Eighteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time
Vanity, Anxiety, and the Hidden Life in God
A Special Announcement
I will be running a live Sacred Music Foundations event which will cover three of the most important topics in sacred music, give you resources for study, and allow you to implement new systems at your parish for liturgical renewal.
If this is something you or someone you know may be interested in, please check out the following link. Otherwise, on to this weeks article.
I will never forget the first liturgy that I attended in the Catholic Church. It was the funeral mass of my great grandmother at Sacred Heart in Pomona, CA. Every thing about the Catholic faith was new and strange to me at that time. Still, I felt quite at home in the Mass there and then. And I remember this feeling from the funeral—not sadness exactly, but this strange weight in my chest. Like I had just witnessed someone packing up everything they owned… and realizing they couldn’t take any of it with them.
The Gospel this Sunday tells the parable of a rich man who does well by all worldly accounts. His land yields abundantly. He’s productive. Strategic. He builds bigger barns to store it all. Then, he dies. No warning. No inheritance. No legacy. Just a voice from heaven: “You fool, this night your life will be demanded of you.”
That’s the dissonance Ecclesiastes names head-on. Vanity of vanities. All things are vanity. The Hebrew word there is hebel—breath, vapor, a mist that appears and vanishes. Not just possessions, but the illusion that control, output, and accumulation can secure peace. We burn ourselves out planning the “perfect” parish music program, crafting seamless transitions, uploading the right promo posts for a liturgical concert—and then realize: none of it guarantees actual peace. Or presence. Or God.
Paul doesn’t suggest we abandon effort—but he calls for death. Death to false self. “Put to death, then, the parts of you that are earthly…” He names them: greed, impurity, anger, lying, the impulse to grasp and prove. He reminds us who we are: “You have died, and your life is hidden with Christ in God.” Hidden. Not broadcasted, not platformed. Not even “successful.” Just hidden.
I think of St. Benedict’s rule—his insistence that the monk must contemplate his death daily. Not morbidly, but truthfully. Not to disengage from the world, but to reorder it. Music ministers can forget this. We deal in structure: liturgical rubrics, seasonal planning, registration deadlines, budget reports, rehearsal schedules. We build spiritual architecture with real-world tools. And it’s easy to mistake the barn for the treasure. The job for the vocation. The applause for the fruit.
But saints don’t carry barns. They carry mercy.
St. Francis stripped everything. St. Teresa of Calcutta gave away everything, down to her dignity. St. Cecilia sang not for acclaim but from a heart married to Christ. They weren’t chasing influence. They were emptying themselves for love.
So the question we’re left with is painfully simple: What are we storing? And for whom?
What songs are we choosing each Sunday—because they stir conversion, or because they’re safe? Are we spending hours arranging beauty that leads to heaven, or just polishing the surface? Are we rehearsing to impress… or to serve?
The Psalm this Sunday is deceptively short: “If today you hear His voice, harden not your hearts.” But that’s the whole Gospel. Not that you always hear Him—but that when you do, you don’t block it out. The rich man heard the voice too late. His heart had calcified around comfort. His barns were full, but his soul was starved.
Our job isn’t to fill barns. It’s to till soil. To sing songs that loosen hard ground. To prepare hearts for surrender.
I’ve seen it happen—not through fanfare, but through quiet and intimate encounters. A parishioner stays after Mass just to sit. A choir member tears up mid-rehearsal. A psalmist sings, “Teach us to number our days…” and someone hears it differently that week.
That’s ministry. Not the show, but the sowing.
If today you hear His voice, don’t dismiss it. Don’t delay. Don’t cover it with productivity. Listen.
And maybe ask yourself: what’s the barn I’ve been building? And is it keeping me from trusting the One who gives the harvest?
Because God doesn’t ask for our barns. He asks for our hearts.
And He fills them not with grain, but with grace.
Inspiration from across the internet.
→ if you like to bake, like me, then watch this!
→ this may be one of the coolest things I have seen in a while, and it will definitely make you look and hear birds differently
My music of the week.
1) everyone needs a good dose of England and Bach
2) more England, but in the form of musical theatre
General Information - Información General
Color of Vestments - Green
Color de Las Vestiduras - Verde
Song Recommendations
Entrance - For the Beauty of the Earth (DIX) [sheet music] [audio]
Kyrie - Missa Spei
Gloria - Missa Spei
Responsorial Psalm - Psalm 90:3-4, 5-6, 12-13, 14 and 17
Gospel Acclamation - Matthew 5:3
Offertory - All Is Well with My Soul (VILLE DE HAVRE) [sheet music] [audio]
Sanctus - Missa Spei
Mysterium Fidei - Missa Spei
Amen - Missa Spei
Agnus Dei - Missa Spei
Communion 1 - Take and Eat (M. Joncas) [sheet music] [audio]
Meditation - Your Life Will be Demanded of You (Madrigal)
Recessional - Lead Me, Lord (J. D. Becker) [sheet music] [audio]
Recomendaciones de Canciones
Entrance - Alegría de Vivir (M. de Terry) [sheet music] [audio]
Kyrie - Missa Spei
Gloria - Missa Spei
Responsorial Psalm - Salmo 89, 3-4. 5-6. 12-13. 14 y 17
Gospel Acclamation - Mateo 5, 3
Offertory - Ofertorio Nicaragüense (M. Dávla) [sheet music] [audio]
Sanctus - Missa Spei
Mysterium Fidei - Missa Spei
Amen - Missa Spei
Agnus Dei - Missa Spei
Communion 1 - Cuando Comemos Tu Pan (J. Francisco Polanco) [sheet music] [audio]
Meditation - Your Life Will be Demanded of You (Madrigal)
Recessional - Cristo Te Necesita (C. Gabaráin) [sheet music] [audio]
