Christ Catholic Church
The Lessons Appointed for Use on the Sunday closest to October 26 Year A Proper 25 RCL
The Collect
Almighty and everlasting God, increase in us the gifts of faith, hope, and charity; and, that we may obtain what you promise, make us love what you command; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.
Old Testament
Deuteronomy 34:1-12
Moses went up from the plains of Moab to Mount Nebo, to the top of Pisgah, which is opposite Jericho, and the Lord showed him the whole land: Gilead as far as Dan, all Naphtali, the land of Ephraim and Manasseh, all the land of Judah as far as the Western Sea, the Negeb, and the Plain—that is, the valley of Jericho, the city of palm trees—as far as Zoar. The Lord said to him, “This is the land of which I swore to Abraham, to Isaac, and to Jacob, saying, ‘I will give it to your descendants’; I have let you see it with your eyes, but you shall not cross over there.” Then Moses, the servant of the Lord, died there in the land of Moab, at the Lord’s command. He was buried in a valley in the land of Moab, opposite Beth-peor, but no one knows his burial place to this day. Moses was one hundred twenty years old when he died; his sight was unimpaired and his vigor had not abated. The Israelites wept for Moses in the plains of Moab thirty days; then the period of mourning for Moses was ended.
Joshua son of Nun was full of the spirit of wisdom, because Moses had laid his hands on him; and the Israelites obeyed him, doing as the Lord had commanded Moses.
Never since has there arisen a prophet in Israel like Moses, whom the Lord knew face to face. He was unequaled for all the signs and wonders that the Lord sent him to perform in the land of Egypt, against Pharaoh and all his servants and his entire land, and for all the mighty deeds and all the terrifying displays of power that Moses performed in the sight of all Israel.
The Psalm
Psalm 90:1-6, 13-17
Domine, refugium
1 Lord, you have been our refuge *
from one generation to another.
2 Before the mountains were brought forth,
or the land and the earth were born, *
from age to age you are God.
3 You turn us back to the dust and say, *
“Go back, O child of earth.”
4 For a thousand years in your sight are like yesterday when it is past *
and like a watch in the night.
5 You sweep us away like a dream; *
we fade away suddenly like the grass.
6 In the morning it is green and flourishes; *
in the evening it is dried up and withered.
13 Return, O Lord; how long will you tarry? *
be gracious to your servants.
14 Satisfy us by your loving-kindness in the morning; *
so shall we rejoice and be glad all the days of our life.
15 Make us glad by the measure of the days that you afflicted us *
and the years in which we suffered adversity.
16 Show your servants your works *
and your splendor to their children.
17 May the graciousness of the Lord our God be upon us; *
prosper the work of our hands;
prosper our handiwork.
The Epistle
1 Thessalonians 2:1-8
You yourselves know, brothers and sisters, that our coming to you was not in vain, but though we had already suffered and been shamefully mistreated at Philippi, as you know, we had courage in our God to declare to you the gospel of God in spite of great opposition. For our appeal does not spring from deceit or impure motives or trickery, but just as we have been approved by God to be entrusted with the message of the gospel, even so we speak, not to please mortals, but to please God who tests our hearts. As you know and as God is our witness, we never came with words of flattery or with a pretext for greed; nor did we seek praise from mortals, whether from you or from others, though we might have made demands as apostles of Christ. But we were gentle among you, like a nurse tenderly caring for her own children. So deeply do we care for you that we are determined to share with you not only the gospel of God but also our own selves, because you have become very dear to us.
The Gospel
Matthew 22:34-46
When the Pharisees heard that Jesus had silenced the Sadducees, they gathered together, and one of them, a lawyer, asked him a question to test him. “Teacher, which commandment in the law is the greatest?” He said to him, “’You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and 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.’ On these two commandments hang all the law and the prophets.”
Now while the Pharisees were gathered together, Jesus asked them this question: “What do you think of the Messiah? Whose son is he?” They said to him, “The son of David.” He said to them, “How is it then that David by the Spirit calls him Lord, saying,
‘The Lord said to my Lord,
“Sit at my right hand,
until I put your enemies under your feet”’?
If David thus calls him Lord, how can he be his son?” No one was able to give him an answer, nor from that day did anyone dare to ask him any more questions.
Loving What He Commands
By +Brian Ernest Brown, CWC
What do you do when your life’s greatest work remains unfinished? Most of us like to imagine that if we just put in enough sweat, stay faithful through the hardest storms, and follow every instruction to the letter, we will get to walk into the land of our dreams and enjoy the view. We want the complete resolution, the victory lap, and the neat final chapter where every single promise is checked off on our own personal timeline. Our collect today cuts straight through that anxious craving, asking God to increase in us the gifts of faith, hope, and charity, and that we might obtain what he promises by loving what he commands. That is a profound, challenging prayer, because loving God’s commands often means learning to trust him with outcomes we will never personally see or control.
