Trusting that God fulfills his promises

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

Friends, a dominant theme in today’s readings is that God fulfills his promises and that those who, therefore, place their trust in God are greatly rewarded.  In the first reading from the book of Wisdom, we are reminded that God promised the Israelites that he would lead them out of slavery in Egypt into a land that would be their own, where they would enjoy freedom and prosperity.  The sign would be the Passover, when God would send his destroying angels to eliminate the first-born throughout the land of Egypt but would spare the Israelites if their homes were marked with the blood of the sacrifice.  This command was not without risk.  The Israelites were not allowed to offer sacrifice to God in Egypt and so, if God did not fulfill his promise, the morning after the proposed “Passover” the Egyptians would see that they did, indeed, sacrifice to their God and so would punish them severely for it.  The Israelites, having seen the other signs that God had performed (the other 9 “plagues”), trusted that God would fulfill his promise and so made the sacrifice.  They were rewarded with their liberty.

In the second reading we go back further in salvation history to Abraham and recall that he, too, trusted that God fulfills his promises and so was rewarded.  Abraham was one of a certain people who lived in the land of Ur of the Chaldeans (modern-day Iraq).  God called him out of that land, however, so as to make of him the first of a new people, set apart for God alone.  Abraham set out, already advanced in years, yet without any children, trusting that God would fulfill his promises if he remained faithful.  Even after his wife Sarah conceived and bore him a son (through which this promise of “descendants as numerous as the stars in the sky” might be fulfilled), Abraham trusted when God asked that he offer his son as a sacrifice.  The author of the Letter to the Hebrews says that Abraham “received Isaac back as a symbol”: a symbol that God, indeed, fulfills his promises.

Then, in the Gospel reading, we hear Jesus give stern warnings to his disciples.  “Be vigilant!  As my disciples, don’t waste time with worldly pursuits, but always be about the work that I am giving you!  You will not know when I return; and if I return and find you lounging around (or worse!) you will be severely punished.  But if you are found to be about the work that I have given you, you will receive a blessed reward.”  It’s the kind of warning that can make you sleep with one eye open, right?  It’s the kind of warning that gives rise to bumper-stickers that say, “Jesus is coming, look busy!”  The warning is not so much a threat, however, but a promise: for at the beginning of the reading, Jesus says, “Do not be afraid any longer, little flock, (how tender!) for the Father is pleased to give you the kingdom.”  In other words, you don’t have to prove yourselves in worldly pursuits and conquests—the source of much fear and anxiety for us—but be about the work I am giving you, for the Father is ready to give you far more than the world can ever give: the fullness of the kingdom.  If I come and find you doing this work, great will be your reward!  The rest of the New Testament (Acts of the Apostles and the Epistles) demonstrate to us that Jesus’ disciples did exactly that: trusted that God fulfills his promises and so did as they were called to do.  Each that did has now found his/her reward in heaven.

Bishop Doherty’s pastoral plan for the diocese, Uniting In Heart 2030, is a challenge to each of us to exercise this kind of trust.  Paying attention to the reality that is before us, Bishop Doherty is courageously putting forth a plan that will take us out of our comfort zones, yet which contains a promise for future strength and prosperity for the Catholic Church in North-Central Indiana.  The question for us is whether we will trust in the Holy Spirit, who has inspired this plan—that he will fulfill his promises—and so set out on this journey of transformation.  Hopefully, we will see this challenge in the light of Jesus’ warnings: that this is part of the work that he has given to us and so should be found busy about it when he comes and so set ourselves to the work.  I am committing myself to it, including the personal work of transformation that it will require of me: trusting not only that our diocese and parishes will be stronger, but that I, too, will be stronger—that is, holier... more ready for the kingdom—when this work of transformation is finished.  I hope that each of you will join me in this work.

Saint Jeanne Jugan, the foundress of the Little Sisters of the Poor, from whom we will hear at the end of Mass today, also trusted that God fulfills his promises and so set out to serve the elderly poor, in spite of all of the obstacles that she would encounter.  This order stands as a testament to the blessings that come from placing our trust in God and the power that our witness of trust has to move other hearts to do the same.  May the faithfulness of God, who never ceases to hand over his Son, Jesus, to us here in this Eucharist, inspire in us greater trust, so that we, too, may step out into the unknown: where the reward of God’s kingdom—the kingdom of reconciliation... harmony... PEACE among all people—will be found.

