27th Sunday in Ordinary Time (A) – October 4, 2026
St. Joseph – Wichita, KS
Isaiah 5:1-7; Psalm 80:9, 12-16, 19-20; Philippians 4:6-9; Matthew 21:33-43
Paul and the Philippians
The past several weeks we’ve been reading from St. Paul’s letter to the church in Philippi. Philippians is one of the most popular of Paul’s letters. It is only four chapters long, takes up three pages in the Bible. You could read it in ten minutes. And I think it’s especially potent in our day and age. Because in a certain way, the church in Philippi and the church in our world today is very similar.
The Philippians lived in a world that was inundated with secular ideology, pagan practices, and moral debauchery; they were persecuted for their faith. Every day they were faced with a government that shared almost none of the values they held. These Philippian Christians were faced with secular leaders that were arrogant, rude, power-hungry. Slavery was fine. Racism, intolerance, bigotry, prejudice. Abortion was just fine. The poor were neglected. Taxes were unfair. The list goes on! This is what the Philippians woke up to every morning. And so every day they had to be thinking, “Not so great being a citizen of this place!”
And so it’s clear that a big question, the question they had to ask each and every day was: in the face of all of this, what are we supposed to do? And Paul has a simple answer, simple answer at the start of the letter that frames the whole letter—we heard it a few weeks ago. Paul told them, “In the face of all of this, conduct yourselves in a way worthy of the gospel of Christ” (cf. Phil 1:27). Cu-lassssic Paul! People are just looking for some good advice, just want some simple answers, a little letter that tells you what to do. And what does Paul write them? “Conduct yourselves in a way worthy of the gospel.” Great. What that point?
“Conduct yourselves” = “Behave as citizens”
But that simple command from Paul is the point! That simple command: “conduct yourselves.” Conduct yourselves—politeuomai (πολιτεύομαι) in Greek—means “be a citizen,” or, “behave as citizens.” Literally, Paul commands the Philippians, “In the midst of all that is going on, behave as citizens of the gospel.” Later on in the letter, Paul is going to say, “Our citizenship [same derivative] is in heaven” (Phil 3:20). Behave as citizens of heaven. And so what is he saying? “Stop caring about this world and just wait until you die and go to heaven”? No! That’s not how citizenship worked then.
Remember, these Christians are in Philippi. At that time, Philippi was a Roman colony in northern Greece. And the “citizens” of Philippi were actually Roman citizens, retired Roman soldiers from the civil war—Paul himself held Roman citizenship, a Roman “passport.” And since Rome was overcrowded, and Caesar didn’t need a bunch of ex-soldiers getting restless and hungry in Rome, he settled them in Philippi. So think: as “citizens of Rome” living outside of Rome, living in Philippi, what were these ex-soldiers supposed to do? What did it mean to “behave as citizens of Rome”? Well, it meant to spread the culture and civilization of Rome where you lived. When in Rome, do as the Romans do, when in Philippi, keep doing as the Romans do!
So notice the move Paul is making—it’s genius! Paul urges the Christians, even in the midst of this culture, even in this place where the values and morals they embraced were not valued or accepted—Paul urges the Christians to live the newness of the gospel, their “heavenly citizenship,” in the midst of this. “Behave as citizens of the gospel.” Just like Roman live their Roman citizenship outside of Rome, live your heavenly citizenship outside of heaven.
God Does Not Think As We Think
So notice: Paul is encouraging an entirely new way of thinking, a new vision of reality. He’s picking up on that line from Isaiah, “My thoughts are not your thoughts, nor are your ways my ways, says the LORD” (Isaiah 55:8). Paul urges the Philippians to stop thinking as the world thinks and to start seeing things through the divine vision, or as he said last week, “Put on the mind of the Messiah, the mind of Christ” (cf. Phil 2:5). Because what happens? When we get stuck in our own way of thinking, when we get entrenched in our own ideologies—when we spend day after day after day thinking and complaining about the world and the country, politics and power and money—when this is our vision of reality, when this is how we view the world, what happens?? It only ends up in frustration, anxiety, despair, division. It ends up in the echo chambers called cable news.
But Paul is saying, “Yes, you live in a broken and backwards world. Yes, it is frustrating. And yes, there doesn’t seem to be much hope that things are going to get better. But, look at it with the divine vision! Put on the mind of the Messiah! And behave as citizens of the gospel, as citizens of heaven. Behave as servants of Jesus Christ, the true Lord!”
Have No Anxiety At All
So with that in mind, take a look at our reading today. Again, on the surface, Paul seems to be living in La La Land. I mean, sometimes Paul says stuff and you think, “Paul, are you a human being? Do you know any human beings?” Paul says: “Have no anxiety at all. Don’t worry about anything” (Phil 4:6).