We see the poignant beauty of an unfinished life right at the start of our readings in Deuteronomy. Moses climbs Mount Nebo, to the very top of Pisgah, overlooking the plains of Moab opposite Jericho. He is one hundred and twenty years old, with eyes that are still sharp and strength that has not failed him. God spreads the whole magnificent landscape before him, from Gilead to Dan, all the territory of Judah as far as the Western Sea, the green valley of Jericho, and the city of palm trees. It is the land God swore to Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. And then God speaks those tender, heart-wrenching words: I have let you see it with your eyes, but you shall not cross over there.
Moses dies right there in the wilderness of Moab, at the command of the Lord, and God buries him in a secret valley that no human being has ever found. Moses never sets foot in the Promised Land. After forty years of wandering, after absorbing the complaints, the rebellion, and the heartbreak of an entire nation, his journey ends on the mountain ridge looking across the river. Yet the scripture doesn’t treat Moses as a failure; it declares that never since has there arisen a prophet in Israel like Moses, whom the Lord knew face to face. Moses laid his hands on Joshua, passed the spirit of wisdom to the next generation, and rested in God’s care. Moses didn’t need to plant his flag across the Jordan to validate his life. His life was complete because he belonged to God, and he loved what God commanded enough to let God write the final chapter.
This quiet peace in the face of human limitation is the very foundation of Psalm 90. The Psalmist reminds us, Lord, you have been our refuge from one generation to another. Long before the mountains rose or the world was shaped, from age to age, you are God. We are reminded that our lives are brief, flourishing like green grass in the morning and drying up by evening. A thousand years in God’s eyes are like a single watch in the night or like yesterday when it has already slipped away. When we recognize how short our earthly days really are, we stop obsessing over building temporary monuments to our own egos. Instead, we pray that timeless, humble petition: Satisfy us by your loving-kindness in the morning, and prosper the work of our hands. We ask God to make our small, fleeting efforts count for something lasting, trusting that his splendor will carry on in our children long after our names are forgotten.
That same selfless, generational care is what Paul pours out so movingly in his letter to the Thessalonians. Paul reminds the young church that he and his companions didn’t come to them with fancy words, hidden greed, or smooth flattery meant to win human applause. They didn’t show up throwing their apostolic weight around or making heavy demands. Instead, Paul writes that they were gentle among them, like a nursing mother tenderly caring for her own children. They were determined to share not only the gospel of God, but their very own selves, because that community had become so deeply dear to them. Paul understood that genuine ministry isn’t about building a personal empire or checking off spiritual milestones. It is about pouring out your actual life in love, showing up with gentleness, and giving yourself away for the sake of the people right in front of you.
And that brings us directly into the heart of the Gospel of Matthew, where the religious leaders try once more to trap Jesus in a theological debate. A lawyer steps forward and asks, Teacher, which commandment in the law is the greatest? He wants Jesus to choose one pet issue out of over six hundred laws, hoping to stir up an argument that will divide his followers.
Jesus answers by sweeping away the trivia and going straight to the core: You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and 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. On these two commandments hang all the law and the prophets.
Jesus doesn’t give them a new bureaucratic rulebook; he gives them a plumb line of love. Everything God has ever spoken through the prophets and the law hangs on these two hooks. You cannot love God with all your heart, soul, and mind while ignoring or mistreating your neighbor. And you cannot truly love your neighbor with sacrificial, enduring grace unless your life is anchored in the boundless love of God.
Then Jesus turns the tables and asks them who they think the Messiah is. When they give the standard political answer that he is the son of David, Jesus quotes Psalm 110, showing them that David calls the Messiah Lord. Jesus is nudging them to see that the Messiah isn’t just an earthly king who will conquer foreign armies and give them political dominance. The Messiah is the divine Lord of heaven and earth, who conquers sin, hatred, and death through the radical power of self-giving love.
This message speaks straight to our hearts today. How often do we stand on our own Mount Nebo, looking out at goals we haven’t reached, dreams that haven’t materialized, or family situations that remain messy and unresolved? We can easily fall into bitterness, convincing ourselves that unless we cross every river and claim every prize right now, our lives haven’t counted for much.
Hear the freeing truth of the Gospel today. Your worth isn’t measured by whether you finish the whole story this afternoon, and it certainly isn’t measured by how many trophies you pile up before sundown. You belong to the God who knew Moses face to face, who has been our refuge through every generation, and who holds both the seeds we plant and the harvest that comes after us in his faithful hands.
Let’s lay down our anxious need to control every outcome this week. Let’s ask God to increase in us faith, hope, and charity, so that we can truly love what he commands. Love the Lord your God with everything you have, love your neighbor with the gentle tenderness of a parent caring for a child, and leave the future safely with the one whose love never ends.
Amen.