Los olvidados pecados de omisión

Homilía: 26º Domingo en el Tiempo Ordinario – Ciclo C

          Una de las partes benditas del ministerio que se me ha confiado aquí es para escuchar confesiones. Bendito porque yo puedo ser un instrumento de la sanación de Dios para sus almas cuando, a causa del pecado, han sido heridos. Sin embargo, no siempre es una experiencia totalmente agradable. De hecho, ¡a veces puede ser muy frustrante! Una de las cosas frustrantes que sucede más de lo que debería es cuando una persona entra y se olvida cuyos pecados es que él o ella tiene que confesar. Si eres una de esas personas, quiero dejar en claro algo para ti ahora: cuando se llega para confesarte, ¡es sólo para confesar tus pecados, no las de otras personas! En general, sin embargo, la gente sí se centran en sus propios pecados: aquellas cosas que han hecho que reconocen haber ofendido a Dios y herir a su vecino de alguna manera.

          No obstante, en los últimos meses, he empezado a notar que parece que hay algo que falta en la mayoría de las confesiones que escucho. Usted ve, la mayoría de los pecados que las personas confiesan son cosas que se han hecho, es decir, por los delitos que han cometido. Lo que he notado, sin embargo, es que rara vez escucho una persona confiesa el pecado de no hacer algo que deberían haber hecho. En otras palabras, no hay muchas personas que están confesando los pecados de omisión.

          Pecados de omisión son las cosas buenas que fallamos en hacer cuando estaba en nuestro poder para hacerlas. Si echamos un vistazo a nuestro mundo, rápidamente nos damos cuenta de que, efectivamente, hay una gran cantidad de personas que cometen pecados graves cada día. Ciertamente, sin embargo, también podemos reconocer que hay mucha gente que no lo hagan el bien que son capaces de hacer. Esto, diría yo, crea un espacio vacío en el que más actos pecaminosos se pueden ser cometidos. Por lo tanto, el hecho de que rara vez escucho personas confesando los pecados de omisión significa que no hay una fuerte conciencia en las personas que estos son, de hecho, pecados (o delitos contra Dios) y, por tanto, que estos son "material para el confesionario".

          Nuestras escrituras de hoy nos recuerdan, sin embargo, que no es suficiente simplemente para evitar el mal, sino que deben buscar activamente el bien, también. En la primera lectura del profeta Amos, le oímos declarar “¡Ay de ustedes, los que se sienten seguros en Sión!", lo que significa que cosas muy terribles estaban a punto de tener lugar para la gente del reino del sur de Judá a causa de la extravagancia con que cenan en sus banquetes, incluso mientras sus parientes (el pueblo del reino del norte de Israel) están sufriendo de la desintegración de su sociedad. Él les dice que, debido a que han ignorado sus parientes necesitados, a pesar de tener los recursos para hacer algo, que, de hecho, serán los primeros en sufrir cuando el rey de Babilonia trata de forzarles al destierro.

          Luego, en el Evangelio, Jesús cuenta una parábola que describe una situación similar, sólo que con más detalle concreto. Un hombre rico se veste extravagantemente y come suntuosamente todos los días, mientras que un hombre pobre, Lázaro, sufre a su puerta, con la esperanza de que el hombre rico tendrá suficiente ternura para darle un poco de las sobras de su comida. Después de que ambos de ellos mueren, sus papeles se invierten y el hombre rico es el que sufre. Sin embargo, la ignorancia de este hombre es aún más en exhibición cuando se pide a Abraham que envíe a Lázaro para ayudar a aliviar su sufrimiento. ¡Imaginase! No hizo caso de Lázaro en su necesidad y ¡ahora se espera que Lázaro le ayude en su sufrimiento! ¡Esto es muy vanidoso!

          Nótese, sin embargo, que ni Amos ni Jesús condenan el pecado de exceso en la comida y la bebida (es decir, la gula)—a pesar de que sin duda podrían haberlos condenado por ello. Por el contrario, ambas condenan los excesos a expensas del pobre en medio de ellos—el pecado de omisión en la que no ha actuado por el bien de los que sufren entre ellos, a pesar de que (y especialmente por qué) estaba en su poder para hacer así.