Given at Saint Mary’s Cathedral: Lafayette, IN – August 10^th & 11^th, 2019

The conditions for prayer

Homily: 17th Sunday of Ordinary Time – Cycle C

          When I was still a student studying for my engineering degree, I worked at a small manufacturing plant that makes bumpers for semi-trucks.  Whenever I needed to get some maintenance work done, I had to submit a “work order” that described what needed to be done and when it needed to be done by.  What I quickly found out, however, was that the maintenance crew was overloaded and that my work orders often sat on a pile of other work orders that weren’t getting completed and that the crew worked on whatever the shop-floor supervisor told them was most important for the day.  Frustrated by this, I would often forego the whole process completely.  If I could just do it myself, I would.  If I couldn’t then I would document it and move on to the next thing.

          I think, sometimes, we can see prayer kind of like a “maintenance work order” system.  We fill out our form and submit it to God and he is supposed to put his crew to work to take care of it for us.  When it works, we feel satisfied.  God is there for us and we can rely on him.  When it doesn’t seem to work, we feel frustrated.  God is unreliable and so if we want this to be taken care of we either need to do it ourselves or just accept that we’ve been dealt a bad hand and that there’s nothing we can do about it.  Of course there’s more to prayer than just making requests of God, but I think you’d be surprised to find out how many people turn away from God on account of feeling like God had let them down when they felt like they most needed him to respond.  In today’s readings, we are given a model of this type prayer that can help us understand it more deeply, which is good; because when we understand it more deeply, we are less likely to become frustrated by its results.

          In our Gospel reading, Jesus’ disciples observe him in prayer and, probably quite innocently, ask him, their teacher, to teach them how to pray.  As Jesus often does, however, when he’s given an inch, he takes a mile and he not only teaches them how to pray (i.e. the correct words and manner in which to pray), but he teaches them the pre-conditions for prayer as well.

          As presented to us today, prayer in which we ask something from God has three basic characteristics: 1) be humble; 2) ask for a just thing; and 3) be persistent.  First: be humble.  As Jesus taught his disciples and as Abraham shows us today, our first task is always to recognize who it is we are addressing and what our relationship to him is.  Abraham was bold, but before he pushed God on the issue he first acknowledged that God knew better than he and so would submit to his judgments.  When we pray as Jesus taught us and say “Father…” we too acknowledge our relationship to God: that is, that he has wisdom and authority that is far greater than ours and so deserves our deference to his judgments.

          Second: ask for a just thing.  Abraham was a righteous man and so he could see the inherent conflict in the notion that God—who purports to be the just judge—would destroy innocent people for the sake of punishing those who are guilty and so he pleads, in a sense, for the lives of the innocent who live there by testing the limits of God’s justice.  In the example that Jesus gives, the man, though he comes at midnight, asks for a just thing: some bread to feed his friend that had just arrived from a journey, which, on account of the customs surrounding hospitality in the ancient Jewish culture, was something that he was expected to provide and so was a just think to request.

          Third: be persistent.  Abraham rightly saw that if God would withhold his wrath for the lives of fifty innocent men that justice would demand that he do the same if the number were as low as ten; and so he asked again and again, not presuming he knew better than God, but so as to see if God’s idea of justice lined up with his.  His persistence produced a commitment from God to spare the city (of, presumably, thousands of people) if even ten innocent persons were found there.  In Jesus’ example, the man, because he asks for a just thing, and because his friend is, also (presumably) a righteous person, receives what he asks for even in spite of the inconvenience he has caused his friend.  Notice that there was no conflict with what was asked for; because what was asked for was a just thing.  Part of being humble, however, means acknowledging that what we are asking for may not necessarily be the just thing.  Therefore, we must always be open to being shown that what we’ve asked for is not what is truly needed and so be open to receiving a different response in its place.

          Be humble, ask for a just thing, and be persistent.  These are the three characteristics of prayers of petition.  What is not often acknowledged in this lesson on prayer, however, is the necessary pre-condition for making this type of prayer.  Simply stated, this type of prayer requires a pre-existing relationship.

           I have a very good friend, named Joe, who I used to work with when I worked as an engineer.  We used to car-pool to work together and through that and our work our relationship grew.  To this day I am very close with his family and am godfather to his oldest son.  Over my years in the seminary and now as a priest, I have called on him multiple times, usually when he was not expecting it, to ask for some sort of help.  I never had any fear calling on him because I knew that whatever it was that I needed from him was a good thing and that, because of our friendship, he’d be very willing to offer his help.  Even if he was resistant, at first, I knew that I could push on him for it because he could be relied upon to respond if he was able; even if it would be inconvenient for him or his family.  I could only do that, however, because I had built a relationship with him first.

