The (visiting) priest was on the pulpit, eloquently talking about how we will be judged when we die. Gesticulating like an Italian after the third glass of Chianti, he drove home to the audience the concept that Christ will reward us for what we have given to others, and consider against us what we have kept for ourselves. These were not his exact words, but you get the drift.
As always when I hear such statement, I was keenly waiting for references to Christ, that is: that this giving must be related to Christ. I tried hard to follow every word in the usual, appalling din caused by the usual, appalling kindergarten around the church (in case you don’t know, it’s now “free screaming time” in church. If you talk, you’re Putin’s evil cousin…), but I could not hear every word. Still, it seems to me such references were, if they were there, peripheral.
The impression that I have gained from the homily was, as you have already guessed, entirely secular.
“Be good, help and give of yourself to others” is entirely senseless in the modern society if it is not anchored and based in Christ.
Your average, badly instructed, fairly lukewarm, awfully “nice” pewsitter will easily understand the homily in the sense that inviting your professed homo neighbour to the garden party, and make him feel included, must be the height of Christian behaviour. The same goes for invitations to the mickey-mouse ceremonies these people stage for friends and relatives, etc. I am pretty sure the “preferred pronoun” easily fits into the category.
As always, if you take Christ out of the equation, you get the devil’s formula. “Goodness”, “giving”, even “being nice” are concept that, for a Christian, have no value in isolation and detached from Christ.
It is no “goodness” to encourage perversion or to imply it’s OK. The Christ-less “giving” – the kind that makes people who are on the wrong track think it’s fine to stay there – is merely a soft kind of evil.
Niceness, without Christ, means driving every day towards hell on a car with very soft suspensions.
Did the (visiting) priest realise it? Most likely, yes.
I think he just did not care.