          Debido a que ella fue recientemente canonizada, Santa Teresa de Calcuta ha recibido mucha prensa recientemente. Debido a esto he podido conocer un poco más acerca de este santo y su trabajo. Uno de los nuevos conocimientos que he adquirido sobre su vida es que ella era tanto una profeta como era un trabajador de la caridad. Por supuesto que todos la conocemos por su dedicación a los "más pobres de los pobres" en las calles de Calcuta, India. Estas obras de caridad que ella (y la orden religiosa que fundó) realiza trajeron mucha atención a ella. Nunca se desea ese tipo de atención, sin embargo. Pero, ella lo aceptó, debido a la oportunidad que se le dio para llevar la situación de los pobres a la atención de los que tenían los recursos de hacer algo al respecto. En otras palabras, cuando la atención se acercó a ella, ella lo usó para ayudar a los ricos para ver los pobres y, por lo tanto, para invitar a los ricos para ayudar a ellos. De esta manera, ella era mucho más que un trabajador de la caridad: ella era una profeta. Una profeta que hizo el rico y poderoso del mundo conscientes de sus pecados de omisión contra los pobres. Un profeta cuyas palabras son aún muy relevantes.

          El famoso estadista irlandés, Edmund Burke, dijo una vez que "La única cosa necesaria para el triunfo del mal es que los hombres buenos no hagan nada." Mis hermanos y hermanas, nuestra falta de acción frente a la pobreza y la necesidad es un pecado de omisión del mismo orden que nuestras escrituras hablan de hoy. Y por eso, ¿qué hacemos? En primer lugar, tenemos que orar. Necesitamos aprender cómo examinar nuestra conciencia con el fin de ver a los pobres en medio de nosotros y reconocer cuando hemos fallado en responder a ellos. Entonces, tenemos que actuar. Cuando vemos donde hemos dejado de actuar, hay que empezar a llenar el vacío que fue creado por nuestra falta de acción con los actos que hemos dejado de hacer. En otras palabras, tenemos que ser buenos hombres que hacer algo para que el mal no triunfará en el mundo; y (tal vez, lo más importante) para que no vamos a sufrir el mismo destino que el rico de la parábola de Jesús. Por último, hay que repetir los dos primeros pasos constantemente. En otra parte del Evangelio, Jesús dice que los pobres siempre estarán con nosotros. Por lo tanto, una vez que hemos actuado para llenar un vacío, entonces tenemos que empezar de nuevo y rezar para discernir el próximo vacío que Dios nos está llamando para llenar y luego actuar para llenarlo.

          Santa Madre Teresa nunca pensó que podía eliminar la pobreza por sí misma. Ella simplemente estaba tratando de hacer su parte por amor de Jesús, a quien se encontró con más profundamente en los pobres. Si cada uno de nosotros hacer lo mismo, es decir, si cada uno de nosotros reconocer la forma concreta en que Dios nos llama a actuar y luego comprometernos a actuar por amor de Jesús, entonces nuestro mundo comenzaría a cambiar para mejor. Mis hermanos y hermanas, cuando nos acercamos a este altar para dar gracias a Dios por todo lo bueno que nos ha dado a nosotros, especialmente para la fuerza que recibimos cuando recibimos la misma vida de Dios en la Santa Comunión, comprometámonos a este buen trabajo para que el reino de Dios verdaderamente se puede realizar en medio de nosotros.

Dado en la parroquia de Todos los Santos: Logansport, IN

25 de septiembre, 2016

Sometimes forgotten sins of omission

Homily: 26^th Sunday in Ordinary Time – Cycle C

          One of the blessed parts of the ministry with which I have been entrusted here is to hear confessions.  Blessed because I get to be God’s instrument of healing for your souls when, because of sin, they have been hurt.  It’s not always the most pleasant experience, however.  In fact, sometimes it can be downright frustrating!  One of the frustrating things that happens more than it should is when a person comes in and forgets whose sins it is that he or she is supposed to be confessing.  If you’re one of those people, please let me make it clear for you now: when you come to confession, you are to confess only YOUR sins, not somebody else’s!  Generally speaking, however, folks do focus on their own sins: those things that they have done which they acknowledge have offended God and hurt their neighbor in some way.

          Nonetheless, in recent months, I've begun to notice that there seems to be something missing in the majority of confessions that I hear.  You see, most of the sins that people confess to me are for things that they have done: that is, for offenses that they have committed.  What I’ve noticed, however, is that I rarely hear people confess the sin of not doing something that they should have done.  In other words, not a lot of people are confessing sins of omission.

          Sins of omission are good things that we fail to do when it was in our power to do them.  If we take a look at our world, we quickly realize that, yes, there are a lot of people committing grave sins every day.  Certainly, however, we can also acknowledge that there are a lot of people failing to do the good that they are capable of doing.  This, I would argue, creates a vacuum—an empty space—in which more sinful acts can be committed.  Thus, the fact that I rarely hear people confessing sins of omission means that there isn't a strong awareness among people that these are, in fact, sins (or offenses against God) and , thus, that these are "confessional material".