          The same applies to our prayers of petition.  When we’ve spent time with God, building our relationship with him, we become much more apt to turn to him with our needs and also to trust that, even if his response seems to be long-delayed, he will respond and give us what it is that we need (even if it isn’t exactly what we asked for).
There’s a saying that states that God responds to prayers of petition in one of three ways: “Ok”, “Ok, but not now”, and “Ok, but I have a better idea”.  When we build a relationship with God through spending time with him in the sacraments, in private prayer, and in reading the Bible, we become both bold in bringing to God all of our needs and also open to hearing which of these three responses he offers to us when we turn to him.

          My brothers and sisters, our Good God wants us to turn to him with all of our needs, big and small, because he truly is our Father who loves us dearly.  Like any good father, however, he wants even more to be in a close, intimate relationship with us, so that we may learn to trust that, even if he does not appear to respond immediately or in the way we desire, he will nonetheless respond: in the way and at the time that we truly need it.  Let us, then, renew our commitment to draw close to him today and to turn to him for all of our needs; for his promise to remain near to us—the sacrifice of his Son—is already here at hand.

Given at Saint Mary’s Cathedral: Lafayette, IN – July 28th, 2019

Not "us or them", but "us for them"

          This weekend we hosted Fr. Babuku Luis, a Missionary of the Scared Heart, for our annual Missionary Co-op appeal.  He had a little trouble on Sunday morning and so missed the homily opportunity at the early Mass, giving me the opportunity to pull out one of my "greatest hits".  After having preached it, I thought much of the message was still apropos for us today.  I've made a couple of edits from the original to adapt it to the events of 2019 (which is why I feel it is still apropos).  Have a great week!

Homily: 16^th Sunday in Ordinary Time – Cycle C

          Writer, editor and social reformer Dorothy Day was born on November 8, 1897, in New York City. She was the third of five children born to her parents, Grace and John.  Her father worked as a journalist.  Because of this, the family moved to California when Dorothy was six years old.  Later, however, they would live in Chicago.

          A bright student, Day was accepted to the University of Illinois. She was enrolled there from 1914 to 1916, but she abandoned her studies to move to New York City. There, she became involved with a literary and liberal crowd in the city's Greenwich Village neighborhood. She worked as a journalist, writing for several socialist and progressive publications in the 1910s and '20s.  Socially and politically active, Day was arrested several times for her involvement in protests.  In 1917 she went on a hunger strike after being jailed for protesting in front of the White House as part of an effort to secure the right to vote for women.

          In her personal life, Day experienced turmoil. After a couple of failed relationships, one of which led to her procuring an abortion, she entered a common-law marriage with Forster Batterham, a biologist and an anarchist.  They gave birth to a daughter named Tamar Teresa, but Day’s choice to have the child baptized at a Catholic church caused her anarchist husband to leave her.  It was this decision, however, that started her on the path to her spiritual awakening; and, in late 1927, she converted to Catholicism.

          In 1932, Day met Peter Maurin, a French immigrant and former Christian Brother. The following year, they founded The Catholic Worker, a newspaper that promoted Catholic teachings and examined societal issues. The publication became very successful and spawned the Catholic Worker Movement, which followed its religious principles to tackle issues of social justice. As part of the movement’s belief in radical hospitality, Day helped establish special homes to help those in need. Peter Maurin’s influence is evident here as he often quoted Hebrews chapter thirteen, verse two, which says: “Do not neglect hospitality, for through it some have unknowingly entertained angels.”

          Day would go on to do many more things in her life, but through it all her insistence on radical conformity to the Gospel, not just in words, but in concrete action, was a constant.  Thus, her cause for canonization has been accepted by the Vatican and she has received the title “Servant of God”.

          Hospitality was an important value among the people of the Ancient Near East and in our Scripture readings today we see the truth of what the author to the Letter to the Hebrews was talking about.  In the reading from the book of Genesis it describes how the Lord appeared to Abraham as three men on a journey.  They appeared at the hot part of the day, when the day’s journey would be most difficult.  Upon seeing them, Abraham jumps to action: not just offering them some relief from the heat of the day, but rather insisting with them that they allow him to show them this act of hospitality.  He did not know them, and his first reaction wasn’t suspicion, but rather generous hospitality.  As it turns out, he was entertaining angels: true messengers of the Lord who then gave him good news: that his wife, Sarah, whom all thought was barren due to her old age, would give birth to a son within a year.

