Homily for Twenty-Second Sunday – 30 August 2026

Discover what truly satisfies the deepest longing in your soul

There is an empty space within each of us which is God shaped and only God can fill this emptiness, this longing within us.

Let’s face it: there is something confusing and illogical about losing one’s life in order to save it. How is it true that those who want to save their lives will lose them and those who lose their lives for Jesus’ sake will find them?

The sense of humour of Teresa of Avila, the 16th-century saint and doctor of the Church, is delightfully refreshing. A famous story perfectly sums her up: One day, as St Teresa made her way to her convent during a heavy rainstorm, she slipped down an embankment and fell squarely into the mud. She looked up to heaven and humorously reprimanded God, saying, “If this is how you treat your friends, no wonder you have so few of them!”

This same nun with a great sense of humour said that prayer is nothing else than an intimate sharing between friends; it means taking time frequently to be alone with him who we know loves us. St Teresa was someone who entered into a profound friendship with Jesus. She gave her life entirely to him. She knew that to give your life to Jesus, to lose your life for Jesus’ sake, is to find true life.

Where our true treasure lies

We are made for the fullness of true life, giving glory to God. And we can give ourselves entirely to this because “to fall in love with God is the greatest romance; to seek him the greatest adventure; to find him, the great human achievement.” These beautiful words from St Augustine tell us where our true treasure lies. To be human is to long for meaning and purpose. We are deeply spiritual beings and our souls long for that which truly satisfies. There is an empty space within each of us which is God shaped and only God can fill this emptiness, this longing within us.

St Irenaeus said, “The glory of God is a human person fully alive.” This means that God delights in us experiencing that fullness of life — and today’s first reading shows us where the search for it begins.

The prophet Jeremiah in a moment

The prophet Jeremiah in a moment of weakness. His lamentation contains some of the strongest language of doubt and complaining found in the Bible. He had answered God’s call, and had been a faithful prophet, but now he feels abandoned. Preaching the Word of God has brought him only mocking and opposition.

And yet despite his inner suffering he is captivated by God. He speaks of God seducing him, or deceiving him, and himself allowing God to seduce him. He considers the possibility of refusing to prophesy, but then he reflects that in his heart there is a burning fire that cannot be contained. He knows he cannot stop speaking in God’s name.

Perhaps some of us have found the life of Christian discipleship difficult at times, filled with doubts, our sufferings seeming to make no sense spiritually, tempted to give it all up and go another path. If so, we would be in good company with Jeremiah.

To make sense of the mysterious

It would be like someone who is exhausted and burnt-out from trying to do too much, from encountering too much suffering, from trying to make sense of the mysterious ways of God. And yet, the connection to Christ, the presence of Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament, made it impossible to walk away, to look elsewhere. This person’s heart would be captivated by God, hanging in there, hoping for more, waiting for light.

As Peter said, when many of Jesus’ disciples left him after his teaching on the Eucharist, “Lord, to whom would we go? You have the words of eternal life.” Even though discipleship is tough and challenging, we have to do it because deep down we know it to be true, it is what we are longing for in the depths of our hearts. And, honestly, where would we go? To whom else would we go? A fire would burn in our hearts and in our bones.

This deep identity we carry within us is marked by a longing for God so beautifully expressed in the responsorial psalm for this Mass. We prayed, “O God, you are my God; at dawn I seek you; for you my soul is thirsting. For you my flesh is pining, like a dry, weary land without water.” Our desire for God is like a thirsting for wate in the desert. All of us need to get in touch with this longing within ourselves. This fire burning within our hearts will cause us to persevere in that which is essential, the one thing necessary, our life with God.

To take up a cross

What Jeremiah learnt through experience, Jesus states explicitly in today’s Gospel. To follow Jesus is to take up a cross, to deny oneself. Denying ourselves means denying our own priorities, preferences, and comforts. It is to be willing to give it all up, even life itself, for the sake of the gospel. As Paul says in today’s second reading from the Letter to the Romans, we have to offer our bodies — our whole beings — as a living sacrifice to God. The word sacrifice in itself should indicate to us that this is no easy thing, that there is bound to be discomfort.

This Gospel message sounds a bit ominous. The language of self-denial and taking up our crosses sounds rather gloomy. But the key to understanding this teaching of Jesus is the nature of the self that Jesus is calling on us to deny, and the nature of the cross that Jesus asks us to carry. The self that Jesus calls us to deny is not our true self; it is the false self that is inward looking, selfish and self-seeking. We are asked to deny that aspect of ourselves which is focussed entirely on ourselves and on our comfort, regardless of the needs of others or a sense of our own need for God.

But how difficult this is to understand and to actually put into practice! In today’s Gospel we see that Peter himself doesn’t yet understand this. In the same way that it was difficult for Jeremiah, the cross is a stumbling block for Peter. This too is our natural temptation — to refuse to believe that our sufferings and difficulties play a necessary part in God’s plan