Descartar la indignación

 Homilía: 23º Domingo en el Tiempo Ordinario – Ciclo A

         Hermanos, una de las cosas que me ha inquietado en estos últimos años ha sido el desarrollo de lo que muchos han llamado la “cultura de la indignación”. Esto significa exactamente lo que parece significar, por supuesto: que se ha desarrollado entre nosotros una “cultura de la indignación” en la que la forma principal en que interactuamos entre nosotros e intentamos resolver nuestros problemas es indignándonos cada vez que alguien dice o hace algo que no nos gusta. En otras palabras, se ha vuelto tolerable sentirse indignado, y estamos cosechando los resultados de esto en lugares donde la tolerancia extrema hacia esto ha llevado a manifestaciones violentas.

         Antes de continuar, me gustaría decir que no intento restar importancia a ninguna de las cuestiones que molestan a la gente. Algunas de estas son cosas por las que la gente debería estar molesta. Lo que me molesta no es que la gente se enfade; Lo que me preocupa es que la gente pasa inmediatamente del “molesto” a la “indignación” y que este tipo de comportamiento es algo que no sólo hemos tolerado, sino que hemos aprobado en la sociedad en general.

         Esto, por supuesto, es realmente sorprendente debido a la hipocresía de todo esto. Uno de los rasgos característicos de la “cultura de la indignación” es que aquellos que se han indignado tienden a hacer pronunciamientos públicos y en voz alta sobre su indignación, aparentemente buscando avergonzar a aquellos a través de quienes se enojaron para que se retracten o modifiquen sus declaraciones y acciones. Esto es hipócrita porque se trata esencialmente de tácticas de intimidación y si le preguntas a alguien si la intimidación es un comportamiento aceptable entre los jóvenes, la respuesta, por supuesto, es un rotundo “no”. No obstante, la “cultura de la indignación”, que parece prosperar gracias al acoso, sigue fortaleciéndose.

         Pero este no es el camino que Jesús nos mostró como forma de resolver nuestras diferencias, ¿verdad? Ciertamente, Jesús habló con mucha fuerza en momentos en que era necesario para confrontar a quienes estaban equivocados. Basta mirar su interacción con Pedro el domingo pasado. Pedro trató de reprender a Jesús cuando afirmó que debía ir a Jerusalén a sufrir y morir y Jesús lo corrigió fuertemente (¡no era poca cosa llamarlo “Satanás”!). Pero lo que Jesús no hizo fue ir a Facebook, Twitter o su Podcast para criticar continuamente a Pedro para avergonzarlo y desacreditarlo también. Esas cosas son cosas que le haces a un enemigo, a quien deseas destruir, no a alguien con quien tienes una relación.

         Lo que Jesús instruye a sus discípulos a hacer cuando uno de sus hermanos necesita ser corregido es un curso muy práctico sobre cómo realizar la obra espiritual de misericordia de “amonestar al pecador”. Él instruye a sus discípulos de esta manera no porque sea la manera más efectiva (aunque ciertamente puede ser la más efectiva), ni porque sea la más eficiente (ciertamente no lo es), sino porque es la manera más amorosa corregir a alguien y llamarlo a la conversión. Incluso cuando el proceso llega al final y se le ordena al discípulo que “apártate de él como de un pagano o de un publicano”, hay amor allí; porque el amor desea el bien del otro y el sufrimiento de estar separado de la comunidad de creyentes, si bien no es bueno en sí mismo, está destinado a ablandar su corazón para que pueda ver el mal de sus acciones y finalmente arrepiéntanse de ellos y busquen la reconciliación.

         La cultura de la indignación no permite que se realice este tipo de trabajo amoroso. Más bien, inmediatamente enfrenta a una persona contra otra (o a un grupo contra otro grupo) y dice: “Estamos en guerra”. En esa situación, no puede haber diálogo entre personas o grupos, sino sólo derramamiento de sangre (ya sea virtual o real). Pero éste no es el camino del reino. Más bien, el camino del reino de Dios es el camino de la comunión y el diálogo, el camino que comienza cuando todos y cada uno de nosotros miramos a los demás seres humanos y decimos: “Tú eres mi hermano/mi hermana y, por lo tanto, nunca es 'yo contra ti', sino 'yo para ti' y 'tú para mí'”. Esta es la manera en que Jesús nos explica y es la manera a la que el Papa Francisco nos ha estado llamando en estos últimos años.

         En esta forma de diálogo no se espera que estemos de acuerdo en todo. ¡Ni siquiera está garantizado que no seremos insultados ni heridos en nuestros sentimientos! Pero incluso en medio de estos desacuerdos e insultos ocasionales, si podemos mantenernos comprometidos unos con otros en un diálogo que busque la comunión, encontraremos una manera de avanzar que conduzca a una mayor armonía y respeto para todos. Esto significa volvernos vulnerables: es decir, exponernos a una confrontación incómoda y a la posibilidad de que estemos equivocados en algo o de que tengamos que abandonar una postura que apreciamos. ¿Has intentado hacer eso recientemente? ¡No me importa quién seas, eso no es algo fácil de hacer! Pero si tengo el amor de Dios en mi corazón por la otra persona, entonces voy a hacer lo difícil, porque sé que será bueno para ella. Por favor, permítanme ser el primero aquí en decir que fallo en esto con regularidad y oro por la misericordia de Dios por cada vez que no pude “amonestar al pecador” cuando tuve la oportunidad. Sin embargo, mis fracasos habituales no cambian el hecho de que continuamente soy llamado a hacer este buen trabajo (y Dios ciertamente continúa dándome muchas oportunidades para hacerlo).