          In our Gospel reading, we read that Jesus, upon entering a village, was welcomed by Martha.  It doesn’t say that Martha was the first to offer him hospitality, but I suppose that we might assume as much since the rules of etiquette require that we accept the first offer we are given.  There, much like Abraham did for the Lord’s messengers, Martha busied herself with preparing food and refreshments for Jesus and his disciples.  Thinking it rude that her sister Mary was not as occupied with trying to serve their guests, she asks Jesus to reproach her so that she might be embarrassed and begin to help with the serving.  Jesus, however, reminds Martha that, while serving is a good thing, it is not as important as recognizing who it is that is in your midst: for when you do, you may just find that you’ve been entertaining angels (or, in this case, the Son of God) and that those angels may be ready to bring you good news.

          My brothers and sisters, as I reflect on the immigration crisis at our southern border, I am convinced that one of the root causes of this crisis is a loss of this value of hospitality.  This is because to be radically hospitable one has to acknowledge the inherent dignity and value of every person, regardless of from where they come or whether they are known to you.  When we look at others with suspicion, instead of rushing to serve them, like Abraham and Martha did, and like Dorothy Day did, that sets us up to believe that it’s “us versus them”; and if it’s “us versus them” then their lives automatically become less valuable to us, which then makes it possible to harm them for our advantage, instead of to serve them for theirs.

          Friends, if we want to see a real change in this world, then we must start right here in our own families and in our community, changing the prevailing mentality from “us versus them” to “us for them”.  We must begin, however, where Martha’s sister Mary did—sitting at the feet of Jesus listening to him speak—because he will be our solid rock supporting us as we serve and the angel whose face we will see in the faces of those whom we serve.  Therefore, let us make it our task this week to open our hearts a little more to Jesus by giving him more time in prayer, and our lives to him by practicing greater hospitality to all whom we meet.  Because in doing so, we may find that we, too, “unknowingly entertained angels”.

Originally given at All Saints Parish: Logansport, IN – July 17^th, 2016

Given at St. Mary's Cathedral: Lafayette, IN - July 21^st, 2019

Let's make a deal...

          This weekend we made our "in-pew" commitments to our stewardship of treasure at St. Mary's Cathedral.  This homily led up to the collecting of the commitment pledge cards and presenting them at the altar.

Homily: 2^nd Sunday of Lent – Cycle C

          Many of you, I’m sure, will remember the game show “Let’s Make a Deal” with Monty Hall.  It was a show that defined the genre, in many ways, and whose popularity extends into its reincarnation today, hosted now by Wayne Brady.  You’ll recall that the premise of the show was pretty simple: regular folk were gathered into the studio audience where Monte Hall passed through and chose persons randomly to offer them prizes and then the chance to trade those prizes for the possibility of winning prizes that were more valuable.

          For example: Monty would ask if anyone had a pair of eyelash tweezers and would give the first person he saw who had a pair $100.  Then he would proceed to deal with them, offering them something bigger of unknown value (something, perhaps, behind one of the big doors).  The big doors could hide prizes as valuable as cars or as worthless as a ride on a donkey around the parking lot after the show.  Thus, the crux of the show: will the person—who had nothing but a pair of eyelash tweezers to start with—give up the $100 for a chance to win something much more valuable, knowing that it could actually be something worthless; thus leaving them to go home having lost even the eyelash tweezers?

          Of course, there was never any way to know for sure what would be beyond those big doors.  Thus, the contestants would have to take a blind leap of faith that there was something valuable behind the door if they wanted the chance to take home a more valuable prize.  The fact that, more often than not, people did end up taking home more valuable prizes meant that the show remained wildly popular for a long time.

          The contestants on the show had to use blind faith if they wanted to win a big prize.  On the surface, that doesn’t seem too different from the deal that God was offering Abram in today’s first reading.

          The beginning of our reading lands us right in the middle of the conversation, it seems, where God invites Abram outside of his tent and says: “Look up at the sky and count the stars, if you can.  Just so … shall your descendents be.”  Perhaps our natural reaction is to think, “Abram would have seen thousands of stars… that would be a pretty impressive promise.”  When we keep reading, however, we realize that it wasn’t at night that God proposed this promise, but it was the middle of the day, because later in the reading it describes the day approaching sunset, indicating that the earlier part of the conversation must have been in the daytime.  Abram, therefore, couldn’t see the stars that God was asking him to count: rather, they were “hidden” behind the “big door” of the sky.

