Twenty-Second Sunday of the Year (Year C)

 Twenty-Second Sunday of the Year August 31, 2025

Sirach 3:17-18.20.28-29; Hebrews 12:18-19.22-24a; Luke 14:1.7-14

(Image courtesy: Google)

William Carey, the great missionary of India, was humble despite his excellent linguistic skills and botanical achievements. He had translated the Bible into several Indian languages. The intellectuals and men of high positions in Calcutta recognised him. On one occasion, the Governor General of India invited him to a party. As they sat around the table, one of the invitees asked another whether this was the Carey who was once a shoemaker. Carey overheard this comment and turned to the person and said, in all humility, “No, Sir, I was only a cobbler.”

In the Gospel of today, Jesus dines with religious leaders and takes the opportunity to teach some essential discipleship qualities, particularly humility. Jesus recommends other virtues but tells us that humility is the foundation on which all other Christian virtues are built. He invites us to recognise our own lowliness before God and, simultaneously, speaks to us of the importance of accepting the marginalised and the downtrodden persons.

Pride has always been humanity’s most subtle temptation. From the garden of Eden, where Adam and Eve wanted to “be like God,” to our modern society, where status symbols dictate worth, pride distorts our relationships with God and others. Pride whispers that I deserve more, should be seen, and must be recognised. But pride blinds us. It makes us unable to see the dignity of others, especially the marginalised.

Sirach 3:17-20, our first reading, is crystal clear: “Conduct your affairs with humility and you will be loved more than a giver of gifts. Humble yourself and you will find favour with the Lord.” God resists the proud but blesses the humble.

Humility, contrary to what some think, is not weakness. Humility is not putting yourself down, nor is it denying your gifts. Rather, humility is the truth about ourselves: everything we are and have is a gift. It is living with gratitude and openness, recognising that we stand before God as creatures, not as masters.

St Augustine once said, “Do you wish to rise? Begin by descending. You plan a tower that will pierce the clouds? Lay first the foundation of humility.” Without humility, our achievements collapse into emptiness. With humility, even the smallest act of love becomes radiant in God’s eyes.

Today, the Gospel challenges us to ask ourselves:

• Do I seek recognition when I serve, or am I content to serve quietly?
• Do I measure others by their status, wealth, or influence, or do I recognise their dignity as children of God?
• Am I willing to extend kindness to those who cannot repay me, perhaps the poor, the lonely, the overlooked in society?

In our families, humility means listening before speaking, forgiving before demanding apologies, and serving before expecting to be served. In our communities, humility means giving space to others, respecting differences, and acknowledging each person's gifts. In our relationship with God, humility means confessing our need for His mercy and grace, instead of pretending we can manage life independently.

Jesus uses the image of a banquet in today’s Gospel. In human banquets, the guest list is selective. We invite those who can entertain us or return the favour. But God’s banquet is different. He invites the poor, the blind, the lame, the forgotten. His Kingdom is a feast of inclusion, where no one is left out.

Every time we celebrate the Eucharist, we are at God’s banquet. Here, none of us comes because we deserve a seat. We are invited purely by grace. And here, Christ feeds us not earthly food but His very Body and Blood, nourishing us with His humble love.

Humility is not natural to us. Pride easily creeps in. We may not physically push our way to the front seats at a banquet, but pride can show itself subtly, thinking we are better than others, refusing to admit mistakes, or doing good only for recognition.

Today, the Word of God calls us to a conversion of heart. True discipleship is not about climbing ladders but stooping down to lift others. It is about letting go of self-importance and learning the joy of serving without counting the cost.

Ultimately, what matters most is not how high we climbed but how deeply we loved. The world will remember titles, awards, and positions for a time. Still, in God’s eternal banquet, He will remember the quiet acts of humility, when we forgave, gave without expecting back, and served without applause.

Let us therefore walk the path of Christ, who, though He was in the form of God, humbled Himself and took the form of a servant, even unto death on a cross. And because of this humility, God exalted Him and gave Him the name above every other name.

As we leave this Eucharist today, let us carry with us this truth: The way up is down. The path to true greatness is humility.

Happy Sunday