         Hermanos, tal vez cierre con un intento de darles algo a lo que prestar atención esta semana y en el futuro, con lo cual podrían desafiarse a sí mismos. Una de las formas en que nos excusamos de esta necesaria obra de misericordia y, en cambio, cedemos a la “cultura de la indignación” es siendo desdeñosos. Con esto quiero decir que observamos el comportamiento de alguien y lo descartamos como "Tal y como es esa persona", o peor aún, como "Tal y como son esas personas". Le insto a que preste atención esta semana a la frecuencia con la que desprecia a los demás de esta manera. Cada vez que te sientas tentado a descartar a otra persona, haz una pausa y dite a ti mismo: “Esa persona es un hijo de Dios, igual que yo. Me pregunto si hay algo que pueda hacer para ayudar a corregir el error que percibo”. Si esa persona es alguien de tu comunidad, tal vez Dios te desafíe a entablar un diálogo con esa persona y confrontar el problema directamente. Si esa persona está fuera de tu comunidad (alguien que ves en las noticias, por ejemplo), tal vez lo único que puedas hacer es orar y ayunar por esa persona. Ambos son actos de amor hacia esa persona, que pueden provocar su conversión, verdadera. Pero incluso el mismo acto de esforzarse por no ser desdeñoso es un acto de amor y por eso les insto a comenzar por ahí.

         Mis hermanos y hermanas, Dios nunca nos desdeña. No se deleita en ver a un pecador afrontar su juicio particular sin arrepentimiento. Más bien, él siempre desea nuestra conversión y nos ha hecho infinitamente capaces de alejarnos del pecado y volver a la gracia. Él envió a su Hijo a redimirnos para probarnos esta verdad y la Eucaristía que celebramos es tanto el recordatorio como la representación de esa prueba para nosotros. Fortalecidos por lo que recibimos hoy, trabajemos para contrarrestar la “cultura de la indignación” entre nosotros y, en cambio, esforcémonos por construir una cultura de respeto mutuo y fraternidad en la que nos desafiemos y apoyemos unos a otros “para ser perfectos como nuestro Padre celestial es perfecto” para que el reino de Dios, el único reino que puede traernos verdadera paz, pueda continuar manifestándose entre nosotros.

Dado en la parroquia de Santa Maria: Union City, IN – 10 de septiembre, 2023

Dismiss the outrage

 Homily: 23^rd Sunday in Ordinary Time – Cycle A

Friends, one of the things that has disturbed me over these past few years has been the development of what many have called the “outrage culture”.  This means exactly what it sounds like it means, of course: that a “culture of outrage” has developed among us in which the primary way that we interact with each other and attempt to solve our problems is by becoming outraged whenever someone says or does something that we don’t like.  It has become tolerable to become outraged, in other words, and we are reaping the results of this in places where extreme tolerance of this has led to violent demonstrations.

Before I go any further, I’d like to say that I am not attempting to diminish any of the issues about which people are upset.  Some of these are things that people ought to be upset about.  What disturbs me is not that people get upset; what disturbs me is that people immediately go from “upset” to “outrage” and that this type of behavior is something that we’ve not only tolerated, but have given approval to in greater society.

This, of course, is really surprising because of the hypocrisy of it all.  One of the characteristic features of the “outrage culture” is that those who have become outraged tend to make loud, public pronouncements about their outrage seemingly seeking to shame the ones through whom they became upset into retracting or modifying their statements and actions.  This is hypocritical because these are essentially bully tactics and if you ask anyone whether or not bullying is an acceptable behavior among young people, the answer, of course, is a resounding “no”.  Nonetheless, the “outrage culture”, which seems to thrive on bullying, continues to grow stronger.

But this is not the way that Jesus showed us as the way to resolve our differences, right?  Certainly, Jesus spoke very strongly at times when necessary in order to confront those who were in the wrong.  Just look at his interaction with Peter last Sunday.  Peter tried to rebuke Jesus when he claimed that he must go to Jerusalem to suffer and die and Jesus strongly corrected him (it was no small thing to call him “Satan”!).  But what Jesus didn’t do, was go onto Facebook, Twitter, or his Podcast to continually blast Peter so as to shame and discredit him, too.  Those things are things that you do to an enemy, whom you wish to destroy, not to one with whom you have a relationship.

What Jesus instructs his disciples to do when one of their brethren needs to be corrected is a very practical course in how to do the spiritual work of mercy of “admonishing the sinner”.  He instructs his disciples in this way not because it is the most effective way (although it certainly can be the most effective), nor because it is the most efficient (it certainly isn’t), but rather because it is the most loving way to correct someone and to call him/her to conversion.  Even when the process gets to the end and the disciple is instructed to “treat him as you would a Gentile or a tax collector”, there is love there; because love desires the good for the other and the suffering of being separated from the community of believers, while not in itself good, is meant to soften his/her heart so that he/she might see the wrong of his/her actions and finally repent of them and seek reconciliation.

The outrage culture doesn’t allow for this kind of loving work to happen.  Rather, it immediately sets up one person against another (or one group against another group) and says, “We are at war”.  In that situation, there can be no dialogue between persons or groups, but only bloodshed (either virtual or real).  But this is not the way of the kingdom.  Rather, the way of the kingdom of God is the way of communion and dialogue—the way that begins with each and every one of us looking at every other human being and saying: “You are my brother/my sister, and, therefore, it is never ‘me vs you’, but rather ‘me for you’ and ‘you for me’”  This is the way Jesus spells out for us and it is the way to which Pope Francis has been calling us over these last years.