          So, when the reading says that “Abram put his faith in the Lord”, was it blind faith?  I don’t think so.  You see, on “Let’s Make a Deal” the contestants couldn’t know what was behind the door and, thus, were “blind” to whether or not it hid a valuable prize.  Abram, on the other hand, knew the vast quantity of stars that were out there: he had seen them.  And so, when God promised him that his descendants would be as numerous as the stars, even though at that moment he couldn’t begin to count them (because he couldn’t see them), he knew that they were there and so his faith was not blind.  It’s as if God had said to him: “Just as you know that there is a vast quantity of stars out there, even though now you cannot see them, so, too, there is a vast quantity of descendants that will follow you, even though now you cannot see them.  And just as sure as you are that the stars will appear after the sun sets, so will these numerous descendants of yours appear after the sun has set on your life.”

          This, my brothers and sisters, is the essence of what faith is.  In the Letter to the Hebrews it says that “faith is the realization of things hoped for, and the evidence of things not seen.”  Faith is “evidence”, it says.  Therefore, when “Abram put his faith in the Lord” it wasn’t just a good feeling that he had, but rather a conviction that supplied to him the evidence that his eyes could not give him.  “I cannot see my descendants,” he might have thought to himself, “but Faith convicts me that what the Lord says is true; thus, I will place my trust in him.”

          Faith, like Abram’s faith, has built and sustained this parish for 152-plus years.  Our ancestors… I use that term loosely here, meaning “those who have come before us”, since not all of us are direct descendants of those who founded this parish… our ancestors couldn’t see what would become of the parish they founded in 1866, but they put their faith in God that his promise to “multiply their descendants” would be fulfilled.  As their “spiritual offspring”, we maintain that legacy by continuing to put our faith in God: that what we have today can continue to grow and expand into future generations.

          Last weekend, we heard testimonials of how the presence of this parish and the dedication of its members have made a powerful and positive impact on the lives of others.  We heard from the Starr family, who moved away from their roots but found acceptance here; and, thus, fertile ground to plant themselves and establish their own roots.  We heard from Dianna Ping, who discovered in this community the saving grace that comes to us through Jesus Christ: a grace she just couldn’t find on her own.  And we heard from Rachel Witt, whose faith has been shaped and deepened as she engaged her work as a catechist: one of the many opportunities to exercise one’s discipleship here at Saint Mary’s.

          Friends, there are literally hundreds more stories like these among the members of this parish: perhaps you even have your own.  Every story is evidence of some instance in which members of Saint Mary’s put their faith in God and trusted in his promise to bring forth “descendants as numerous as the stars of the sky” from the trust that they have put in him.

          Every day, our school and religious education programs for young people impact families: inviting them to consider their faith more deeply and challenging them to live it out more fully.  Financial support to the school and tuition assistance to families is crucial to maintaining these ministries.  Our RCIA program and adult faith formation programs are invaluable for helping individuals to come into the Church and to solidify their place here.  Our subscription to formed.org and flocknote helps to add flexibility in faith formation and communication: meeting people according to their schedule, not ours.  Our support of outreach ministries like the Matrix Pregnancy Center, Lafayette Urban Ministries, and, of course, our sister parish in Haiti are just a few of the ways that our resources reach beyond our parish to impact those most in need.  Amidst all of this, we still maintain our sacred spaces and supply our liturgical ministries so that we, too, can continue to be fed by God in Word and Sacrament.

          To top it all off, 75 years ago our ancestors agreed that Saint Mary of the Immaculate Conception would become the Cathedral of Saint Mary of the Immaculate Conception when the Diocese of Lafayette-in-Indiana was newly formed: receiving in that the honor of housing the Bishop’s Chair (or cathedra), as well as the responsibility to be a beacon of Catholic Faith to everyone in north-central Indiana.  Your pride in having received this honor, as well as your commitment to fulfill this responsibility, is evident in the way that you support this church’s maintenance and regular renewal, as well as making it available to others.

          None of this would be possible on our expression of faith alone.  Rather, it is all made possible when we put our faith into action to support these and many other ministries with our time, talent, and treasure.  For this, I—who am, in many ways, still one of the newest members of Saint Mary’s and its legacy—am deeply grateful. ///

          In a few weeks Holy Week will be upon us.  One of the many highlights of Holy Week is the Chrism Mass that we host here.  Although the blessing of the Sacred Oils is often highlighted as the purpose of the Mass, one other equally important thing occurs: the priests of the diocese re-new their commitment to the priesthood and to serving the people of this diocese.  Yes, that means that every year I stand in this sanctuary with my brother priests and before our bishop to renew my commitment to the priesthood and, thus, to you, the people of the diocese.  It is a re-commitment that I take very seriously—I see it as the renewal of a sacred covenant between myself and God/His Church—and it is done out of my love for Christ and my love for all of you.  In that same spirit, I am asking you to join me this weekend in this yearly renewal of our covenant with God and his Church by renewing our commitments to support our parish.