          Our scriptures today remind us, however, that it isn't enough simply to avoid evil, but rather that we also must actively pursue the good.  In the first reading from the prophet Amos, we hear him declare “woe to the complacent in Zion”, meaning that very dreadful things were about to take place for the people of the southern kingdom of Judah because of the extravagance with which they dine at their banquets, even while their kinsmen (the people of the northern kingdom of Israel) are suffering from the disintegration of their society.  He tells them that, because they have ignored their kinsmen in need, even though they had the resources to do something, they, in fact, will be the first to suffer when the king of Babylon comes to force them into exile.

          Then in the Gospel Jesus tells a parable that describes a similar situation, only in more concrete detail.  A rich man dresses extravagantly and dines sumptuously every day, while a poor man, Lazarus, suffers at his gate, hoping that the rich man will have enough kindness to give him some of the leftovers from his meal.  After both of their deaths their roles will be reversed and the rich man will be the one who suffers.  Nevertheless, this man’s ignorance is further on display when he asks Abraham to send Lazarus to help relieve his suffering.  Can you imagine?  He ignored Lazarus in his need and now he expects Lazarus to help him in his suffering?  How conceited!

          Notice, however, that neither Amos nor Jesus condemn the sin of overindulgence in food and drink (i.e. gluttony)—even though they certainly could have condemned them for it.  Rather, both condemn overindulgence at the expense of the poor one in their midst—the sin of omission in which they failed to act for the good of the suffering ones among them, even though (and especially though) it was in their power to do so.

          Because she was recently canonized, Saint Teresa of Calcutta has gotten a lot of press lately.  Because of this I have been able to learn a little more about this saint and her work.  One of the new insights that I have gained about her life is that she was as much a prophet as she was a charity worker.  Of course we all know her for her dedication to the “poorest of the poor” in the streets of Calcutta, India.  These works of charity that she and the religious order that she started performed brought plenty of attention to her.  She never desired that kind of attention, however.  Nonetheless, she accepted it, because of the opportunity that it gave her to bring the plight of the poor to the attention of those who had the resources do something about it.  In other words, when the spotlight came to her, she used it to help people who were rich to see the poor and, thus, to invite the rich to help them.  In this way, she was much more than a charity worker: she was a prophet.  A prophet who called out the rich and powerful in the world for their sins of omission against the poor.  A prophet whose words are still very relevant today.

          The famous Irish statesman, Edmund Burke, once said that “The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing.”  My brothers and sisters, our inaction in the face of poverty and need is a sin of omission of the same order that our scriptures speak of today.  And so, what do we do?  First, we need to pray.  We need to learn how to examine our consciousness and our consciences so as to see the poor in our midst and to acknowledge when we have failed to respond to them.  Then, we need to act.  Once we see where we have failed to act, we must begin to fill the void that was created by our inaction with the acts that we have failed to do.  In other words, we need to be good men who do something so that evil will not triumph in the world; and (perhaps, more importantly) so that we won’t suffer the same fate as the rich man in Jesus’ parable.  Finally, we need to repeat the first two steps constantly.  Elsewhere in the Gospel, Jesus said that the poor will always be with us.  Therefore, once we've acted to fill one void, then we must begin again and pray to discern the next void that God is calling us to fill and then act to fill it.

          Saint Mother Teresa never thought that she could eliminate poverty by herself.  She was simply trying to do her part by loving Jesus whom she encountered most profoundly in the poor.  If each of us would do the same, that is, if each of us would acknowledge the concrete way that God is calling us to act and then commit ourselves to acting out of love for Jesus, then our world would definitely begin to change for the better.  My brothers and sisters, as we approach this altar to give thanks to God for all of the good that he has given to us, especially for the strength that we receive when we receive the very life of God in Holy Communion, let us commit ourselves to this good work so that God’s kingdom may truly be realized in our midst.

Given at All Saints Parish: Logansport, IN – September 25^th, 2016

An island big enough for everyone

Homily: 25^th Sunday in Ordinary Time – Cycle C

          There certainly is a wealth of lessons to be learned and insight to be gained from our Scriptures today.  There always is, of course, but today there just seems to be more to “sink our teeth into” than normal.  Obviously I can’t cover it all in one homily, so I’ll have to choose something.  I think that this year, in particular because it is an election year, it would be good if we focused in on the reading from Saint Paul’s letter to Timothy.  First, a little background on these letters.

          Three of Saint Paul's fourteen New Testament Letters are called his "Pastoral Letters". Two of these were written to Saint Timothy and one to Saint Titus.  Both Timothy and Titus were disciples of Paul. Timothy's mother was Jewish and he had become a Christian through the influence of his grandmother, Lois. Titus had no Jewish background at all; he was a Greek convert from paganism. Timothy and Titus each accompanied Saint Paul on some of his missionary journeys around the Mediterranean and they also served as Paul’s messengers to churches that he was trying to guide from a distance. At the time when the New Testament Letters to Timothy and Titus were written, the two disciples had stopped traveling with Paul and each had been made an overseer, or "bishop", of a local church. The Letters contain advice and instruction from Saint Paul on how to lead their respective communities. In the passage we just heard, located near the beginning of Saint Paul's First Letter to Timothy, many themes emerge: themes that are as important for us today as they were for our Christian brothers and sisters in the first century. Today, however, we’ll just focus two of them.

