Commentary on the Gospel of September 21, 2025

You cannot serve both God and money.

Dear brothers and sisters, peace and goodness to you.

After the parenthesis of last week, when we celebrated the Feast of the Exaltation of the Holy Cross, we continue today with the reading of Luke’s Gospel in this “C” cycle. And we do so with some verses that sound, at first, a bit strange. Is the Lord really telling us to cheat in our accounts? Let’s see what we can draw from these verses. In reality, it is the master in the parable who praises the unjust steward—but we will come back to that in a moment.

The first reading already gives us an important key. Generally, the first reading and the Gospel of each Sunday are connected. One helps us unlock the treasure chest of the Good News we hear each week. As Jesus says: the good scribe, the disciple of the Kingdom, brings forth from his treasure “things new and old” (Mt 13:52).

That first reading describes a situation from the time of Amos. From Sunday to Friday, many merchants cheated in the marketplace, deceiving others and living as if God played no role in their lives. For them, the Sabbath was not a joy but a nuisance, since they couldn’t do business that day. Instead of rejoicing in the chance to pray to the God who had freed them from slavery in Egypt and brought them to the Promised Land, they were restless and discontent.

Money creates around itself a kind of idolatrous worship. And it is the idol of our own time. Money buys votes, gains honor, wins prestige. Whoever fuels economic growth is admired in almost any institution. Even in the Church, while we don’t usually reach such extremes, we still feel the temptation to adopt the business model of our society, lacking the imagination and courage to try another way—one that wouldn’t entangle us in this idolatrous religion of money. For it is a religion without a heart. Within this unjust system, we often end up cooperating and reproducing it in miniature. But a world whose economy followed God’s plan would look very different. We would all be brothers and sisters, and there would be enough for everyone.

Today, perhaps merchants don’t usually cheat as in Amos’s time. Still, the warning applies to many who live their faith in a divided way: from Monday to Saturday, as if God did not exist, guided by worldly values (having, power, being above others); and on Sunday, at Mass—for just one hour, to be Christian from ten to eleven in the morning, or six to seven in the evening. However long the Eucharist lasts.

An old saying went like this: “Religion is religion; business is business.” Or in other words: “The temple is the temple; the market is the market (the Stock Exchange is the Stock Exchange).” But no: God is not the tax collector, yet He does ask us for an account of how we treat others. If you are an employer, how do you treat your workers? If you are rich, how do you treat the poor? Do you see them as people—or as goods for your own use? Are you unjust in your dealings?

It is clear that the Lord wants us to be Christians seven days a week, twenty-four hours a day. Grateful for the gift of faith, eager to be in touch with Him, and joyful to gather with our community of faith. This is a very important warning.

Saint Paul also reminds us of the need to pray—everywhere, and without anger or arguments. In peace. To pray for everyone, asking God for friends and for enemies, so that little by little we may resemble our Father in heaven, who makes His sun rise on the good and the bad, and who wants all to be saved.

In ancient times, a slave could only serve one master. The same applies to God and money. They are like two adversaries in permanent conflict. The struggle does not take place between them directly, but within the human heart, where each of us must choose whom to serve. The danger of wealth is that it can take the place of God, creating a kind of unconscious slavery and worship. These two “services”—to God and to money—follow completely opposite logics. Service to God follows the logic of love and fraternity, of giving and generosity. Service to money follows the logic of self-interest, competition, possession, and ambition. That is why Jesus says: “No servant can serve two masters. He will either hate one and love the other, or be devoted to one and despise the other. You cannot serve both God and money.”

We would like to serve both: give Sunday to God and the rest of the week to money. But it is not possible. Both are demanding, both are exclusive, and their orders contradict each other. God says: “Share your goods, help your brothers, forgive the debts of the poor…” Money whispers: “Think of your own interests, look for ways to make a profit, keep it all for yourself…” It is impossible to please both.

Our God wants everyone to be saved. And it is possible to live better here on earth. That is why we must pray. God’s promises do not mean abandoning this world for a distant heaven. They mean praying: “Thy Kingdom come! On earth as it is in heaven! Give us this day our daily bread! Come, Lord Jesus! Come, Holy Spirit!” God wants to dwell here among us. The New Jerusalem comes down. The old Jerusalem wanted to climb up to heaven and became a dwelling for demons. But the New Jerusalem establishes here on earth a new system of communion and solidarity. It is already descending, and in some places it is already visible. God is making all things new. We can already notice it—with our help.

Your brother in the faith,