In this way of dialogue, it is not expected that we will agree on everything.  It’s not even guaranteed that we won’t be insulted or have our feelings hurt!  But even in the midst of these disagreements and occasional insults, if we can stay engaged with each other in dialogue that seeks communion, we will find a way forward that will lead to greater harmony and respect for all.  This means becoming vulnerable: that is, exposing ourselves to uncomfortable confrontation and to the possibility that we may be wrong about something or that we may need to give up a stance that we hold dear.  Have you tried to do that recently?  I don’t care who you are, that is not an easy thing to do!  But if I have the love of God in my heart for the other person, then I’m going to do the hard thing, because I know that it will be good for him/her.  Please let me be the first in here to say that I fail at this regularly and I pray for God’s mercy for each time that I failed to “admonish the sinner” when I had the chance.  My regular failures, though, do not change the fact that I am continually called to do this good work (and God certainly continues to give me plenty of opportunities to do it).

Friends, perhaps I’ll close with an attempt to give you one thing to pay attention to this week and beyond with which you might challenge yourself.  One of the ways that we excuse ourselves from this necessary work of mercy and instead give in to the “outrage culture” is to be dismissive.  By this, I mean that we look at someone’s behavior and dismiss it as “Just the way that person is”, or worse as “Just the way those people are”.  I urge you to pay attention this week to how often you are dismissive of others in this way.  Whenever you are tempted to dismiss another person, out of hand, pause and say to yourself, “That person is a child of God, just like me. I wonder if there is something that I can do to help correct the error I perceive.”  If that person is someone in your community, perhaps God will challenge you to engage that person in dialogue and confront the issue directly.  If that person is outside of your community (someone you see in the news, for example), perhaps then all you’ll be able to do is to pray and fast for him/her.  Both are acts of love towards that person, which can bring forth his/her conversion, true.  But even the very act of striving against being dismissive is an act of love and so that is why I am urging you to start there.

My brothers and sisters, God is never dismissive of us.  He does not delight in seeing a sinner face his/her particular judgment without repentance.  Rather, he always desires our conversion and he has made us infinitely capable of turning away from sin and back to grace.  He sent his Son to redeem us in order to prove to us this truth and the Eucharist that we celebrate is both the reminder and the re-presentation of that proof to us.  Strengthened by what we receive today, let us work to counteract the “outrage culture” among us and strive instead to build a culture of mutual respect and fraternity in which we challenge and support one another “to be perfect as our heavenly Father is perfect”, so that the kingdom of God—the only kingdom that can bring true peace to us—might continue to manifest itself among us.

Given at St. Joseph Parish: Winchester, IN and St. Mary Parish: Union City, IN

September 10^th, 2023

Faith is a powerful key

 Homily: 21^st Sunday, Ordinary Time – Cycle A

         Most of us probably don’t realize this, but every day we carry around a little bundle of power in our pockets, purses, etc.  No, in spite of what all of the advertisers are trying to convince you of, it isn’t that latest Smartphone with the 80 billion aps on it.  It is, in fact, our keys.  You see, keys are powerful.  Sure, practically speaking they don’t seem to do much: they lock and unlock our doors and start our cars, but when you look at it a little more broadly, you see that they do in fact have a lot of power over how we live our lives.  Just think about the last time you lost your keys.  How powerless did you feel?  Particularly here in the United States, without our keys we are immobilized.  We can’t go anywhere because we can’t unlock, let alone start our car, and we wouldn’t want to leave anyway, because we either wouldn’t be able to lock the house or, if we could, we wouldn’t be able to get back in.  So, yes, keys are apparently pretty powerful.

         Well, maybe not exactly.  It’s not the keys themselves that have the power, but rather it is those who possess the keys who have it.  Parents, of course, know this.  How often have you—against your better judgment—handed over your car keys to your teenager with the ominous warning, “I expect you to bring it back in one piece, got it?”  You realize that putting keys in their hands is handing power over to them and so you feel it is your duty (and rightfully so) to remind them of the responsibility that comes with it.  This, I think, can help us understand our readings today, because in both we see that power is being handed over to another by the conferring of keys.

         In the first reading, we see that it is God himself who has this power, which he is exercising through the prophet Isaiah.  In the reading we see that God is exercising his power over the keys of the kingdom of Judah, taking them from one and giving them to another.  Shebna was given power over the kingdom, yet he was not a good steward of the authority given to him.  So the Lord stripped him of the keys and gave them to Eliakim, whom the prophet identifies as the Lord’s servant and who, presumably, would be a better steward of the kingdom.  Teens, could you imagine losing the keys to the car to your younger brother or sister?  Multiply that disgrace by about a thousand and that’s what you have going on here.  You see, God was looking for a good steward for his kingdom, someone who would serve the needs of his chosen people well.  Shebna, apparently, didn’t cut it, so the keys—and, thus, the power—were given to Eliakim.

         In the Gospel today, we see a similar scene, though in this instance it is more like a test.  As a group, the disciples are able to report all of the facts about what others have been saying about Jesus.  Yet when Jesus confronts them and asks them to weed through all of that and tell him who they say that he is, only Simon Peter is recorded as having a response.  As a result, Jesus reveals to Simon his plan for him in his Kingdom.  Two things, I think, are important to note here.  First, Jesus carries the authority to confer the keys of the Kingdom of God.  Now, no Jew in their right mind would ever presume to do this, because they all knew that God alone had the authority to do so.  Thus, Jesus is either outside of his right mind or he really is God.  (fyi, as Christians, we believe the latter. <wink>)  Second, Peter, in confessing that Jesus is the Son of God, proves that he acknowledges Jesus’ authority and that he is ready to be a steward of God’s Kingdom.  Thus, it is only after Peter makes this confession that Jesus reveals to him his true calling, represented by conferring on him a new name and by promising to give him the keys to the Kingdom.  Now there’s so much richness to this story, but, unfortunately, we don’t have time to unpack it all.  But what’s important for us to see today is that Peter’s faith—that is, his ability to respond to God’s grace and confess what was unknowable to his human senses alone, that is, that Jesus is God—is itself a key to unlocking God’s loving plan for his life.  And so we see, my brothers and sisters, that faith is a powerful key.