          The first has to do with the Church's relationship with the world around it. In the first century, the civilized world in which Christianity was taking root was still pagan. The different cultures around the Mediterranean Sea had been forcefully united under the Roman Empire. The Empire's fabulous wealth opened the door to a pleasure-loving lifestyle among the rich and powerful. It also required the spread of slave labor and the injustice and misery that went along with it. Furthermore, it allowed for the spread and interaction of the many different pagan religions native to each culture. At that time, in the midst of this sea of paganism, Christianity was still only a tiny island.

          In his instructions to Timothy, Saint Paul lists as the first responsibility of those living on that “island” to pray for the pagan “sea” all around them—especially for the "kings and for all in authority"—the Emperor, the governors, and the other civil leaders… many of whom had already begun to persecute the Christians. You see, in Paul's mind, the Church was not only a boat journeying to heaven—or an island of refuge in the midst of a hostile sea—but it was also God's chosen instrument for the spread of a stable and prosperous society here on earth, in which everyone could live a "quiet and tranquil life in all devotion and dignity." And the primary way for the Church to do that, Paul instructs, was through prayer.

          Today, once again, the Church is an island in a sea of paganism. The island is bigger now, but the surrounding culture is still hostile to Christian values. So today it is still our responsibility as God's ambassadors to pray for peace, justice, and prosperity in society: which means, of course, to pray also for our leaders. God wants our culture to be healthy and our society to be stable and he chooses to use our prayers as channels for his grace to achieve this end.

          The second theme has to do with the extension of Christ's saving mission. Jesus Christ came as the Savior, but who exactly did he come to save? Did he intend to save only some members of the fallen human race? This is what some traditions of separated Christianity have taught and still teach. John Calvin, for example, one of the most influential figures in the Protestant Reformation back in the 16th century, taught a doctrine called "double predestination". This doctrine stated that from the moment when God creates a human soul, he destines that person either to heaven or to hell, and nothing that the person does can change that destiny. But that, of course, is not true. As Saint Paul wrote to Timothy, "God our savior... wills everyone to be saved and to come to the knowledge of the truth."

          When Christ offered his own life as a sacrifice for our sins, he offered it as a sacrifice to atone for ALL our sins, for the sins of every human being who ever lived and who ever will live. This is what Saint Paul means when he writes to Timothy saying that, "Christ Jesus... gave himself as ransom for all." God doesn't play favorites and he doesn’t exclude. He offers the gift of salvation to every single person and he wants every single person to accept salvation by believing in and following Christ. But he won't force anyone to accept the gift: because then it wouldn't be a gift at all. This is why it is not a contradiction to say both that God wills the salvation of all people, but that all people will not necessarily be saved.

          And so, do you see now how important it is that we pray for “kings and for all those in authority”?  If we decide that some people don’t deserve our prayers because we don’t think that they should receive the gift of eternal life from God, then we have set ourselves against God’s will; and if we are against God’s will then we ourselves are in danger of losing the gift of salvation that comes to us from Jesus Christ!  And besides, are we any better than that dishonest steward about whom Jesus speaks in the Gospel if we try to hoard the treasure of salvation for ourselves, instead of praying that everyone would share in it?  No, we’re not!

          And so, in the Gospel reading, when Jesus seems to agree with the master’s commendation of the dishonest steward’s actions, it isn’t because he agrees with the steward’s actions, but rather it is to make a point: that the dishonest are better and more committed to being dishonest than the good are at being and being committed to being honest!  And he makes this point to make a further point: that is, that in order for the Gospel message to be received as authentic, then Christians must live the faith authentically.  My friends, this begins with charity; and today Saint Paul teaches us that an essential part of charity is to pray for everyone, without discrimination.

          My brothers and sisters, our faith is a vast treasure house of truth and light: a treasure that our world so desperately needs today! And so today, as Christ comes once again to nourish our souls in Holy Communion, let's thank him for this priceless gift of our Catholic faith, let's pray for the salvation of the entire world, as Saint Paul encourages us to do, especially for the politicians and government officials that seem to be lost, and let's renew our determination to follow Christ faithfully this week, so that we might be authentic witnesses to the Gospel that lead all those around us to the joy of eternal life.

