The Language of Praise

Homily for the Twenty-first Sunday in Ordinary Time

Paul’s doxology in chapter eleven of his Letter to the Romans is a proclamation of what the mystery of God truly is—a vast, generous, unsearchable mercy that holds the entire human story. For our Sunday assembly, this passage becomes an invitation for all of us to stand together in wonder, trust, and praise.

Paul brings us today to the high point of his reflection on God’s saving work. After tracing the long arc of God’s fidelity, from Israel’s calling to the gathering of the nations, Paul reaches a moment where the only fitting response is worship. He does not retreat from mystery; he steps into it with reverence.

“Oh, the depth of the riches and wisdom and knowledge of God.”

Paul is naming the immensity of God’s saving love. He has followed the story as far as human thought can go, and now he lets his heart speak. This doxology is not an escape from understanding; it is the recognition that God’s wisdom is larger than any single moment of our lives, larger than any single chapter of history, larger than any single community’s experience. It is the wisdom that holds all of us.

There are three movements that shape Paul’s praise. First, Paul speaks of depth—the depth of God’s riches, wisdom, and knowledge. Depth suggests a reality that welcomes us, draws us, and sustains us. When we gather on Sunday, we come as people who have lived through joys and burdens, clarity and confusion. Paul’s words remind us that every part of our story rests within a wisdom deeper than our own. God’s wisdom is not distant; it is the quiet strength that accompanies us through each day.

Next Paul asks, “Who has known the mind of the Lord?” This question opens a space for trust. We do not need to carry the weight of explaining everything. We do not need to understand every turn of life before we can walk forward. Trust allows us to live with confidence that God’s wisdom is already at work—often quietly, often slowly, always faithfully.

This trust echoes through the other readings. Isaiah speaks of God’s steady hand guiding leadership. The psalmist proclaims that God “cares for the lowly.” And in the Gospel, Peter’s confession arises not from perfect understanding but from grace received. Trust is the soil in which faith grows.

Finally, Paul concludes, “For from him and through him and for him are all things.” This is the rhythm of praise. Everything begins in God, is sustained by God, and returns to God. When we gather as a parish community—families, elders, children, visitors, longtime members—we step into this rhythm. Our prayer, our singing, our listening, our service: all of it participates in this great movement of praise.  Praise is our feeling, our stance. It is the way we acknowledge that our lives are held in a love greater than we can measure. It is the way we let God’s mystery enlarge our hearts.

Paul’s doxology speaks to every person who walks through the doors of this chapel. Some of us come with gratitude, some with questions, some with burdens, and some with hope. Paul assures us that God’s wisdom is spacious enough for all of us no matter what we are carrying with us. We stand together before a mystery that does not shrink us but expands us, that gathers us into one people, whose wisdom is deeper than our fears, and whose love is stronger than our limitations.

This is why Paul ends in praise. Praise is the language of a people who know they are held. Praise is the language of a community that trusts the One who guides history. It is the language of hearts that have discovered that God’s wisdom is not a puzzle to solve but a grace to receive.

The Gospel today gives Peter the keys of the kingdom. Isaiah speaks of a key placed on Eliakim’s shoulder. Paul gives us another key—the key of wonder. Wonder opens us to God, softens our hearts, teaches us to trust, and leads us to praise.

And so, as we gather this Sunday, we join Paul in his final, joyful sentence: “To him be glory forever.”