October 25, 2026 Trinity 21
October 25, 2026
Trinity 21
By the time Matthew gets to the scene we heard today, everyone is tired of Jesus. Or maybe it’s more honest to say that everyone is tired of not being able to win with Jesus. They have taken their shots. They have tried political traps, trick questions, and public challenges. Each attempt was carefully designed, and each one fell apart in real time. Now the Pharisees regroup. One of them, a lawyer, steps forward with what sounds like a safer question: “Teacher, which commandment in the law is the greatest?”
It is a good question. A real question. The kind of question religious people have been arguing about forever. With 613 holiness codes and laws floating around, you are going to start ranking them. You are going to ask which one’s matter most. Which ones carry weight? Which ones can you not afford to get wrong? For a moment, it feels like we might be back on familiar ground: Scripture, law, and interpretation. The kind of terrain where everyone knows how to talk – then as well as now.
Jesus answers without hesitation. There is no delay, parable or sidestep. “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind.” It’s the Shema. The daily prayer that Jews were required to say. You can almost hear the room exhale. Finally, something recognizable.
But Jesus does not stop. “And a second is like it: ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself.’” Now he has done something subtle but unsettling. He hasn’t just answered the question; he has expanded it. He has tied together something people were used to holding apart. Love of God and love of neighbor are not two separate tracks. They are one command with two inseparable directions.
Then, he says, “On these two commandments hang all the Law and the Prophets.” Everything. Not most things and not just the important parts. Everything hangs here. It means this is not just about prioritizing commandments. It is about re-centering the entire life of faith.
We are tempted to hear that and nod along. Of course we love God. And of course we love our neighbor (well, most of them). It fits and feels right. It sounds like something we already believe and therefore can agree with. But before we get too comfortable, it’s worth noticing what Jesus has really done: He has taken the entire weight of the law and placed it on something that cannot be managed.
Love. Not belief, agreement, or compliance. Love.
Which sounds softer than it is because love, as Jesus uses it, is not sentiment. It is not preference or the warm feeling you get when things are going well. It is total, heart, soul, mind. All of it. There is no partial credit in that command.
But just when it seems like Jesus has finally given them an answer they can work with, he asks a question of his own. Continuing today’s Gospel a few more verses, we can read, “While the Pharisees were gathered together, Jesus questioned them saying, “What is your opinion about the Messiah? Whose son is he?” They replied, “David’s.” He said to them, “How, then, does David, inspired by the Spirit, call him ‘lord,’ saying:
‘The Lord said to my lord,
“Sit at my right hand
until I place your enemies under your feet”’?
If David calls him ‘lord,’ how can he be his son?” No one was able to answer him a word, nor from that day on did anyone dare to ask him any more questions.”
They answer quickly. “David,” they answer. It is the right answer. The expected answer. The kind of answer you give when you have been paying attention.
But Jesus essentially says, are you sure?
Now the room shifts again. Jesus is not asking for information. He is exposing assumptions. They have a category for the Messiah. They know where he fits. He is in the line of David and part of the story they already understand.
And Jesus refuses to stay in that category.
If David calls him Lord, then the Messiah is not just David’s descendant. He is something greater — someone who does not fit neatly into the expectations they have inherited. And suddenly, the conversation they thought they were controlling is out of their hands.
Matthew tells us they asked no further questions. Not because they ran out of questions. But because they ran into someone who would not be contained by them. And that’s where this text starts to press on us.
We come to Jesus with our own questions. Some of them are good questions, the kind that come from trying to live faithfully in a complicated world. What matters most? What does faithfulness look like here? How do we navigate this?
And like the Pharisees, we often expect answers that fit within the framework we already have. We want clarity that confirms our assumptions. We want guidance that leaves our categories intact. We want a Messiah who fits into our expectations and needs.
Jesus gives us an answer, but it does not stay where we want it. Love God. Love neighbor. Everything hangs on this, which means you cannot claim to love God while ignoring your neighbor. And you cannot reduce love of neighbor to whatever is easiest, safest, or most comfortable – especially if it is a neighbor who has a dog that continuously poo poos on your lawn and does not clean up after it.
This is not abstract. It lands in actual relationships, decisions, and lives.
Jesus’ question, “What do you think of the Messiah?” continues to echo. The answer is not what you have heard or agree with. It’s what you think, and who he is to you.
You can have all the right answers about Jesus and still not know what to do with him. The Pharisees know their Scripture. They know the line of David. They know the categories. And still, they are standing in front of the Messiah, unable to recognize what does not fit. That is not just their problem.
We have our own categories. Jesus as teacher. Jesus as an example. Jesus as comfort. And if Jesus stays in those categories, we are fine.
But the moment he steps outside them, asks something of us we did not anticipate, or refuses to align neatly with our expectations, we get quiet. Or we start asking different questions. Or we stop asking questions altogether.
A Messiah who fits into our categories is easier to manage than a Lord who does not.