Given at All Saints Parish: Logansport, IN – September 18^th, 2016

Un tiempo de misericordia

Homilia: 24º Domingo en el Tiempo Ordinario – Ciclo C

          Ayer, he celebrado una boda de una pareja joven de nuestra parroquia. El viernes por la noche la pareja me ha invitado a la cena después del ensayo. Después de la cena, el padre del novio se sentó junto a mí y quería hablar. Él no es católico y que recientemente tuvo una conversación similar con su pastor luterano (a quien conjeturó fue similar en edad a mí), y así que quería tener la oportunidad de obtener mi opinión sobre la misma cuestión.

          Era una pregunta muy seria: "Echando un vistazo a todo lo que está pasando en el mundo, ¿hay alguna esperanza?", preguntó, "¿O hemos perdido ya el mundo?" Mi primera respuesta, por supuesto, era "Sí, ¡por supuesto que hay esperanza! Dios no ha cambiado. Él sigue siendo el todo poderoso Señor del universo. Y nada ha cambiado acerca de Jesús, su Hijo, que nos salvó del pecado y de la muerte por su propia muerte y resurrección." A esto él asintió con la cabeza como si él ya sabía la respuesta. Por lo tanto, era la segunda parte de la pregunta a la que parecía que necesitan una respuesta. "¿No parece como si nos hemos perdido el mundo a las fuerzas de la oscuridad y el mal?" A esto, he intentado ser un poco más matizada.

          Me preguntaba, tal vez, si estaba preocupado por el juicio final y de ser atrapados en el último desencadenamiento de la ira de Dios sobre la raza humana debido a su creciente indiferencia a sus mandamientos. Traté de asegurarle que sus sentimientos eran una señal de que este es un tiempo de acción: un momento en que las personas de fe deben tener la intención de compartir la Buena Nueva de Jesús en la palabra y en la acción. Le aseguré que ahora es un momento de misericordia, pero sólo si actuamos.

          ¿Es cierto, verdad, que la ira de Dios se debe ser en llamas contra nosotros a causa del pecado rampante en nuestro mundo, especialmente por aquellos que se llaman "cristianos"? Lo hemos ofendido, una y otra vez. Pero mire a su alrededor; que no parece estar algo parecido a la ira de Dios trabajando alrededor de nosotros, ¿verdad? Más bien, lo que se nos ha dado es un tiempo de misericordia, en su lugar. Nuestras lecturas de hoy nos revelan que este ha sido el modelo de Dios desde el principio.

          En la primera lectura, que oímos acerca de Moisés, que actúa como un tipo de Cristo, que intercede ante Dios en nombre del pueblo de Israel a rechazar la ira de Dios de ellos. Las personas que han dado forma a un ídolo y lo adoraban: un delito tan grave que Dios quiere matarlos inmediatamente. Moisés, resistiendo a la oferta de Dios de tener una nación de personas hechas por sí mismo, invoca las promesas que Dios hizo a rectos antepasados del pueblo, diciendo, en efecto, "A pesar de que estas personas no merecen su misericordia, por favor, darle a ellos por el bien de Abraham, de Isaac y de Israel." A este Dios cede y otorga su misericordia de la gente que merecía su justo juicio.

          En la segunda lectura, oímos San Pablo, quien escribió de su reconocimiento de que había sido "considerado digno de confianza" para ser un ministro del Evangelio. Se reconoció que, debido a sus acciones como un perseguidor de los cristianos, que se merecía toda la ira de Dios; pero que había sido "tratado con misericordia" por Dios; y no para su beneficio por sí solo, sino más bien en beneficio del Evangelio: que, en el tratamiento de Pablo con misericordia, Dios demostraría que ningún pecado es demasiado grande para su misericordia.

          Luego, en el Evangelio, oímos tres parábolas que Jesús usó para ilustrar qué tan extensa es la misericordia de Dios hacia nosotros. En ellos, Jesús nos enseña que Dios se niega a dejar que nos perdamos. El pastor, que arriesga su propia vida (y la vida de las noventa y nueve ovejas que no se apartan) con el fin de encontrar la oveja que se había perdido, y la mujer, que barre toda su casa para encontrar la moneda, a pesar de que tenía nueve otras, son ejemplos de cómo Dios persigue tenazmente cualquiera de nosotros que se han alejado de él. El padre que diario espera con anticipación ansiosa por su hijo pródigo para volver a casa, y quien lo recibe con alegría y celebración cuando lo hace, es una ilustración de la disposición "pródigo" de Dios a ignorar nuestro pasado cuando lo nos alejamos y de nuevo hacia él, así que no podemos perdernos para siempre a la oscuridad, sino que vivamos para siempre con él a la luz de la gracia.

