human history where we are awash in material abundance. We eat the best food and the enjoy the greatest creaturely comfort imaginable. Yet we are also the most unfulfilled and miserable.

Perhaps our misery is an eye-opening indication that we are caught in a vortex of unsatisfying materialism. In the Gospel, should the rich farmer give away his excess crop, it would not be a matter of charity. We think of charity from the view of generosity and that it is an expression of our mercy. But according to Pope St Gregory the Great helping the poor is not an act of mercy on our part but rather a debt of justice that we pay. Does anybody think like this at all? We always feel that by giving, we are meritorious when in fact, by giving, we are giving to the poor what is their due.

Just stating that is already quite upsetting, no?

This is where the conversion comes in. The Church has never declared that possession in itself is bad. Wealth is a blessing. However, hoarding can be considered sinful when we accumulate more than we need. The parable basically highlights the folly of greed and avarice. When we are unable to relate to others because we are overly obsessed with accumulation, we know that we are sliding down the wrong slope. In the narrative of Dives and Lazarus, the rich man was not condemned for his wealth. He was judged for not knowing how to use his riches for the greater good.

The conversion we are called to is to recognise wealth more as a stewardship than an ownership. We own nothing. Absolutely nothing. Instead some of us are blessed with more to govern and to make use of for the good of others. Stewardship is a great responsibility which has been placed upon our shoulders. A notion of stewardship because nothing is ours in the first place can help us appreciate better the idea of Laudato si.

In the 2nd Reading, St Paul urged the Colossians to focus on what is above. In terms of conversion, repentance is to reject sin. What is interesting is the so-called focus on the above. Essentially, we are incomplete and to urge that we part with what we perceive to complete us is akin to recommending that we “commit” suicide. By nature, we are armed with an instinct towards self-preservation. Nobody wants to die to himself or herself unless there is a higher purpose or a reason that can convince us to let go of this present life.

Thus, the conversion proposed is to recover a sense of what is to come after this life. Otherwise, stewardship makes no sense to so many people. The more obscured is our vision of the life to come, the less we would want to part with our wealth. A philanthropist is a lover of mankind. A person who has a great love for humanity might be able to use his or her wealth for the greater good, recognising that all that he or she owns is nothing more than matter of taking care of it. Finally, if a person can see that completion takes place in the afterlife, then there is a greater chance that one can change his or her world-view.

The way for this change to take place is to provide an experience of seeing God for who He is. Greed is a sin because it misses the point that to have a goalother than God is to leave us unsatisfied. As a result, we grab everything thinking that it will make us happy. But death reveals how vacuous earthly desires can be because nobody can bring what he or she owns across the threshold of death. Instead everything is left behind. I read somewhere that when Alexander the Great died, he was placed in an open coffin with both his hands outside showing that he came into world with nothing and that he, the conqueror of countries and continents, is departing the world with nothing. The only treasure that we can accumulate is found in heaven.

Once we recognise that treasure, we might have a greater possibility of loving our wealth only for the good that it can do and never for itself. Our greatest treasure is Jesus Christ. He alone can satisfy our heart’s desire. Conversion is to move from the gifts of the Lover to the love of the Giver. We turn to the Giver for He is our only treasure.