A Homily for Friday in the 11th Week in Ordinary Time
Friday, June 19, 2026
Prince of Peace Catholic Church – 8:00 Mass
2 Kings 11:1-4, 9-18, 20; Psalm 132:11, 12, 13-14, 17-18; Matthew 6:19-23
Audio Recording
One of the challenges of hearing the Old Testament proclaimed at Mass is that we often drop into the middle of a story without knowing what came before. Today’s first reading is one of those moments. We hear about Athaliah trying to kill the royal family, a child hidden away, and a young king suddenly being crowned. Without the background, it can sound like something out of a political thriller—or perhaps an episode of Game of Thrones, except with better morals and fewer dragons.
Athaliah was the mother of King Ahaziah. Yeah, I had to practice those names a few times myself. Sometimes I think the Lord included these names just to keep lectors humble.
Athaliah was the daughter—or granddaughter—of the infamous Jezebel and came from the house of Ahab. She brought with her all the corruption and idolatry for which that family had become known. When her son Ahaziah died, her lust for power was so great that she ordered the murder of the royal heirs—including her own grandsons—so that she alone could occupy the throne. Such was the depth of her lust for power.
Yet one little boy survived: Joash, the rightful king in the line of David. Through that line God had promised that the Messiah would one day come. Humanly speaking, the entire Davidic dynasty—and with it, God’s promise—seemed to hang by a thread.
That is why today’s psalm is so important. We heard, “The Lord swore to David a firm promise from which he will not withdraw: ‘Your own offspring I will set upon your throne.’” Imagine how impossible those words must have sounded while Athaliah sat on the throne and the rightful king was a hidden child. It looked as though God’s promise had failed. But God’s promise was hidden, not broken. The throne of David survived because God is faithful, even when His plans seem to be hanging by a thread.
God had not abandoned His promise. Joash was rescued by his aunt Jehosheba and hidden in the Temple under the protection of the high priest Jehoiad. For six years he remained hidden, until the day came when he was revealed, crowned king, and the covenant with the Lord was renewed.
It is a remarkable story because everything seemed lost. Evil appeared to have won. A ruthless queen occupied the throne. The rightful king was just a child hidden away. Yet God was quietly at work through faithful people who trusted Him.
Indeed, as the Catechism reminds us, “Nothing is more apt to confirm our faith and hope than holding it fixed in our minds that nothing is impossible with God.” (CCC 274)
And that brings us to Jesus’ words in the Gospel. Jesus reveals the contrast between Athaliah and those faithful servants who protected Joash. Jesus says, “Where your treasure is, there also will your heart be.” Athaliah’s treasure was power, and her heart became darkened. Her desire to possess the throne led her to destroy others—even members of her own family. Jehoiada and Jehosheba treasured God’s covenant, and because their hearts were fixed on the Lord, they became instruments of His saving plan.
That same question comes to us. What do we treasure most? We may not be fighting over kingdoms—although some families have had spirited discussions over who gets Grandma’s china cabinet—but we all make choices that reveal where our hearts are. Some treasure wealth, success, comfort, reputation, or control. None of those things are evil in themselves, but if they become our ultimate treasure, they can slowly darken our vision.
Perhaps one reason so many people today live with anxiety is that we sometimes place our treasure in things that can be lost. Health changes. Possessions wear out. Bank accounts fluctuate. Loved ones are taken from us. But treasures laid up in heaven—faith, hope, charity, prayer, acts of mercy, fidelity to Christ—cannot be stolen or destroyed.
As we come to this altar, we place our treasure where it belongs. We do not come to receive something that moths can consume or thieves can steal. We come to receive Christ Himself. And when Christ becomes our treasure, our hearts become filled with His light, and no earthly loss can take away the riches He gives.
For where our treasure is, there also will our heart be. Amen.