          Pero no son sólo las escrituras que confirman que este es un tiempo de la misericordia de Dios. Por el contrario, ha habido muchos acontecimientos en el último siglo que demuestran esto. Las apariciones de María en Fátima en Portugal en la que ella llamaba el mundo al arrepentimiento y actos de reparación por los pecados a fin de evitar tragedias que estaban por venir. Las revelaciones místicas de Jesús a la Hermana Faustina Kowalska de Polonia en la que él le dio la tarea de fomentar una renovada devoción a la Divina Misericordia. La elección del Papa Juan Pablo II, que hizo posible que el mensaje de Santa Faustina que se extendió por todo el mundo. Y ahora, este año jubilar de la Misericordia, que nos llama tanto abrirnos a una experiencia de la misericordia de Dios y para compartir la misericordia de Dios con los que nos rodean. Todos ellos (y más) señalan a este tiempo que es nuestra oportunidad (quizá la última oportunidad) de arrepentirnos y pedir clemencia de Dios antes que el juicio final de Dios se lleva a cabo.

          Los acontecimientos del 11 de septiembre de 2001, que también hoy recordamos, son una señal de que el tiempo de la misericordia es ahora: porque cuando la violencia como éste aumenta en nuestro mundo, así que la necesidad de proclamar la misericordia de Dios para el mundo aumenta también. Al recordar estos trágicos sucesos, no permitamos que se mantengan en el ámbito de la lamentación. Más bien, usémoslos para recordarnos de nuestra necesidad de actuar: en primer lugar para convertir a nosotros mismos por lo que no somos objetos del justo juicio de Dios, y luego salir y llamar a otros a la conversión y así transformar el mundo.

          Mis hermanos y hermanas, nuestro mundo ha desviado lejos de Dios, pero nunca es demasiado tarde para volver. Esto se debe a que las misericordias de Dios no se agotan; más bien, que se renuevan cada mañana. Sobre todo aquí, en este altar del sacrificio, las misericordias de Dios son renovados como se hace realmente presente para nosotros Jesús. Con confianza, entonces, acerquémonos a este trono de la gracia y para alcanzar misericordia de Dios: Jesús, nuestro Salvador. Entonces, salgamos de aquí a ser instrumentos de la misericordia de Dios, que el día del juicio podría ser un día de alegría en el que todos estaremos unidos con Dios nuestro Padre para siempre.

Dado en la parroquia de Todos los Santos: Logansport, IN

11 de septiembre, 2016

A time of mercy

Homily: 24^th Sunday in Ordinary Time – Cycle C

          Yesterday, I celebrated a wedding for a young couple from our parish.  On Friday evening the couple invited me to the dinner after the rehearsal.  After the dinner the groom’s father sat down next to me and wanted to talk.  He’s not Catholic and he recently had a similar conversation with his Lutheran pastor (whom he surmised was similar in age to me), and so he wanted to take the opportunity to get my opinion on the same question.

          It was a very earnest question: “Taking a look at everything that is going on in the world, is there any hope,” he asked, “or have we already lost the world?”  My first answer, of course, was “Yes, of course there is hope!  God hasn’t changed.  He is still the all-powerful Lord of the universe.  And nothing has changed about Jesus, his Son, who saved us from sin and death by his own death and resurrection.”  To this he nodded in agreement as if he already knew the answer.  Thus, it was the second part of that question to which he seemed to need an answer.  “Doesn’t it seem as if we have lost the world to the forces of darkness and evil?”  To this, I tried to be a little more nuanced.

          I wondered, perhaps, if he was worried about the final judgment and about being caught up in the final unleashing of God’s wrath on the human race because of its increasing disregard for his commandments.  I tried to assure him that his feelings were a sign that this is a time of action: a time when people of faith must be intentional about sharing the Good News of Jesus in both word and in action.  I assured him that now is a time of mercy, but only if we take action.

          It’s true, isn’t it, that God’s anger should be blazing against us because of rampant sin in our world, especially by those who call themselves “Christians”?  We’ve offended him, time and again.  But look around; it doesn’t seem like anything resembling God’s anger is working around us, does it?  Rather, what we’ve been given is a time of mercy, instead.  Our scriptures today reveal to us that this has been God’s pattern from the beginning.

          In the first reading, we hear about Moses, acting as a type of Christ, who intercedes before God on behalf of the Israelite people to turn away God’s anger from them.  The people have fashioned an idol which they have been worshiping: an offense so grave that God wants to put them to death immediately.  Moses, resisting the offer from God to have a nation of people made for himself, invokes the promises that God made to the people’s righteous forefathers, saying, in effect, “Although these people don’t deserve your mercy, please give it to them for the sake of Abraham, Isaac, and Israel.”  To this God relents and bestows his mercy on the people who deserved his righteous judgment.

          In the second reading, we heard Saint Paul who wrote of his gratitude that he had been “considered trustworthy” to be a minister of the Gospel.  He acknowledged that, because of his actions as a persecutor of Christians, he deserved the full wrath of God; but that he had been “mercifully treated” by God; and not for his benefit alone, but rather for the benefit of the Gospel: that, in treating Paul mercifully, God would prove that no sin is too big for his mercy.