          This past week you received your commitment cards in the mail.  I hope that you took the opportunity to prayerfully consider your commitment and that you remembered to bring your completed commitment card with you today.  If not, I will give you a few moments to fill out one of the blank cards in the pew.  Then, the ushers will come forward to collect the cards.  After they have been collected, we will bring them forward to be placed at the foot of the altar, signifying that we are uniting these sacrifices with the one, perfect sacrifice that Christ made for us when he died for us on the Cross: the sacrifice that is our proof that God has fulfilled every promise that he made to us.  I realize that some of you may not be able to increase your commitment this year—and that some of you may even need to decrease your commitment.  Please do not worry.  Placing my faith in God I trust that, through our prayerful consideration and commitment to sacrifice, God will, nonetheless, provide for all that we need.

          Once again, thank you for your faith: the faith that has made Christ’s presence among us real and tangible here at Saint Mary’s parish—now Saint Mary’s Cathedral—for more than 152 years.

          May Abraham, our father in faith, pray for us that God will make abundantly fruitful the faith that we put into action through our commitments today.

Given at Saint Mary’s Cathedral: Lafayette, IN – March 16^th & 17^th, 2019

Saying "yes" to God's voice

Homily: 2^nd Sunday in Lent – Cycle B

          Michigan mega-church pastor Rob Bell has produced a series of videos that take a simple, straight-forward approach to demonstrating how the Gospel applies to everyday life.  In one of the videos that I’ve seen, Mr. Bell speaks about the importance of saying “yes” to something.  In doing so, he emphasizes, we can then come to know what it is that we need to say “no” to in our lives.  He uses Jesus as an example to illustrate his point, stating that because Jesus said “yes” to do the Father’s will, announcing the Good News and redeeming God’s people, he could say “no” to many other things (like when Jesus turned away when he knew the crowd was going to make him their king).

          This is a video (a short film, really) and so of course there is a visual component to his speaking.  In the film, the whole time that he is talking he’s walking, seemingly from one side of a city to another.  At first his surroundings just seem like normal busy streets, but if you’re paying attention you begin to notice that the surroundings are part of the point.  The visual noises are distractions that surround him as he walks.  At a couple of points, a person actually walks in between Mr. Bell and the camera as he’s walking, but he never loses his stride until he arrives at his destination (which happens to be a school where he meets a young boy that we are to assume is his son).  The well-made point of both his words and the visual presentation is to emphasize how knowing to what it is that we have said “yes” keeps us focused (i.e. able to say “no”) in the midst of the world’s distractions.

          Our scriptures today lead us to think about how God’s voice gets into the middle of people’s lives.  In our first reading, Abraham hears God’s voice, who commands him to do something horrific: to take his son Isaac (that is, the son that God had promised to him as the first of the innumerable descendants that Abraham would have) and how Abraham followed what God had asked him to do.  This, of course, was not the first time that Abraham had said “yes” to God.  In fact, it was many years before, when Abraham was still “Abram”, that God first called Abraham and directed him to leave the land of his fathers to travel to a land which he would show him.  That was when Abraham first said his “yes” to God.  In the many years that followed, Abraham maintained that “yes” to God; and so, when God asked Abraham to give his son Isaac back to him, Abraham could say “yes” once again. /// Because he was clear about to what he had said “yes”, Abraham could say “no” to everything else.

          In the Gospel, Jesus takes Peter, James, and John on a hike up to a high place.  Knowing that Jesus often did this to have a quiet place where he could teach or pray, I’m guessing that the three were anticipating a quiet afternoon.  But then, the Transfiguration…  Moses and Elijah…  And, to top it all off, the voice of God booms out from the thick cloud that had descended upon them.  They had already said “yes” to Jesus when they responded to his call to leave their nets and follow him.  Now their “yes” had to go deeper (like Abraham’s had to go deeper).  In commanding these three to “listen to him”, the Father was, in essence, saying, “Obey him completely”.  And how soon would this be tested?  As soon as they started down from the high place: The Gospel says that “…[Jesus] charged them not to relate what they had seen to anyone, except when the Son of Man had risen from the dead.” /// Because they had seen the full glory of that to which they had said “yes”, Peter, James, and John could then say “no” to everything else.

          And so, the question comes to us: “To whom (or to what) have I said ‘yes’?”  To answer this question, we need to take a look at to whose voice we listen and to whose we don’t.  This is an examination of conscience.  Is it God’s voice to which you listen?  Or is it to one (or more) of the many other voices that fill your day?  The ones, perhaps, who are closest to you and whose opinions and good graces you value highly?  If the voice to which you listen—that is, the voice to which you have said “yes”—isn’t God’s, then Lent is the time to “re-orient your hearing”, so to speak.

