A homily for the Thirtieth Sunday in Ordinary Time, October 26, 2025
Sirach 35:12-14, 16-18, 2 Timothy 4:6-8, 16-18, Luke 18:9-14
About 600 years before Jesus called out the Pharisees and other leaders of the people as hypocrites, the Greek moralist Aesop told a fable about a frog and an ox.
A baby frog came back to the family pond all excited because he’d seen a farmer walking with a huge animal called an ox. It was the biggest thing he’d ever seen, with huge horns and leather skin. It was bigger than the biggest rock or lily pad any of the frogs had ever hopped on.
But the mother frog, who had a streak of excessive pride, refused to believe there was anything that big.
She took a deep breath, puffed herself up a bit, and asked her baby if the so-called ox was as big as she was.
Bigger, the little frog said.
So Mama Frog puffed herself up twice as big as before. Nope; the ox is way bigger, Junior told her.
Then Ms. Frog inhaled as much as she possibly could, swelling up like a blimp, and she popped — she exploded! — horrifying her young’uns.
Yikes.
Aesop gave this fable a double moral: Trying to be more than you are, or someone or something you’re not, often leads to disaster. And it’s foolish to compare ourselves with other people. We are unique, and we should cherish that.
Wise man, that Aesop.
Wise man, that Jesus.
Today’s Gospel parable, with its similar story, goes way beyond Aesop. In today’s Gospel, Jesus adds deep nuance to how the deadly sin of excessive pride plays out, and how it can be overcome.
In this parable, not only does the Pharisee march right up to the front of the temple area and puff himself up like Mama Frog — as if God needed to hear any of this man’s supposed bona fides — but then the Pharisee proceeds to ridicule the tax collector at the back.
By trying to grind the simple sinner into the dirt, the Pharisee does become bigger.
A bigger sinner.
A bigger sinner than anyone else, let alone the man who admits he makes mistakes.
It’s the tax collector in the back of the temple who shines a light on Christ’s message.
In admitting we’re imperfect, that we make mistakes, we begin to repair our relationship with God. By admitting we strayed, by asking for God’s forgiveness, and then promising to do our best to avoid making those mistakes, committing those sins, we get back on the right track.
We continue our journey toward the kingdom of God.
Like the tax collector, we can pray, “O God, be merciful to me, a sinner.”
And our ever-loving, all-forgiving God will welcome us back once again. Again and again. Always.
Excessive pride is what’s called a zero-sum game. For us to win, someone has to lose. Often, someone has to lose big. Often, many people have to lose and lose big.
This supposed “victory” comes at too high a cost.
Anytime we try to advance ourselves unfairly by trampling on other people, we throw away pieces of our humanity. By denying other people their dignity, we lose our own.
We become shallow. Nasty. Angry all the time. When we act entitled, when we act as if we’re privileged, when we make ourselves out to be better than everybody else, we actually wind up making ourselves insignificant. And then we say we’re the victim.
Psychologists say hurt people hurt people. People who display excessive pride — the kind of pride that goes before a fall, as the expression goes — people who reek of excessive pride are hurt people.
By now, you’ve noticed an adjective I’ve used a lot: “excessive.” Though pride is listed first among the Seven Deadly Sins — Pride, Greed, Wrath, Envy, Lust, Gluttony and Sloth — there can be a positive side to pride, if it’s in the proper amount.
We can be proud of our accomplishments and achievements when they benefit our sisters and brothers.
We can be proud when we have used our God-given gifts as our Creator intended. We can be proud whenever we leave people or places better than we found them.
Rightfully proud. Not excessively.
It’s not an oxymoron to call that humble pride, because this humble pride shows we’re grateful to God for our lives and gifts. Our unique gifts. Who we are, deep down. The way we fit into the staggeringly massive jigsaw puzzle of the human race and all of Creation. The way we help complete this beautiful puzzle.
Excessive pride does indeed go before a fall. Let’s avoid that fall. Let’s all be proud to be standing and journeying together with Christ.