          Then, in the Gospel, we heard three parables that Jesus used to illustrate how extensive God’s mercy is towards us.  In them, Jesus teaches us that God refuses to let us be lost.  The shepherd, who risks his own life (and the life of the ninety-nine sheep who didn’t stray) in order to find the one sheep who was lost, and the woman, who turns over her whole house to find the one coin even though she had nine others, are illustrations of how God doggedly pursues any of us who have turned away from him.  The father who daily waits with anxious anticipation for his prodigal son to return home, and who receives him with joy and celebration when he does, is an illustration of God’s “prodigal” willingness to ignore our past when we turn away from it and back towards him so that we might not be lost forever to darkness, but rather live forever with him in the light of grace.

          But it is not just the scriptures that confirm that this is a time of mercy from God.  Rather, there have been many events in the last century that demonstrate this as well.  The apparitions of Mary at Fatima in Portugal in which she called the world to repentance and acts of reparation for sins so as to avert tragedies that were to come.  The mystical revelations of Jesus to Sr. Faustina Kowalska in Poland in which he gave her the task to foster a renewed devotion to Divine Mercy.  The election of Pope John Paul II, which made it possible for St. Faustina’s message to be spread throughout the world.  And now, this Jubilee Year of Mercy, which calls us both to open ourselves to an experience of God’s mercy and to share God’s mercy with those around us.  All of these (and more) point to this time as being our chance (perhaps our last chance) to repent and to plead for God’s mercy before God’s final judgment takes place.

          The events of September 11th, 2001, which we also remember today, are a sign that the time of mercy is now: because when violence like this increases in our world, so the need to proclaim God’s mercy to the world increases as well.  As we remember these tragic events, let us not allow them to remain in the realm of lamentation.  Rather, let us use them to remind us of our need to act: first to convert ourselves so that we are not objects of the just judgment of God, and then to go out and to call others to conversion and thus transform the world.

          My brothers and sisters, our world has gone far astray from God, but it is never too late to return.  This is because God's mercies are not exhausted; rather, they are renewed every morning.  Particularly here, on this altar of sacrifice, God's mercies are renewed as Jesus becomes truly present to us.  With confidence, then, let us approach this throne of grace and receive God's mercy: Jesus, our Savior.  Then, let us go forth from here to be instruments of God's mercy, that the day of judgment might be a day of joy in which we all will be united with God our Father forever.

Given at All Saints Parish: Logansport, IN – September 11^th, 2016

Counting up the cost...

A joyful day for the Church as we celebrate the canonization of Mother Teresa!

Saint Teresa of Calcutta, pray for us!
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Homily: 23^rd Sunday in Ordinary Time – Cycle C

          Today, the accountants out there ought to be pretty happy, because in the Gospel Jesus is talking like an accountant.  Let me explain.  As boring as it may sound (sorry accountants), it seems like Jesus is advising his would-be disciples to complete a “cost-benefit” analysis before choosing to follow him.  In fact, it’s almost like he’s giving a seminar on discipleship to prospective disciples in which he is trying to communicate what it will cost them.

          As we heard in the first words of the Gospel reading, “great crowds were traveling with Jesus”.  At one point he must have thought to himself, “I don’t know if these folks are really want to be disciples or if they’re just interested in the novelty of my teaching.  Perhaps I should get clear about what being my disciple will demand of them.”  Jesus came to make disciples and not to sell out auditoriums and hock merchandise.  Thus he turns to address the crowds and lays out the conditions for being a disciple.  “I’m okay if you want to follow me around,” Jesus seems to say, “but if you are going to call yourself ‘my disciple’, then there are conditions; and here they are…”  He then proceeds to describe those conditions.  Let’s take a look at them.

          First, he says “If anyone comes to me without hating his father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters, and even his own life, he cannot be my disciple.”  This, of course, seems harsh at first because for us “hate” is a strong word that means that we wish harm upon another person.  For Jesus’ hearers, though, this word wouldn’t have had that same harsh meaning.  For them, to “hate” someone was simply to put them lower down on your “loyalty list”.  In other words, “to hate” someone would mean “to turn away from” him or her when you have to make a choice between that person and the one to whom all your loyalty belongs.  With this understanding, we see how it is still possible to love the person that you hate, because even though you have to turn away from them, you can still will the good for them: that is, you can still will that they would have every good thing that they need to find happiness.

          This “hatred” of others can cause conflict, of course, if these others don’t understand your necessary loyalty to Jesus above all things: conflict that could result in these loved ones turning away from you.  This is why Jesus wants to make this clear, up front: If one is not ready to lose their relationship with father, mother, husband, wife, children, brothers and sisters, then this one is not ready to be his disciple.