         Of course, as we encounter this reading today, we, too, are confronted with the same questions.  “Who do they say that I am?”  And for us that’s a relatively easy question to answer.  We have nearly 2000 years of history and study behind us to help us.  In fact, there’s a whole theological science—called Christology—that is dedicated to answering just that question.  The challenge comes, as it did for the disciples who were with Jesus that day, when Jesus asks that second question, “Who do you say that I am?”  No matter how deftly we synthesize 2000 years of Christology to make it sound like our own, if we answer using only the knowledge we’ve gained through study of what others have said, our answer will never be more than just that, what others have said about Jesus.  This question cannot be answered by study alone.  Rather, it also requires a relationship.

         Think about it.  If a close friend came up to you and said, “What are other people saying about me?” how would you respond?  My guess is that it would be things like, “Oh, they say ‘he’s a nice guy,’ or ‘a good worker,’ or ‘a great soccer player.’”  Or perhaps, “‘she’s a good mother,’ ‘an excellent teacher,’ or ‘a nice boss,’” etc. etc.  And what if your friend then turned to you and said, “Well, who do you say that I am?”  If you don’t have a good relationship with that person, what more can you say except what everyone else has already said?  Yet, if you have a relationship with that person, you can look at him or her and say, “You’re Greg, or Susan, or Cindy.  You’re Larry, or Samir or Elaina… and you’re my friend.”  Do you see the difference there?  Without a relationship we are unable to see that person for who he or she is.  My friends, the same applies for our ability to answer these questions from Jesus today.  We can’t just listen to what other people have said about him.  Rather, we have to spend time with him and get to know him.  Then we will be able to respond, “You are Jesus, my friend.  And because of this I believe that you are who you say you are: the Christ, the Son of God.”  My friends this is a powerful confession.  It is powerful because it unlocks for us the relationship in which God can reveal his plan for us—that is, his plan for our happiness—and so entrust us with the responsibility to help bring about his kingdom here on earth.

         Whether or not you are ready to make this confession today, the important thing to remember is that there is always room for each of us to deepen our relationship with God.  Each time that we encounter him in both the Word and the Blessed Sacrament—whether here in the liturgy or in private prayer—we should ask him to reveal himself to us more and more.  However it is that you decide to do that—whether it is through Bible Studies, time in prayer before the Blessed Sacrament, participating in a retreat or any other of the ways we have available to us—let God unlock the faith in you that will be your key to unlocking the life that he has planned for you, a life that will lead to your eternal joy in heaven.

         Believe it or not, my brothers and sisters, we can even begin right here.  As we each approach to receive Jesus in this Eucharistic meal, let us imagine Jesus asking us that question, “Who do you say that I am?”  Then, let’s let our “Amen” echo Peter’s words and thus unlock for us the joys of God’s Kingdom.

Given at St. Patrick Parish: Kokomo, IN – August 27^th, 2023

Una misión para todas las personas

 Homilía: 20º Domingo en el Tiempo Ordinario – Ciclo A

         Hermanos, en la Misa de hoy reflexionamos sobre estas lecturas que nos revelan un hecho bien conocido: que la salvación de Dios es para todos. Es importante que reflexionemos sobre esta revelación porque nos recuerda el impulso misionero al que cada uno de nosotros debemos responder para llevar el mensaje de salvación a quienes aún no lo han recibido, a quienes lo han ignorado o a quienes lo han negado completamente. La historia de los antiguos judíos es una buena fuente de reflexión para nosotros a medida que buscamos comprender más plenamente este impulso misionero, así que echemos un vistazo más de cerca a lo que su ejemplo nos revela.

         Los judíos antiguos pensaban que eran una “raza escogida”; y esto, por una buena razón. A lo largo del Antiguo Testamento, leemos cómo, una y otra vez, Dios llamó a este pueblo y lo apartó haciendo una alianza con ellos: un contrato sagrado que unía a este pueblo con Dios por un vínculo irrevocable. Debido a esta alianza, Dios exigió que su pueblo mantuviera un nivel de vida más alto. Bueno, no me refiero a la casa en la que viven ni a la ropa que visten, sino a su conducta: tanto con él como entre ellos. Debían tratarse unos a otros con justicia y mantenerse alejados de la contaminación del pecado: más importante, la contaminación de reconocer o adorar a los dioses falsos de los pueblos paganos.

         Lo que esto condujo, como se puede imaginar, es que los antiguos judíos se volvieron muy estrictos en cuanto a cómo interactuaban con las personas no judías. Temían que cualquier interacción con cualquier no judío los llevaría a la profanación ante Dios, por lo que restringieron severamente las formas en que un judío podía interactuar con un no judío.