          In our second reading, Saint Paul reminds us powerfully that we should be listening—that is, giving our “yes”—to God.  In it, Paul is asking: "Who has done more for us besides God?"  God, who has given up his only son for us (and, in this context, we can add even when he didn't make Abraham do so).  If he has given us that much, Paul continues, how will he not give us everything else we need in this world, which is clearly much less valuable?  Then he asks, "If God has done this for us, then who should we fear in this world?"  For no one has more power than God and He has proven that he is "for" us (that is, “on our side”).  Thus, who (or what) have we to fear?  If it is God who ultimately decides our fate, then we must fear (that is, listen to) him alone.

          Okay, so how do I hear God’s voice and, thus, demonstrate my "yes" to God?  Well, first and foremost, follow his commandments.  Maybe you’re not hearing the voice of God speaking into your ear like Abraham did, but Abraham didn’t have the commandments: we do.  The commandments (and the moral teachings of Holy Mother Church which stem from them) are the voice of God for each of us.  If we are not following those, then we are certainly not giving our full “yes” to God.  Examine your conscience, then, and see if you are following his commandments.  If not, repent.  Seek forgiveness through the sacrament of Reconciliation and resolve to follow them from this point forward.

          Second, fulfill your vocation.  Whatever calling God has given to you (marriage, parenthood, the single life…), learn what it looks like to live this virtuously and then live it.  The Church Fathers tell us that every creature gives great glory to God by simply being fully what it is that God made it to be.  The same goes for us.  If you are a husband or wife, be the best husband or wife you can be.  If you are a parent, be the best parent you can be.  If you are single, be the best servant of others that you can be.  (Each of which are measured by the Christian law of charity, of course.)  If we’re falling short, then, again, we need to repent and resolve to become the best, according to our abilities.  And why these?  Because then you'll be on the same wavelength as God and you will be able to hear other, specific ways in which he wants you to act.

          My friends, Lent is about restoring our "yes" to God and to his voice.  Our Lenten practices of prayer, fasting, and almsgiving ought to have as their goal helping us to restore it.  And this, so that, through obedience, we would receive the blessings promised to Abraham, because of his obedience.  And, still further, so that God's kingdom—which is nothing short than seeing the Glorious Face of Jesus—would be made known among us.  May our Blessed Mother Mary, whose “yes” brought Christ our Savior to us, be for us a model; and may her prayers lead us to this glory that each of our hearts seeks.

Given at All Saints Parish: Logansport, IN – February 24^th & 25^th, 2018

Decir "sí", una vez y para siempre

Homilía: La Fiesta de la Sagrada Familia de Jesús, María, y José – Ciclo B

          Hace unos años, fui invitado a una cena para promover vocaciones al sacerdocio donde el arzobispo Pedro Sartain iba a hablar. En su charla, habló de su experiencia de dejar su diócesis natal de Memphis para convertirse en obispo de la diócesis de Little Rock, Arkansas; y luego de dejar la diócesis de Little Rock para la diócesis de Joliet en Illinois. Dijo que, en ambos casos, tenía que recordar el día de su ordenación como sacerdote. Dijo que se dio cuenta de que ese día (el día de su ordenación) había dicho "sí" a Dios y que este "sí" era abierto. En otras palabras, sabía que su "sí" era un "sí" para cualquier cosa que Dios, a través de su Iglesia, lo llamara a hacer en el futuro, incluso si eso lo alejara de su familia y su amado rebaño. Por lo tanto, aunque sintió una profunda tristeza por dejar su diócesis natal y luego su primera diócesis como obispo, él aceptó con confianza el llamado de la Iglesia; porque en su corazón, sabía que ya había dicho "sí" a todo eso el día de su ordenación al sacerdocio.

          En nuestras Escrituras de hoy, nos encontramos con otro hombre cuyo "sí" a Dios fue abierto, y que lo llevó a lugares y experiencias que nunca había soñado. Abraham (quien, inicialmente, fue llamado simplemente "Abram") fue un hombre bendecido por Dios y a quien Dios se reveló en visiones. Dios tenía un plan para Abraham: un plan que lo llevaría lejos de su tierra natal, con solo la vaga seguridad de la prosperidad cuando él llegara. Abraham puso su fe en Dios, quien se le había revelado a él, y partió de la tierra de Ur de los Caldeos por una tierra desconocida que iba a recibir como herencia.