Matthew gives us this strange “no more questions” ending, not because Jesus shut down curiosity. It’s because he revealed something deeper than curiosity. He revealed that the problem is not a lack of information. It is misplaced control.
The Pharisees thought they were evaluating Jesus, and Jesus reveals that he is the one evaluating them. This is the turn we do not like.
We are comfortable with a faith where we ask questions, and a religion where we set the agenda and we decide what matters and what does not. Jesus steps into that and says, in effect, you are asking the wrong questions.
It reminds me of a T-Shirt I once saw. It is based on a piece of Christian/religious internet humor featuring an illustration or vintage graphic of Jesus Christ—often facepalming, covering his eyes, or looking exasperated—reacting to fake, misattributed, or overly-commercialized quotes. My favorite being: “OMG You guys! That’s not what I said!” I often think of this shirt when someone makes a typical ultra conservative statement about some groups of people, or belief that does not agree with their ultra conservative view and interpretation of various Biblical topics.
Or maybe more precisely, you are asking them from the wrong place because the greatest commandment is not a concept to be discussed. It is a life to be lived. And the Messiah is not a category to be filled. He is the Lord who refuses to fit into your categories.
This text does not leave us with neat conclusions. It leaves us with tension. On one hand, everything is clarified. Love God. Love neighbor. Everything hangs here.
On the other hand, everything is unsettled. Who is this Messiah, really? Not just in theory, but in practice. Not just in doctrine, but in daily life.
And maybe that’s not a problem to solve. Maybe that’s the beginning of faith.
The moment you think you have Jesus fully contained; you have probably stopped listening. And the moment you stop listening, you stop being changed.
The Pharisees stop asking questions. The danger for us is not that we ask too many. It is that we stop because we have decided we already know.
And Jesus, in one conversation, refuses to let that happen. He gives an answer that demands your life. And asks a question that unsettles your assumptions.
And then he leaves you there, not with closure, but with himself.
And that turns out to be enough.
Let us pray.
In today’s gospel Jesus gives us the recipe for salvation, to love our God and love our neighbor as ourselves. We pray for the grace, the wisdom, and the commitment to follow faithfully this wonderful advice. We pray to the Lord.
We pray for our parish, that it will be a place of welcome, where all will feel the warmth of God’s love and that this love be reflected in all our daily lives. We pray to the Lord.
At this time, when so many are suffering distress and hardship due to cost-of-living pressures, we pray that those who can afford to do so are moved by Christ’s message to help their neighbor in need. We pray to the Lord.
We pray that our parish reflect God's love through patience, forgiveness, and care for those in need. We pray to the Lord.
We pray that global leaders heed the cries of the poor, marginalized, and vulnerable to foster true justice and peace. We pray to the Lord.
We pray that we may acknowledge all we have as gifts from God and live as faithful stewards. We pray to the Lord.
We pray to God for an increase of clergy and religious for our denomination that we might spread the message of Christ to all peoples without exception. We pray to the Lord.
We pray that those with means who believe in our mission will consider a donation to help us to have better resources so that we may expand our outreach to more people and bring them the Good News. We pray to the Lord.
For those on our parish prayer list, that they may receive swift answers to their needs and that they may find overwhelming comfort from Christ’s healing presence. We pray to the Lord.
We bow our heads and remember in silence our own personal intentions and the intentions of those who have asked for our prayers (pause). We pray to the Lord.
Father God, we, like the Pharisees, often ask questions in the hope that we get a reply that would fit our narrative. For good or bad, we do this. We will sometimes be disappointed or angry with you because of what we might think unfair, much like a younger child having a temper-tantrum. Some of us will even give up on you. Yet, in time, we learn and know that you are all compassion beyond our understanding. While we know that you are God who is, was and ever shall be, all that we can see, hear, feel, smell, or comprehend is by your design and creation – and it is good. This means you are in full and complete control.
Help us to know that no matter what the situation, you are able to enter into our lives and be all that we can imagine. You are full of compassion and love so much so that whether we are angry, sad, or lack understanding, you reach us where we are. When we are like the Pharisees in our Gospel reading, you respond with complete gentleness. We might feel absence of you, but in those times, you are not absent – you are completely within giving us hugs that make human hugs fail considerably in comparison. Help us to feel this level of love at all times of our lives. Lead us to feel this always, so that we never doubt who you are and how wonderful it is to have you in our lives. In such a troubled world, bring us close to you so that we may always know you. On our currency it says: “In God We Trust.” Let us go forth and do just that. We ask all this through Christ our Lord. Amen.
God Love You.
The Most Rev. Robert Winzens
Pastor – St. Francis Chapel
San Diego, CA.
As a small parish, we come to you all as beggars! All non-profits compete for your support, and many serve the community’s great needs, and we do not ask you to stop giving to them. But maybe one week or month, we ask that you consider a small donation to our humble parish. Your generous support also allows us to continue these important projects that fuel the movement of progressive Christianity. God will look on your donation grant you his grace in abundance! Thank you and God bless you! +++
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