         Sin embargo, a lo largo de su historia, Dios reveló a su “pueblo elegido” que un día incluso los no judíos serían aceptables para él. En otras palabras, que extendería los beneficios de su alianza incluso a aquellos que no eran descendientes directos de uno de los hijos de Israel. Nuestra lectura del profeta Isaías es un ejemplo de esto. En él afirma que “a los extranjeros que se han adherido al Señor...” siguiendo sus mandamientos, serán aceptos a él y Dios los conducirá al lugar del verdadero culto, el templo de Jerusalén en el monte Sion, donde serán ofrecer sacrificio y alabanza y, así, recibir bendiciones de él. Isaías concluye diciendo: “mi templo será la casa de oración para todos los pueblos”.

         Para un antiguo judío, que quizás se había sentido bastante cómodo con la idea de que su raza era una raza "apartada" de todas las demás y, por lo tanto, tenía un privilegio distinto sobre todas las demás, escuchar esta profecía de que todos los pueblos algún día serán adheridos al Dios podría haber molestado a él o ella. A todos les gusta sentirse especiales y que forman parte de algo especial y único. A pesar de lo agradecidos que los judíos ancianos pudieron haber estado por el favor de Dios, sin embargo, se mostraron reacios a aceptar que el favor de Dios pudiera otorgarse a cualquier otra persona. Temían que, al permitir la entrada de otras razas, perderían su carácter distintivo como raza y, por tanto, el favor particular del que gozaban ante Dios.

         En la época en que Jesús caminó sobre la tierra, esos temores estaban en un punto álgido debido a la ocupación romana de la tierra santa que Dios había dado a su pueblo escogido. Los judíos, por lo tanto, esperaban grandemente al Mesías, el que los liberaría del régimen romano muy opresivo y daría paso al reino de los cielos: una nueva primavera de prosperidad para el pueblo judío. Como sabemos, Jesús es el Mesías que esperaban, pero no se ajustaba a sus expectativas. En lugar de proteger de cerca y reforzar sus límites raciales, volviendo a aislar al pueblo judío de las razas no judías, Jesús los abrió paso: abrió la puerta para cumplir lo que Isaías había profetizado siglos antes.

         Solo mire la lectura del Evangelio de hoy: Jesús "se retiró a la comarca de Tiro y Sidón..." Este era territorio gentil y no se nos da mucha razón por la que fue allí. Luego se nos dice que una mujer cananea se le acerca. Son muchos los tabúes sociales que aquí se rompen: 1) que ella era una mujer desatendida acercándose a un hombre; 2) ella es una no judía hablando con un judío; 3) todo esto está sucediendo en público. A pesar de todo esto, le ruega a Jesús que sane a su hija. Al principio, Jesús sigue la línea: la ignora y luego la descarta como no judía. Finalmente, él accede y le concede lo que ella pide a causa de su fe. En Isaías dice “los extranjeros que se han adherido al Señor para servirlo, amarlo y darle culto… serán gratos…” Jesús, reconociendo que la alianza pertenece a los judíos, pero también que, a través de los judíos, Dios quiere que todos los pueblos vuelvan en sí, encuentra a esta mujer “adherida al Señor” en la fe y le concede así los beneficios que pertenecen propiamente al pueblo de la alianza.

         San Pablo, en otro lugar, escribió “Ya no hay judío, ni griego, hombre, ni mujer, esclavo, ni libre…” a los ojos del Señor. Por tanto, sabemos que, con Jesús, todos los que profesan la fe, “que se han adherido al Señor para servirlo, amarlo y darle culto”, pueden recibir los beneficios que justamente pertenecen al pueblo judío, al pueblo de la alianza. Y así estamos aquí hoy.

         Mis hermanos y hermanas, nuestras Escrituras de hoy deben aclararnos que es inaceptable que cualquiera de nosotros piense que somos de alguna manera una “raza elegida”, privilegiada sobre todas las demás (independientemente de la ascendencia a la que pertenezcamos). Más bien, debemos ser portadores de la Buena Nueva de que Dios ha hecho que todas las personas, independientemente de su ascendencia, tengan ahora acceso a su vida divina: si cumplan las condiciones estrictas: que se han adherido al Señor para servirlo, amarlo y darle culto, y se convierten a ser sus siervos.

         Hermanos, sin importar si nacieron y crecieron aquí o no, Dios desea que estén unidos a él en su Iglesia, aquí en este lugar. Si no está de acuerdo con este plan, entonces ha elegido no servir al Señor y corre el riesgo de separarse de él. Nadie está diciendo, por supuesto, que hay que dejar de ser “mexicano”, “guatemalteco”, “salvadoreño”, “hondureño”, “venezolano”, “español” o cualquier tipo de “americano”. Significa, sin embargo, que tengan que ver en esta gran diversidad a su hermano, su hermana, su coheredero del reino ganado para nosotros por Jesús; y que tengan que aceptar su misión de salir de su propio grupo a buscar a los que todavía no se han unido a nosotros, para que también ellos puedan participar de la vida divina de Dios.

         Mis hermanos y hermanas, esta Eucaristía que compartimos no es el premio exclusivo de un grupo privilegiado, sino la vida divina de Dios, dada para todos. Tal como lo recibimos hoy, estemos listos para traer a nuestros hermanos y hermanas a esta mesa y así llevar el reino de Dios a su plenitud.

Dado en la parroquia de Nuestra Señora del Monte Carmel: Carmel, IN

20 de agosto, 2023

A mission to all people

 Homily: 20^th Sunday in Ordinary Time – Cycle A

         Friends, in today’s Mass we reflect on these readings that reveal to us a well-known fact: that God’s salvation is for everyone.  It is important that we reflect on this revelation because it reminds us of the missionary impulse to which we should each respond to bring the message of salvation to those who have not yet received it, those who have ignored it, or those who have outright denied it.  The history of the ancient Jews is a good source of reflection for us as we seek to understand this missionary impulse more fully, so let’s take a closer look at what their example reveals for us.

