Homily | October 19 2026 | Bigger Barns, Smaller Soul (Episode 313)

There's a fascinating detail in today's gospel that's very easy to miss.

Jesus tells us about a wealthy man who has just experienced an extraordinary harvest.

His land has produced so much that he doesn't have enough room to store everything.

Now, we might think this is a wonderful problem to have.

And what does the man decide to do?

Well, he decides to tear down his barns and build bigger ones.

He begins planning his retirement.

He has enough wealth to live comfortably for years.

And then God calls him a fool.

Now, why would Gaul call this man a fool?

Was it because he was wealthy?

Well, no.

Was it because he had worked hard and enjoyed a successful harvest?

No.

Was it because he was planning for his future?

Well, not at all.

The problem wasn't that this man had possessions.

The problem was that his possessions had become the meaning of his life.

But there's something even more revealing in this parable.

Go back and listen to this man's conversation.

He keeps saying, I.

What should I do?

Well, I shall tear down my barns.

I shall build bigger, larger ones, I shall store my grain.

And then he says something extraordinary.

Now, as for you, you have so many good things stored up for many years.

He's actually talking about himself.

Notice that nowhere in the entire conversation does he mention God.

Nowhere does he express gratitude for the harvest.

Nowhere does he think about the poor, his neighbors, or anyone else who might benefit from his abundance.

His entire world has become himself.

And this is where today's gospel becomes very personal.

Because we don't have to be wealthy to fall into that same trap.

We can become so consumed with our careers, our responsibilities, our homes, our investments, and even our plans for retirement that we forget that to ask the most important question.

What am I actually living for?

And that brings us to today's first reading from St.

Paul.

Paul writes to the Ephesians and he gives us one of the most beautiful descriptions.

He says, For by grace you have been saved through faith.

And this is not from you, it is a gift of God.

Now, here's a little theology that every Catholic should understand.

The word grace comes from the Greek word caris, which means gift or favor.

And when the church speaks about grace, she's speaking about an extraordinary gift from God, God's own divine life freely given to us.

We cannot purchase it, we cannot manufacture it, and we certainly can't earn our way to heaven as though salvation were some kind of financial transaction.

Everything begins with God's initiative.

St.

Paul tells us that even when we were spiritually dead because of our sins, God brought us back to life in Christ.

Think about that.

The rich man in the gospel believed that life consisted of everything he had accumulated.

But Saint Paul reminds us that real life is something we receive from God, not something we can accumulate for ourselves.

And that brings us beautifully to the saints we celebrate today.

Saint John Brewf and Saint Isaac Jogues, Jesuit missionaries who traveled from France to North America during the 17th century.

They were to proclaim the gospel among the indigenous peoples of what we now call Canada and northeastern the United States, and their lives were anything but comfortable.

Brewf spent years learning the language and customs of the Huron and Wendet people.

He endured bitter winters, disease, hunger, and tremendous hardships.

Isaac Joges was captured in 1642, tortured, and held captive.

Several of his fingers were chewed off, mutilated.

Eventually escaped and returned to France.

Here's something remarkable.

He goes back to North America.

In everything he had suffered, he continues his missionary work, knowing very well what could happen to him.

He was killed in 1646.

Brewwolf was martyred in 1649.

Their missionary history unfolded amid complicated relationships and violent conflicts among European settlers and indigenous nations.

But their personal willingness to suffer for the gospel remains an extraordinary witness.

Think about the contrast with today's gospel.

The rich man spent his life building bigger barns to protect everything he had.

These missionaries gave up nearly everything they had because they believed that they already had received the greatest treasure imaginable, Jesus Christ Himself.

One man lived as though his security depended on what he could keep.

The martyrs lived knowing that their ultimate security rested on the one to whom they belonged to.

And perhaps that's the question we should carry with us today.

If God were to call me home tonight, what would I have to show for the life I have given him?

The life that he has given me.

Not how much money I made, now how beautiful my house was, now how successful my career became, but how much I loved, how generous I gave, how faithfully I lived, how seriously I took the gift of faith.

Because one day every possession we own will belong to someone else.

But the love we've given, the good we've done through God's grace and the life we have lived in friendship with Christ has eternal significance.

The tragedy of the rich man was not that he had too many things.

It was that he had forgotten what everything was for.

So today we ask God for his grace to enjoy his blessings without becoming prisoners to them, to work hard without forgetting why we work, and to remember the richest person in the world is not the one who has the most or has accumulated the most.

The richest man in the world is the one who knows what matters most his relationship with Jesus Christ.

Amen.