23rd Sunday of Ordinary Time, A September 9, 2026
Fr. Alexander Albert St. Mary Magadalen, Abbeville, LA
Towards the end of her life, Mother Teresa had become quite famous and was beloved by most of the world. The Nobel Prize in 1979, articles and covers on major publications, speaking engagements at the national and international level… these helped her work get attention and funding, so Mother Teresa was willing to accept the popularity. At the US National Prayer Breakfast in 1994, however, Mother Teresa famously preached against abortion despite knowing it would upset the Clinton administration that invited her.
Why bite the hand that feeds, as they say? Why risk losing the publicity, support, and funding that could come from having the approval of the president and his cabinet? Especially when she probably knew that her words wouldn’t change their minds, why risk it? Because Mother Teresa knew about this passage from the prophet Ezekiel which tells us that that, when God tells you to warn someone, you better warn them whether or not you think they’ll listen.
More importantly, Mother Teresa knew that truth is more important than popularity and love is more important than funding. Mother Teresa loved the people at that prayer breakfast. She even went to Hillary Clinton personally, who described the encounter: “Mother Teresa was unerringly direct. She disagreed with my views… and told me so.” Mother Teresa loved Hillary enough to risk losing her support.
The question these readings pose to us is this: do you love people more than you love their approval? Do you love family more than you love their affection? Do you love your friends enough to risk losing their friendship? St. Paul tells us, “love is the fulfillment of the law.” Getting to heaven means keeping the commandments… not just avoiding sin but loving. Love is more “than do no harm,” it is to will the good of the other, to choose to act in a way that genuinely benefits them. Sometimes, what benefits another person also offends them.
This is why Jesus speaks this way today. Most people know Jesus teaches us to forgive others every time they sin against us. Far fewer people seem to remember that he also tells us to correct people when they sin against us. “If your brother sins against you, go and tell him his fault.” He doesn’t say, “ignore it” or “pretend it’s no big deal.” He certainly doesn’t say “complain to other people about it.” He says to “go tell him” and he says to do it “between you and him alone.”
As a pastor, it is my job to tell you when you’re disobeying Jesus kinda like Ezekiel had to tell people in his day. So, hear me! If you don’t tell a fellow believer about their sin, you’re disobeying Jesus. If you go tell other people about a fellow believer’s sin, you’re disobeying Jesus. If I fail to warn you about your disobedience and sin and if you fail to warn fellow believers about their disobedience and sin, we will share their guilt! I don’t know about you, but I’ve got enough of my own sins that I certainly don’t need to share the blame for anyone else’s!
Now, it’s not like Jesus means we should constantly point out other people’s faults. He’s got a whole other teaching about the speck your neighbor’s eye versus the log in your own. If the person already knows they’ve done wrong, they already know – no need to mention it. If the person isn’t sinning against you personally in some significant way, you probably shouldn’t get involved. At the same time, the Church is the body of Christ and the sin of every member of that body affects the whole body. That’s why Mother Teresa spoke up at the prayer breakfast.
So, as with all virtue, there is a balance between extremes. On one extreme, we can’t be so worried about being liked that we never correct people even when their sins are serious or affect a lot of people. On the other, we cannot be so critical that we’re constantly correcting people we barely know over stuff that barely affects us.
When we do correct someone out of obedience to what Jesus teaches us today – what we call “fraternal correction – it is critical that we do it with love. Hillary Clinton wrote that, “Mother Teresa was unerringly direct,” but also that she “sent me dozens of notes and messages with the same gentle entreaty” and “never lectured or scolded me; her admonitions were always loving and heartfelt.” It didn’t change her mind, but it made an impression and Mother Teresa’s public witness inspires pro-life efforts to this day.
Not that we should expect every admonition to go that well. No one tried to kill Mother Teresa for her boldness, but Blessed Stanley Rother died for doing his duty as a priest in admonishing Guatemalan officials for their mistreatment of their own citizens. Bishops, priests, administrators, and teachers in the church frequently face rejection and outright fury for proclaiming Church teaching and for making tough decisions that they know are good for the very people who are angry with them. There are people in this church right now who have lost friends or been cut off from family members because they spoke a tough truth or stood firm in an unpopular decision.
Why? Why risk upsetting a congregation, alienating a friend, or losing a donor? Sure, there are plenty of bad reasons to be critical or offensive, but that doesn’t change the fact that there is a good reason… the best reason to confront another person for their sins: love.
It’s easy to hide behind a softer definition of love, to let the vagueness of the word hide the truth. “I love them and I don’t want to lose that, so I won’t challenge them. God is love, right? So he must be okay with it.” Well, we also say love is blind. Does that mean God is blind because he is love? No, of course not. That’s two different meanings for the word love. Real love is to choose what is good – what is objectively good – for another person. If I’m doing something that will kill me, it is love to stop me. If I’m doing something that will lead me to hell, it is love to try to convince me to stop. Jesus explicitly tells us how to do that. Start one-on-one. Then bring a friend or two. Then, tell the Church. The last resort is excommunication – a declaration that says “we won’t cooperate with you in lying to yourself and others. Do what you want, but we won’t help or let you pretend it’s the Christian thing to do.”
If our decisions are motivated by “I don’t want to lose the approval or affection of this person,” then it is not real love. Likewise, if we correct people out of pride or vengeance or to distract ourselves from our own pains and faults… that’s not love either. This double-edge, this confusing balance between extremes is precisely why the crucifixion is so powerful. It’s too easy to deceive ourselves, to claim we love someone when really we love the way they make us feel. It’s too easy to claim we love someone when really we just like the way we feel when we correct them or punish them.
But what about when there’s no gain for us? When the cost to us is so high that there’s no other explanation for our motivation? Why did Jesus preach and teach in a way that got him killed, especially when he had the power to just stop it? Because he willed our good, chose what is good for us even when we didn’t want it. That will, the love is still at work today. The Church, the bride of Christ, the body of Christ also loves us like that, loves us with hard truths and tough disciplines even when we don’t want them because they are good for us.
That leaves two questions, then. First, will you accept that love from Christ and his Church. Second, are you willing to offer that same love to everyone else? Will you offer it to the point of being nailed to the same cross on which Christ died for love of them and for love of you?