         The ancient Jews thought that they were a “chosen race”; and this, for good reason.  Throughout the Old Testament, we read how, time and again, God called this people and set them apart by making a covenant with them: a sacred contract which united this people to God by an irrevocable bond.  Because of this covenant, God demanded that his people would hold to a higher standard of living.  Now, I’m not talking about the house they live in or the clothes that they wear, but rather about their conduct: both with him and with each other.  They were to treat each other justly and to keep themselves from the defilement of sin—most importantly, the defilement of acknowledging or worshiping the false gods of pagan peoples.

         What this led to, as you might imagine, is that the ancient Jews became very strict about how they interacted with non-Jewish people.  They feared that any interaction with any non-Jew would lead to defilement before God and so they severely restricted the ways in which a Jew could interact with a non-Jew.

         Nevertheless, throughout their history, God revealed to his “chosen people” that one day even non-Jews would be acceptable to him.  In other words, that he would extend the benefits of his covenant even to those who were not direct descendants of one of the sons of Israel.  Our reading from the prophet Isaiah is an example of this.  In it, he states that “foreigners who join themselves to the Lord…” following his statutes and commandments, will be acceptable to him and God will lead them to the place of true worship, the temple in Jerusalem on Mount Zion, where they will offer sacrifice and praise and, thus, receive blessings from him.  Isaiah concludes by saying, “my house shall be called a house of prayer for all peoples.”

         For an ancient Jew, who perhaps had become quite comfortable with the idea that their race was a race “set apart” from all others and, thus, held a distinct privilege above all others, to hear this prophesy that all peoples will one day be united under God might have upset some of them.  Everyone likes to feel like they are special and that they are part of something special and unique.  Grateful as the ancient Jews may have been for God’s favor, they nonetheless were reluctant to accept that God’s favor could be given to anyone else.  They feared that, by allowing other races to enter, they’d lose their distinctiveness as a race and, thus, the particular favor that they enjoyed before God.

         At the time that Jesus walked the earth, those fears were at fever pitch because of the Roman occupation of the holy land that God had given to his chosen people.  The Jews, therefore, were greatly anticipating the Messiah, the one who would liberate them from the oppressive Roman regime and usher in the kingdom of heaven: a new springtime in prosperity for the Jewish people.  As we know, Jesus is the Messiah for whom they were waiting, but he didn’t conform to their expectations.  Instead of closely guarding and reinforcing their racial boundaries, re-isolating the Jewish people from the non-Jewish races, Jesus broke through them: opening the door to fulfill what Isaiah had prophesied centuries before.

         Just look at today’s Gospel reading: Jesus “withdrew to the region of Tyre and Sidon…”  This was Gentile territory and we aren’t given much of a reason why he went there.  Then we’re told that a Canaanite woman approaches him.  There are many social taboos that are broken here: 1) that she was an unattended woman approaching a man; 2) she is a non-Jew speaking to a Jew; 3) this is all happening in public.  In spite of all of this, she pleads for Jesus to heal her daughter.  At first, Jesus toes the line: ignoring her, and then brushing her off as a non-Jew.  Finally, he accedes and grants her what she asks because of her faith.  In Isaiah, it says “The foreigners who join themselves to the Lord, ministering to him, loving the name of the Lord, and becoming his servants … will be acceptable…”  Jesus, recognizing that the covenant belongs to the Jews, but also that, through the Jews, God desires all peoples to come to himself, finds this woman “joined to the Lord” in faith and so grants her the benefits that belong properly to the people of the covenant.

         Saint Paul, in another place, wrote “There is no longer Jew, nor Greek, man, nor woman, slave, nor free…” in the eyes of the Lord.  Therefore, we know that, with Jesus, all who profess faith, “joining themselves to the Lord, ministering to him and loving the name of the Lord,” are able to receive the benefits that rightly belong to the Jewish people, the people of the covenant.  And so we are here today.

         My brothers and sisters, our Scriptures today ought to make clear to us that it is unacceptable for any of us to think that we are somehow a “chosen race”, privileged above all others (regardless of which ancestry we belong to).  Rather, we must be bearers of the Good News that God has made it so that all persons, regardless of ancestry, now have access to his divine life: granted that they meet the strict conditions: that they join themselves to the Lord, minister to him, love the name of the Lord, and become his servants.

         Friends, regardless of whether you were born and raised here or not, God desires you to be united to him in his Church, here in this place.  If you aren’t on board with this plan then you have chosen not to serve the Lord and you risk separating yourselves from him.  Nobody is saying, of course, that you have to stop being “Mexican”, “Guatemalan”, “Salvadorian”, “Honduran”, “Venezuelan”, “Spanish” or whatever type of “American”.  It does mean, however, that you have to see in this great diversity your brother, your sister, your co-heir to the kingdom won for us by Jesus; and that you have to accept your mission to go out from your own group to seek out those who still are not joined to us, so that they, too, might share in God’s divine life.

         My brothers and sisters, this Eucharist that we share is not the exclusive reward for one privileged group, but rather God’s divine life, given for all.  As we receive it today, let us be ready to bring our brothers and sisters to this table and thus bring God’s kingdom to fulfillment.