          Second (and I’m going to jump to the third one in sequence), Jesus says that “anyone of you who does not renounce all his possessions cannot be my disciple.”  Here, Jesus is demanding that we be entirely detached from our worldly goods.  In other words, he’s saying that we must be ready to lose all of our worldly comforts and securities—our houses, our cars, our food, our clothing… everything!—if we wish to be his disciples.  Now, for some, this is a more difficult demand than the first one.  Perhaps they are “loners” and are okay being isolated from others, but they rely heavily on their worldly “securities” to insulate them.  To renounce these, then, too, would truly demand everything of them; and so Jesus declares that this, too, is one of the costs of discipleship.

          Finally, Jesus said “Whoever does not carry his own cross and come after me cannot be my disciple.”  Now, if we’ve been living the Christian life for some time then we know that “carrying the cross” means “accepting suffering patiently”.  But I think that we have to make sure that we are hearing that line in the way that Jesus’ hearers would have heard it when he first said it.  For them, the cross was an awful instrument of torture and death.  Thus, when he says “you must carry your own cross”, what they hear is “You must willingly carry the instrument on which you will be horrifically tortured and willingly carry it to your place of torture, so that you can be tortured and killed on it”!  Notice that this is not a passive “accepting” of suffering, but rather an active choice that must be made, day after day.

          With this, Jesus really couldn’t be any clearer about the cost of being his disciple.  Not only will it cost you your relationships and your possessions, but it will cost you your very life.  And so, why would anyone want to be a disciple of Jesus?  This is where Jesus’ accounting hat comes back on.  We’ve looked at the cost, but to answer the question of “Why be a disciple of Jesus?” we need to look at the benefits.

          Jesus doesn’t detail the benefits in this Gospel reading, but we know what they are: heaven, the fullness of life, peace, everlasting bliss, etc.  Think about your dream life.  Think about what your life would look like if you didn’t have to work for anything and everything existed in perfect harmony.  This is the benefit of being Jesus’ disciple: realizing perfect contentment forever!  If that offer was put on the table, what would you be willing to give up?  Most people I know would give up everything, even their lives, if it meant that they could experience that dream life forever.

          The rub, however, is that we have to take Jesus’ word that, if we remain a faithful disciple, this life of perfect contentment will be ours.  Nobody’s ever come back from the dead to say “Yes, stick with it!  Everything that he promised is true!”  Rather, we just have Jesus, who himself carried his cross, literally, on which he was horrifically tortured and on which he died; but then who raised himself up again on the third day after his death and who continues to live at the right hand of God the Father in heaven.  That’s all.  My brothers and sisters, for me, this is enough!  Jesus has proven that he has power over life and death and so if he asks me to give up my life so that I might enjoy that life of perfect contentment (that is, perfect happiness… perfect joy), then I’m going to give it!

          And this is the example given to us of all the saints down the ages, including the Church’s newest saint, Saint Teresa of Calcutta (did you all know that she was canonized today?).  Her work, and the work of the religious order that she started, is a witness to the fact that, to be an authentic disciple of Jesus, we have to be ready to abandon everything: even our very lives.  Her canonization is an acknowledgement that she has received the benefit for what it cost her.  She trusted, even in her many years of spiritual darkness, that the Risen Jesus would never abandon her; and now she enjoys the life of perfect contentment that comes to those who remain faithful to him.

          And so, my brothers and sisters, our scriptures today challenge us to ask ourselves these questions: “Is Jesus our first loyalty or do we allow our desire for acceptance by others to compromise our commitment to him?”, “Are we ready to give up everything for him, if he asks it of us?”, and “Do we daily choose to take up the difficult thing that he asks from us: to challenge a friend or family member, to respond to the needs of the poor in our neighborhood and our community, or to speak out about an injustice that is being ignored?”  Perhaps during this Labor Day weekend, when we honor those who work by taking a day of rest from work, we can each take time to reflect on the answers to these questions measuring the level of our commitment to being disciples of Jesus.  If the answer to any of these questions is "no" or "well, kind of…" then let's not be afraid of recommitting ourselves to making the answer to all of these questions "yes"!  My brothers and sisters, Saint Teresa of Calcutta is just the latest proof that our "yeses" come with the promise of everlasting reward!

          If you are afraid that you won't be strong enough, believe me, you don’t have to worry.  Jesus is all the strength that we need; and we receive that strength when we encounter him in the Sacred Scriptures that we read and in the Sacrament that we receive from this altar.  And so, as we turn to him now here in this Mass, may the "Amen" that we proclaim at the “Great Amen” and just before we receive him be the first "yeses" of our total recommitment to him and of our confident hope in the everlasting life that he has promised us.

Given at All Saints Parish: Logansport, IN – September 3^rd & 4^th, 2016