A Homily for the 17th Sunday in Ordinary Time
Sunday, July 26, 2026
Saturday 4:00 and Sunday 10:00 Masses at Prince of Peace Catholic Church
1 Kings 3:5, 7-12; Psalm 119:57, 72, 76-77, 127-128, 129-130; Romans 8:28-30; Matthew 13:44-52
Audio Recording
Have you ever watched someone make a life-changing decision and thought, “Why would they do that?” Perhaps someone left a successful career to do something that paid far less but gave them greater purpose. Maybe a young couple chose to have another child when everyone else thought they were crazy. Perhaps someone forgave a terrible wrong instead of seeking revenge. Or maybe you’ve known a man who entered the seminary or a woman who entered religious life, giving up marriage and family to follow Christ.
To many people, those decisions make no sense.
But if you were to ask the person who made that choice, they might simply smile and say, “You don’t yet see what I see.”
That simple thought lies at the heart of today’s Gospel.
Jesus tells us about a man who discovers a treasure hidden in a field. He immediately recognizes its value, covers it up again, and sells everything he owns so he can buy the field. Then Jesus tells us about a merchant who finds a pearl of extraordinary value. He, too, sells everything he has in order to possess it.
The remarkable part of both stories isn’t what they gave up. It’s what they found.
No one watching them would have understood. Their neighbors probably thought they had lost their minds. “You’re selling everything…for a field?” “You’re giving up your entire business…for one pearl?” From the outside, their decisions looked foolish because no one else could see what they had discovered. The treasure was hidden.
I think that’s an important detail. The treasure was hidden in plain sight. Anyone could have walked across that field, but only one man recognized what was there.
Isn’t that often how God works? His greatest gifts rarely announce themselves with fanfare. They come quietly, hidden beneath ordinary appearances. The world sees ordinary water; we see the waters of Baptism. The world hears words spoken over a man; we see a man ordained to serve Christ and His Church. The world sees bread and wine; we see the Body and Blood of Jesus Christ. God’s greatest treasures are often hidden in plain sight.
The first reading gives us another example. God appears to Solomon and says, “Ask something of me and I will give it to you.”
What would we ask for? Better health? Financial security? A longer life? Success for our children and grandchildren? None of those would be bad things.
When I was a kid, my friends and I used to play that old game: “If you had three wishes, what would you wish for?” I thought I was pretty clever. My third wish was always for three more wishes. I figured I had found a way to beat the system.
Solomon could have played that game. God had essentially given him a blank check. He could have asked for wealth, power, fame, a long life, or victory over his enemies.
But Solomon surprised everyone. He asked for wisdom.
Why? Because wisdom enables us to recognize the treasure when everyone else walks right past it. Wealth without wisdom can be squandered. Power without wisdom can become destructive. Success without wisdom can leave a person empty. Solomon asked for the one gift that would help him recognize every other gift in its proper place.
Then St. Paul reminds us that “all things work together for good for those who love God.” He doesn’t say that all things are good. Illness isn’t good. Grief isn’t good. Loss isn’t good. But when Christ is the treasure of our lives, even our painful moments become places where God is quietly at work. We may not understand His plan at the time, but we trust that He sees a much bigger picture than we do.
So what does this mean for us today?
First, we should pray for Solomon’s wisdom. Every day we’re surrounded by things competing for our attention. Some are urgent. Others are simply shiny. Some promise happiness but can never truly satisfy. Wisdom helps us recognize the difference between what is merely valuable and what is eternally priceless.
Second, we should remember that following Christ is never primarily about what we give up. It’s about what we gain. Sometimes people think Christianity is a long list of sacrifices and rules. Jesus tells a different story. The man in the field didn’t sell everything because he had to. He sold everything because he wanted to. Once he had found the treasure, everything else seemed small. When we truly encounter Christ, our priorities begin to change, not because we’re forced to change them, but because we’ve found something infinitely better.
If I’m honest, there are many days when I don’t see the treasure as clearly as I should. I can become distracted by the urgent or the shiny and lose sight of the eternal. I can spend more time contemplating what won’t last than pursuing what will. That’s why I need today’s Gospel as much as anyone. Jesus keeps inviting me to look again, to recognize the treasure, and to choose it above everything else.
Finally, our lives should make other people curious. There should be enough joy in us, enough peace in us, enough generosity in us that others begin to wonder what we’ve discovered. They may not yet share our faith. They may not yet understand why we come to Mass every Sunday, why we forgive, why we pray, or why we continue to hope even when life is difficult. That’s okay.
They don’t yet see what we see. But if they see Christ alive in us, perhaps one day they’ll discover the treasure for themselves. After all, that’s how most of us discovered it. Someone first showed us Christ by the way they lived.
In just a few moments, we’ll come forward to receive Jesus Himself. To anyone walking in off the street, this might look like nothing more than a simple religious ritual. They would see a small piece of bread placed into someone’s hand or on their tongue.
But we see something more. We see the hidden treasure. We see Jesus Christ, giving Himself completely to us.
That hidden treasure now comes to us in the Eucharist.
And once we have found that treasure, everything else finally finds its proper place.
“Amen”?