Given in Spanish at Our Lady of Mt. Carmel Parish: Carmel, IN

August 20^th, 2023

Trust in difficult times

Homily: 19^th Sunday in Ordinary Time – Cycle A

         For many, it seems, that just when God seems to be closest, he allows great trials to befall his closest friends.  Our readings today touch on this theme.  The prophet Elijah, who at the time appeared to be the only person faithful to God after the northern kingdom of Israel abandoned their faithfulness to him, finds himself hunted down as a heinous criminal after having proven that Yahweh, the God of the Israelite people, is the true God and that the gods that the people of the northern kingdom had been worshiping (the baals) were false and powerless.  Because of this, Elijah fell into despair.  He had called down fire from God when the over 400 prophets of baal could do no such thing; and, instead of finding a people who turned to God (and thus, who might stand with him, instead of against him), he found a people ever more anxious to destroy him.  This was a great trial for Elijah, known as the man of God.

         Saint Paul, after his conversion on the road to Damascus, began a very fruitful mission of bringing the Gospel to the Gentiles: the people from any nation that wasn’t a descendent of the ancient Israelite nation.  Nonetheless, he was tormented constantly because the people of his own heritage, the Israelites, with whom God had established his covenant, had rejected his message and had failed to accept Jesus as the Christ, the Messiah whom God had sent.  He was so bothered by this that, in his letter to the Romans, he wrote that he would readily give himself up to condemnation (that is, to eternal separation from God) if it would mean that his people would accept Jesus as the Christ and thus see the covenant come to fulfillment.  This was a great trial for Paul, known as the Apostle to the Gentiles.

         In our Gospel, we read how, after the miraculous feeding of the 5000, Jesus sent his disciples across the sea in a boat through the night.  During the night, a storm arose, filling the disciples with fear for their lives.  So much so, that when Jesus came towards them, walking on the water (!), they thought it was a ghost and, thus, a sign of their impending death.  This, too, was a great trial for those known as first followers of Jesus.

         One of the things that anyone who has accepted their vocation from God must face is the frustration and despair that can come when God seems to take his favor away from us, leaving us victim to the tumultuous forces of the world, even after he may have intervened in a powerful way in our lives.  In any one of these three episodes today we can probably find something of our own experiences.  Perhaps some of you have spoken up boldly against some wrong—maybe at work or in the community—only to find that those whom you expected to support you have turned against you and you begin to suffer more than if you had never spoken.  Or perhaps you made great sacrifices in your family—maybe even submitting yourself to great embarrassment among them—so that your children or grandchildren might grow in the Catholic faith, only to suffer as time and again they ignore and even reject your efforts.  Or maybe you’ve given of yourself and made sacrifices of both your time and your money to do the work of God to relieve some suffering for the poor, only to find that your own security is swept out from under you by the loss of a job or the support of a benefactor.

         While none of these things may ever destroy our belief in God, each one of them can, and often does, damage our trust in him.  As God has proven throughout history, however—in the Scriptures, in the lives of the saints, and in our own lives—he is never far from us when we find ourselves in the midst of these trials.  For Elijah, God allowed himself to be encountered in the “tiny whispering sound” in order to remind him that, in the midst of the clamor of the world seemingly fighting against him, God was close to him in the most silent recesses of his heart.  For Peter and the disciples, it was Jesus’ appearance in the midst of the storm, while unaffected by it, that could calm their fear and embolden them to step headlong into it (as evidenced by Peter’s trust in the Lord’s command to step out of the boat).  For Paul, it was the constant witness of the Scriptures that assured him that God’s promise to his people had not been revoked that motivated him to continue to proclaim the good news to the Gentiles: even to the point that he came to hope that it would be through the Gentiles that his people would eventually accept Jesus as the Christ.

         So it is for all of us, brothers and sisters.  We should in no way consider ourselves immune from this type of trial.  Rather, in the midst of these trials, we must give ourselves back over to God in trust: knowing that he, who did not abandon the great saints and prophets before us, will not abandon any of us, either.  In order to cultivate this trust, however, we have to do something that is increasingly difficult—nay, seemingly impossible—in today’s culture: we need to cultivate silence in our lives.  To do this, we must first turn off the external noise: the television, the internet, and our smart phones.  Then, comes the difficult work: for we must then confront our internal noise—our passions, anxieties, and frustrations—and seek to silence it as well by offering it all to God with acts of trust in his power to satisfy our every true desire and to save us from every trial.  Only then will we truly begin to hear the “tiny whispering sound” that is God’s assuring presence with us; and, thus, find the strength to persevere.  My brothers and sisters, we must take up this good work of seeking silence in order to overcome trials: for our lives of faith, literally, depend upon it!

         May God’s abiding presence in this Holy Eucharist fill us with peace to overcome every fear and to remain faithful to him until he comes again in glory.

Given in Spanish at St. Paul Parish: Marion, IN – August 12^th, 2023

Confianza en tiempos difíciles

Homilía: 19º Domingo en el Tiempo Ordinario – Ciclo A

         Para muchos, parece que al momento cuando Dios parece estar más cerca, él permite grandes pruebas a sus mejores amigos. Nuestras lecturas hoy en día tocan este tema. El profeta Elías, que en ese momento parecía ser la única persona fiel a Dios después de que el reino del norte de Israel le abandonó su fidelidad, se encuentra cazado como un criminal atroz después de haber probado que Yahweh, el Dios del pueblo israelita, es el verdadero Dios y que los dioses que los pueblos del reino del norte habían estado adorando (los baals) eran falsos e impotentes. Debido a esto, Elías cayó en la desesperación. Había llamado fuego de Dios cuando los más de 400 profetas de baal no pudieron hacer tal cosa; y, en lugar de encontrar a un pueblo que se volviera a Dios (y, por tanto, que podría estar con él, en lugar de contra él), encontró un pueblo cada vez más ansioso de destruirlo. Esta fue una gran prueba para Elías, conocido como el hombre de Dios.

