Sermon
Twenty-Second Sunday after Pentecost
Sunday October 25, 2026
When first reading the propers for today—especially the gospel from Matthew chapter 22 at the beginning of the week—I had one of those déjà vu moments; a “been there, done that” memory that comes our way now and again. It took a bit of digging, first in memory and then in my sermon files. I was convinced Jesus’ answer about the greatest commandment was something recently front and center. I discovered it wasn’t all that long ago: back at the end of June, as we were entering the heart of the summer season, the collect of the day incorporated the two great commandments: You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your mind; and you shall love your neighbor as yourself. It was the focus of my preaching that Sunday, and here we are again. Summer has passed, it is another season, and Jesus’ words are once again front and center. Of course, they are always front and center, as every Mass begins with the reading of the two great commandments.
Today’s gospel reading puts before us the fourth confrontation orchestrated by religious leaders during Jesus’ final week in Jerusalem, all taking place in the temple in the days following Palm Sunday. In last week’s gospel, the Pharisees and Herodians put Jesus on the spot with a question about paying taxes to Rome. Just prior to today’s encounter—with a question from a religious scholar (or “lawyer” in the language of the passage)—there was another confrontation not included in our Sunday readings. When the Pharisees heard that Jesus had silenced the Sadducees, they gathered together. The Sadducees, who rejected the idea of the resurrection, had tried to trip Jesus up with a hypothetical question about seven brothers who each married the same widow in turn. They asked whose wife she would be in the resurrection, and Jesus answered directly: in the resurrection, people neither marry nor are given in marriage, for God is not the God of the dead, but of the living.
In each confrontation, Jesus proves himself careful, clever, inspired, and unthreatened by his adversaries. When asked which is the greatest commandment in the law, Jesus responds without hesitation: “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your mind. This is the greatest and first commandment. And a second is like it: You shall love your neighbor as yourself.” Loving God is our first and foremost calling, and to love God means to love God’s people. As an ancient rabbinic saying puts it: What is hateful to you, do not do to your neighbor; that is the whole of the law.
In our 21st-century culture, we often struggle with the concept of love because we equate it almost exclusively with intense, fleeting emotions—we say we “love” chocolate, warm sunny days, or a movie. But the two great commandments are not grounded in temporary feelings or warm emotions. The covenant relationship between God and his people is built on choice: God chose to love Israel, and God chose to love you and me. To love God with all one’s heart, soul, and mind is a conscious decision to respond to God’s love regardless of how we feel in a given moment. Christian faith is grounded not in shifting emotions, but in the choice to believe and trust in God.
Our salvation is worked out in this real world where we live out our love for God and experience His love for us. The two are intimately connected: when we reach out to love another person, we realize that God is present and that we are loving Him.
Printed on our Sunday bulletin beneath the parish title are the words: “Celebrating Anglo-Catholic worship and mission since 1870.” What do those words mean to each of us? Beyond incense, ritual, and vestments, Anglo-Catholic worship and life are essentially sacramental. Its source is God, who chooses to love us and all of creation. The Church is a sacramental community called to be a sign of God’s love in the world and to carry out His work of love. From its earliest days, the Anglo-Catholic revival held mission and outreach front and center alongside liturgy and the sacraments. Responding to the needs of the wider community is an integral part of our identity.
Like many Anglo-Catholic parishes, St. Barnabas is a downtown, historically working-class community facing modern realities like homelessness and food insecurity. Reflecting on this calling brought to mind my time at St. Luke’s in Toronto, where we ran a food ministry called the Deacon’s Cupboard. Operating in partnership with the Daily Bread Food Bank, our large catchment area served an average of 475 households every month.
Under our agreement, we engaged in no proselytizing—our single purpose was to address hunger. As a priest, I did not walk the halls trying to convert people while they received food; instead, I kept the ministry in prayer and offered support when someone was in distress, such as comforting a young mother devastated by her family’s sudden need for a food bank. I came to see that providing food, shelter, or warm clothing to someone in need is in itself a sacramental act and gospel work. We do not need to demand a prayer before feeding someone; helping them is reaching out with the love of Christ.
As we reflect on the Gospel call to love God and love our neighbor, let us pause and ask ourselves what it means to be a community celebrating worship and mission today. How do we live out this sacramental calling in our neighborhood, and what does it mean for our future?
Blessed be God: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Amen.
Father Ted Hales