A man boarded a train, settled into his seat, and immediately fell asleep. Hours later, he woke up, looked through the window, and realized that the landscape was unfamiliar. He called the conductor and asked, “How much longer before we arrive?” The conductor examined his ticket and replied, “Sir, this train is moving in the opposite direction.” The man had a comfortable seat. His luggage was safely stored. The train was moving quickly and arrived at every station on schedule. Everything seemed to be working, except that he was going the wrong way.
Speed is useless when the direction is wrong. Similarly, success is dangerous when we have never asked where it is taking us. Many people spend their lives praying for faster trains: more money, more recognition, more opportunities, more influence. But what good is receiving everything we request if we lack the wisdom to know the worth of everything we receive?
In today’s first reading, God tells Solomon, “Ask something of me, and I will give it to you.” Solomon could have requested wealth, long life, victory, or the death of his enemies. Instead, he asks for an understanding heart, to distinguish right from wrong and govern God’s people wisely. Solomon understood that a crown without wisdom can become a curse. Solomon does not ask God to make his journey faster. He asks for an understanding heart to guide the journey. Because the most important question is not, “How far have I gone?” It is, “Am I moving in the right direction?”
In this Liturgical Year A, we are at the end of the 13th chapter of the Gospel according to Matthew; this chapter is called the discourse of the parables. Two Sundays ago, Jesus gave us the parable of the Sower and asked what kind of soil receives God’s word. Last Sunday, the wheat and weeds taught us patience while good and evil grew together. Today, the buried treasure, the pearl, and the net bring us to a decision. This is the movement of this Chapter: (1) Hear the Word, (2) Let it grow, and (3) Decide what it is worth.
Jesus says the kingdom of heaven is like treasure hidden in a field. A man finds it, hides it again, and “out of joy” sells everything to buy that field. Then Jesus describes a merchant searching for fine pearls. When he finds one pearl of great price, he sells everything and buys it. Notice the joy. Neither man walks away complaining, “Look at everything I lost.” They know what they have found. Their sacrifice makes sense because they recognize the treasure’s value.
Christianity becomes exhausting when we see God only as someone taking things away: my freedom, my time, my money, my Sunday morning; my preferred lifestyle. But when we discover Christ as the treasure, obedience stops looking like deprivation. It becomes an exchange: something temporary for something eternal, something that controls us for the One who can save us. The question is not simply, “Do I believe in God?” The deeper question is, “What is God worth to me?” We say God comes first, but our calendars, spending, screens, ambitions, and resentments may tell another story. We may protect a secret habit more fiercely than our relationship with God. We may sacrifice prayer for entertainment, integrity for promotion, family for success, or peace for the satisfaction of winning an argument. Whatever we refuse to surrender has quietly become our pearl of great price.
That is why Solomon’s prayer is so necessary today. With science and technology, we have more information than previous generations, but information is not wisdom. Our phones can answer almost any question except the most important one: “What is worth wanting?” Wisdom is the grace to distinguish what is urgent from what is important, what shines from what has value, and what feels good now from what leads to life.
Saint Paul says that all things work for good for those who love God. He does not say that all things are good. Betrayal is not good. Illness is not good. Grief is not good. But when our lives belong to God, even what wounds us can become material in the hands of grace. God can turn scars into compassion, failure into humility, delay into maturity, and suffering into a doorway through which we discover treasures we previously ignored.
Today’s Gospel also helps us understand the Liturgy of the Word at Mass. The readings are not the opening act before the “important part.” When Scripture is proclaimed in the Church, Christ is present and speaks to his people. The Liturgy of the Word is fruitful only when we listen like treasure hunters. Some hear the readings and homilies to find faults. Others listen only for something that confirms what they already believe. A disciple listens with Solomon’s prayer: “Lord, give me an understanding heart. Show me what to keep, what to change, and what to surrender.
Then Jesus tells the parable of the net. At the end, Jesus asks his disciples, “Do you understand all these things?” They answer, “Yes.” But understanding a parable is not merely explaining it. We understand the treasure when we choose it. We understand the pearl when we release what prevents us from possessing it. We understand the Word when it changes the way we live. One day, everything we are holding will leave our hands. The only question is whether we exchanged the temporary for the eternal or lost the eternal trying to hold the temporary. That is the wisdom placed before us today.
Homily for 17th Sunday in Ordinary Time Year A 2026
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