         San Pablo, después de su conversión en el camino de Damasco, comenzó una misión muy fructífera de llevar el Evangelio a los gentiles: el pueblo de cualquier nación que no era un descendiente de la antigua nación de Israel. Sin embargo, fue atormentado constantemente porque el pueblo de su propia herencia, los israelitas, con quien Dios había establecido su alianza, había rechazado su mensaje y no había aceptado a Jesús como el Cristo, el Mesías que Dios había enviado. Estaba tan molestado por esto que, en su carta a los romanos, escribió que se entregaría a la condenación (es decir, a la separación eterna de Dios) si significaría que su pueblo aceptaría a Jesús como el Cristo y así vería que la alianza llegue a plenitud. Esta fue una gran prueba para Pablo, conocido como el Apóstol de los gentiles.

         En nuestro Evangelio, leemos cómo, después de la alimentación milagrosa de las 5000 personas, Jesús envió a sus discípulos a través del mar en una barca durante la noche. Durante la noche, una tormenta surgió, llenando a los discípulos de miedo por sus vidas. Tanto es así, que cuando Jesús vino hacia ellos, caminando sobre el agua (!), pensaron que era un fantasma y, por lo tanto, un signo de su muerte inminente. Esto también fue una gran prueba para aquellos conocidos como los primeros discípulos de Jesús.

         Una de las cosas que cualquier persona que ha aceptado su vocación de Dios debe enfrentar es la frustración y la desesperación que puede venir cuando Dios parece alejarse de nosotros, dejándonos víctima de las tumultuosas fuerzas del mundo, incluso después de que él pueda tener intervino de una manera poderosa en nuestras vidas. En cualquiera de estos tres episodios de hoy probablemente podamos encontrar algo de nuestras propias experiencias.

         Tal vez algunos de ustedes han hablado con valentía de algunos errores -tal vez en el trabajo o en la comunidad- sólo para descubrir que aquellos a quienes esperaban apoyarlos se han vuelto contra ustedes y comienzan a sufrir más que si nunca hubieran hablado. O tal vez hiciste grandes sacrificios en tu familia -tal vez hasta someterse a una gran vergüenza entre ellos- para que tus hijos o nietos crezcan en la fe católica, sólo para sufrir como una y otra vez que ignoran e incluso rechazan sus esfuerzos. O tal vez has dado de ti mismo y has hecho sacrificios tanto de tu tiempo como de tu dinero para hacer el trabajo de Dios para aliviar un poco de sufrimiento para los pobres, sólo para descubrir que tu propia seguridad es barrida fuera de ti por la pérdida de un trabajo o el apoyo de un benefactor.

         Aunque ninguna de estas cosas puede destruir nuestra creencia en Dios, cada una de ellas puede dañar nuestra confianza en él. Sin embargo, como Dios lo ha demostrado a lo largo de la historia -en las Escrituras, en las vidas de los santos y en nuestras propias vidas- nunca está lejos de nosotros cuando nos encontramos en medio de estas pruebas. Para Elías, Dios se permitió ser encontrado en "el murmullo de una brisa suave" para recordarle que, en medio del clamor del mundo aparentemente luchando contra él, Dios estaba cerca de él en los recovecos más silenciosos de su corazón. Para Pedro y los discípulos, fue la aparición de Jesús en medio de la tormenta, sin ser afectada por ella, lo que pudo calmar su miedo y animarlos a dar un paso adelante (como lo demuestra la confianza de Pedro en el mandato del Señor de salir del barco). Para Pablo, fue el testimonio constante de las Escrituras lo que le aseguró que la promesa de Dios a su pueblo no había sido revocada, lo que lo motivó a seguir proclamando la buena noticia a los gentiles: hasta el punto de que esperaba que ser a través de los gentiles que su pueblo acabaría aceptando a Jesús como el Cristo.

         Así es para todos nosotros, hermanos y hermanas. De ninguna manera debemos considerarnos inmunes a este tipo de pruebas. Más bien, en medio de estas pruebas, debemos entregarnos a Dios en confianza: sabiendo que él, que no abandonó a los grandes santos y profetas antes de nosotros, tampoco nos abandonará a ninguno de nosotros. Para cultivar esta confianza, sin embargo, debemos hacer algo que es cada vez más difícil -y casi imposible- en la cultura de hoy: necesitamos cultivar el silencio en nuestras vidas.

         Para ello, primero debemos desactivar el ruido externo: la televisión, la red y nuestros celulares. Entonces, viene el trabajo difícil: porque entonces debemos enfrentar nuestro ruido interno - nuestras pasiones, ansiedades y frustraciones - y tratar de silenciarlo también ofreciéndolo a Dios con actos de confianza en su poder para satisfacer nuestro verdadero deseo y para salvarnos de toda prueba. Sólo entonces comenzaremos verdaderamente a escuchar "el murmullo de una brisa suave" que es la presencia de Dios asegurando con nosotros; y, por lo tanto, encontrar la fuerza para perseverar. Mis hermanos y hermanas, debemos tomar este buen trabajo de buscar el silencio para sobrevenir las pruebes: ¡porque nuestras vidas de fe, literalmente, dependen de ello!

         Que la presencia permanente de Dios en esta Santa Eucaristía nos llene de paz para vencer todo temor y permanecer fiel a él hasta que vuelva en gloria.

Dado en la parroquia de San Pablo: Marion, IN

12 de agosto, 2023