We hear this, and we immediately check out. “Ok, this is stupid.” Why? Because life is full of anxiety! The stats say that around 20% of the nation is walking around with clinical levels of anxiety—1 in 5 people! We have anxiety! We worry about our jobs and careers, the future of our job, money, debt, makings ends meet. We worry about our close relationships: our kids, our partner. We worry and have anxiety about our health. We worry about the country, politics, wars. The list never ends! And Paul says, almost casually, “Have no anxiety at all”??
Why does Paul have the audacity to say that? What is it? How, in the midst of all that’s going on in Philippi, all that’s going on in the world—and Paul’s in prison when he writes this, remember that too, so it’s not peachy for him—how can Paul just tell us not to worry and not to be anxious? It’s because Paul is living as a citizen of the Gospel, Paul has put on the mind of the Messiah, and, because of that… Paul can see clearly, see reality in a completely new and positive way. Reality, life, life after Jesus’ incarnation, death, resurrection and ascension—reality is positive.
Because of Jesus Christ, Reality is Positive
Paul had this incredible ability to see all of reality as positive. But he could do this because he could see everything within his heavenly and gospel citizenship; he was living with the mind of Jesus Christ.
“Anxiety” or “worry”: this word that Paul uses shares its root with the word “memory.” Anxiety and worry flow from our memory, or rather, from what our memory does or doesn’t focus on. If you are worried about a test in school, it can easily be from the fact that you’re not a good test taker, you don’t do well on tests. If you are anxious about a certain encounter with someone, it can be because of what has happened between you. Our memory, and what our memory focuses on—that’s the source.
Again, think of the Philippians. They were living in the middle of the Roman Empire. They had watched people get killed for the faith. One of Rome’s tactics for instilling fear was to turn people into human lamp-posts—put a person on a pole and set them on fire. These Christians could conjure up a few recent and vivid memories of why things may not be so peachy and anxiety free.
So what was Paul thinking? What was he remembering? What gave him such great confidence and peace? Why could he so easily and casually say, “Have no anxiety at all. Don’t worry about anything?” Paul remembered one simple fact: Jesus already won.
I can’t remember if I shared this with you before—how winning decisive battles worked back in the day. But after his father Julius Caesar was killed, there was a civil war between Augustus (Octavian) and Mark Antony. And Augustus won! At the battle of Actium Augustus won the final victory, the decisive battle! He was now Caesar and emperor of the whole Roman world! But news didn’t travel fast, soldiers didn’t travel fast, and it took time to squelch the rest of the revolts. And so even though the decisive battle was won at Actium, there was still a lot of work to be done to establish Augustus’ rule throughout the Roman Empire. There was a time of tension between the decisive victory and the completion of his rule.
This is how Paul sees things. Paul knows with certainty that Jesus won the decisive battle: by his cross and resurrection he has won the battle for the world, he won the victory over the powers of sin and death. By his ascension he has been enthroned as King. But—and this is the point—but that doesn’t mean that there are not still people revolting against his status as King, that doesn’t mean that people are willing to give up their old way of living and be part of this new Kingdom. That work will only be finished when Jesus returns. And that’s precisely what we affirm every Mass about Christ: “We proclaim you death, O Lord, and profess your resurrection, until you come again.” We proclaim your victory (death and resurrection), until you come again and complete the work.
But Jesus has already won. Jesus is now Lord of the world. Everything is in his hands. And Paul remembers that: Jesus is Lord, and because of that, we don’t have to worry.
Friends, this is the challenge for us: What does our memory focus on? With what do we constantly fill our minds and hearts? If all we do is consume a steady diet of cable news, social media news, podcasts, blogs, politics, church politics—all of which are designed to incite anger and worry (because that’s what sells!)—if we have a steady diet of that, if that is what our minds and hearts, our memory is consumed with, yes, anxiety and worry is the only response. I discovered that when I got off social media—I’m off it!—, when I just scan the headlines real quick to keep up on things, when I spend time consumed by prayer, the scriptures, friendships, real life—when I am consumed by “whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, pure, lovely, gracious, any excellence, anything worthy of praise”—whenever I “think about these things,” then I experience the reality Paul is talking about: the peace of God that surpasses all understanding, guarding my heart and my mind in Christ Jesus (cf. Phil. 4:6-9).
In the Eucharist, we remember (anamnesis) the history of salvation. We proclaim the death of Jesus and profess his resurrection, his decisive victory. And we confidently await his second coming. It is within this great Mystery, within God’s own Mystery, that we can see the ultimate positivity with regards to reality. We can see our reason for giving thanks. In the reality of what is happening on this altar, we can remember, truly focus on and remember, the reason for our hope. Jesus already won. And that changes our lives.