Commentary on the Gospel of Sunday October 5, 2025

Dear brothers and sisters, peace and goodness.

It seems that the Apostles realized that, with their level of faith, they couldn’t reach even the minimum the Lord asked of them. There are times when believing and trusting become difficult—too difficult. Then, like the Apostles, we often say: “I just don’t have that much faith!” Our faith doesn’t match the harshness of reality; it hides, depressed and anxiously pleading. The most we manage is resignation.

People today like things they can see. We Catholics are also children of our time. Yet the Gospel speaks to us about faith—something abstract, invisible. Faith—what is it? What’s it for? We Christians say we have faith, and we claim that faith helps us keep moving forward, even in the darkest moments, even when death or illness draws near.

Having faith doesn’t mean there are no problems, or that the death of loved ones doesn’t hurt. We have permission—and even the right—to grieve. Sadness is not forbidden. But we are invited to embrace it deeply, because even sorrow and pain have meaning. The only thing we don’t have the right to do is to grieve like those who have no faith or hope.

The prophet Habakkuk surely had faith. That’s why the Lord gave him the mission of denouncing injustice. But there was so much of it that it overwhelmed him. So he asked God directly, with a question we, too, might ask: “How long?”

God’s answer is disconcerting. He doesn’t offer explanations—He asks for faith, that is, unconditional and absolute trust. He fully understands the complaints of both the people and the prophet. He knows that not everyone can accept what seems to be His tolerance of the wicked. But the truth is that the prosperity, joy, and good fortune of evildoers are actually the beginning of their downfall. In the end, when accounts are settled, they will be condemned by their own wicked deeds. In contrast, for the just person—the one who has faith—the path of salvation will open: the path of eternal life.

Paul also appeals to faith in the second reading. By the end of the first century, false teachers were spreading strange and fantastic doctrines, beginning to infiltrate Christian communities. Adhering to such false interpretations of the Gospel led to serious theological and moral deviations. Paul writes to Timothy, the leader of his community, urging him to stay alert and protect the faithful—especially those most vulnerable and tempted to follow this spreading heresy.

The mention of the Holy Spirit reminds us that the tradition we have received (in the dogmas, the Catechism of the Church, the Magisterium’s documents…) can be interpreted, developed, and adapted to new times. That’s why human rights today are not understood as they were in the 15th century. A child’s faith is enough for a child; but for an adult, childish faith—like a child’s clothes—becomes too small. It is the task of pastors to help their flock grow spiritually, always within the framework of the Church’s doctrine and in communion with her, avoiding ambiguous teachings and errors against the faith.

In today’s Gospel, Jesus speaks about our true relationship with God. In His time, the Pharisees put merit first. We remember the one in the synagogue who recited a list of all his good deeds, standing before the tax collector who didn’t dare lift his head (Lk 18:9–14). With all their “merits,” they believed they had earned salvation.

That way of thinking about our relationship with God seems logical: the more I do, the more I accumulate for my final judgment. But we don’t realize we’re thinking like the Pharisees. The human being, a hardworking servant, tries hard—but we can’t demand anything from God, who gives us everything freely, not because of our merits but purely out of grace. If we’re not careful, we can fall into spiritual selfishness. We put ourselves, not God, at the center—doing good just to feel better or to “show off” before God, rather than out of pure love for Him—and that’s spiritual pride. We can even turn God into an accountant, keeping track of sins and merits.

Of course, we must continue doing good works. Doing what is right remains a moral duty for everyone. But the key is our motivation. Jesus wants to purify our hearts from “spiritual competition or envy.” We don’t have to compete for God’s love or favor; He has enough love for each and every one of His children.

The line between doing things for love of God or for love of oneself is sometimes hard to see. That’s why Jesus warns us with today’s Gospel. We must love unconditionally, expecting nothing in return—just as God loves us all—if we want to enter the Kingdom of God. And that’s not easy, because that self-centered mindset is deeply rooted in us. That’s why we need to grow in trust, in faith.

Faith gives meaning to the journey because the Lord goes ahead and knows where He’s going. Faith gives us the joy of walking side by side with Him. That’s real faith—the faith that makes us say: “Lord, by walking behind You, I’m only doing what I ought to do. I am an unworthy and useless servant, but happy to go with You wherever You lead.”

Then we’ll recognize—even if at times with difficulty—the path He desires for all His creatures. We’ll know what we must do. And by doing what we should—making the most of each moment and opportunity—we’ll help others, and ourselves, to hear one day: “Come, you blessed of my Father.”

Your brother in faith,