          Esto, por supuesto, no solo lo afectó a él, sino a toda su familia. Su esposa, Sarah, y toda su familia (incluido su ganado) se mudarían con él; y la dificultad que soportaron durante el viaje fue grande. La fe de Abraham fue probada, al igual que su relación con su esposa, pero él perseveró y se estableció en la tierra que Dios le había prometido.

          Habiéndose establecido en la tierra que Dios le había prometido, Dios le prometió prosperidad y protección a Abraham. Abraham, sin embargo, cuestionó la promesa de Dios: “¿qué me vas a poder dar, puesto que voy a morir sin hijos?” Esto, porque estos pueblos antiguos aún no habían desarrollado la noción del alma inmortal y entonces creyeron que la "vida eterna" vino por tener hijos, en los que vivió su nombre y, por lo tanto, su patrimonio. Abraham no quería la prosperidad material; más bien, él quería la vida eterna. Por lo tanto, Dios haría otra promesa: la promesa de descendientes más numerosos que las estrellas en el cielo. /// Sin embargo, pasarían muchos años antes de que Dios cumpliera esta promesa y le otorgara a Abraham y a su esposa Sara un hijo. Esta fue otra prueba de la fe de Abraham: una prueba que, una vez más, afectó a toda su familia.

          Tan difícil como podría haber sido esta prueba, todavía habría una prueba final para Abraham. Después de cumplir su promesa de dar a Abraham un heredero, Dios llama a Abraham ofrecer a su hijo Isaac como sacrificio. En este punto, me imagino que Abraham sintió que ya estaba demasiado; y me imagino que tuvo que orar mucho sobre si debía obedecer o no. Al final, me imagino que pensó en la primera revelación que Dios le había devuelto en su tierra de Ur de los Caldeos. Imagino que miró ese primer "sí" que le había dado a Dios y luego se dio cuenta de que decir "no" ahora sería negar todas las bendiciones que había recibido al decir "sí" a todo lo que había recibido antes. En otras palabras, sabía que su primer "sí" era abierto: un sí no solo al primer mandamiento de Dios de dejar su tierra por una tierra desconocida para él, sino también a todo lo que vendría después; y entonces él dijo "sí" a Dios una vez más y trajo a su hijo para que se le ofreciera como un sacrificio. /// Nosotros, por supuesto, sabemos el resto de esta historia: que Dios impidió que Abraham completara el sacrificio y, como se relata la Carta a los Hebreos, Abraham "le fue devuelto Isaac" y con ello la promesa de una familia de innumerables descendientes.

          La Sagrada Familia de Jesús, María y José es también una familia cuya vida se vio afectada por un "sí" abierto por parte de sus miembros. María se enfrentó al arcángel Gabriel, quien se le apareció y le anunció el plan increíble de Dios para su vida. Ella, sin embargo, había hecho una consagración secreta de la virginidad a Dios y por lo tanto no podía comprender cómo sería posible concebir al niño que el ángel le estaba prometiendo. Sin embargo, ella confió en Dios y dijo "sí": un "sí" al que tendría que regresar una y otra vez a medida que se le revelaran más acerca de quién sería su hijo y las dificultades que enfrentaría (y las dificultades que enfrentaría a través de él)—revelaciones como la que recibió del profeta del Templo, Simeón.

          José, también, tendría que decir "sí" a un ángel, el que se le apareció en un sueño. Cuando descubrió que su esposa, supuestamente virgen, había quedado embarazada antes de haber consumado su matrimonio, decidió divorciarse de ella, porque, como nos dicen las Escrituras, era un hombre justo y eso era lo que exigía la Ley mosaica. Él también, sin embargo, confió en Dios y dijo "sí": un "sí" al que él también tendría que regresar en el futuro, como cuando se vio obligado a huir con su familia a Egipto para evitar la persecución de Herodes. Los "sís" de Jose y de María a Dios fueron abiertos. No podían prever todo lo que estos "sís" exigirían de ellos, sin embargo, confiaron en Dios y les dieron de todos modos; y para esto, ya han recibido su recompensa.

          Hasta el día de hoy, las familias fieles en la tierra de Abraham, Sara e Isaac—de Jesús, María y José—se encuentran en situaciones igualmente difíciles. Los cristianos en todo el Medio Oriente, y especialmente hoy en Siria e Irak, están siendo perseguidos duramente por extremistas religiosos y se ven obligados a enfrentar su "sí" que le han dado a Dios: el "sí" para poner su fe en la completa revelación de Dios de sí mismo en Jesucristo, el Hijo de Dios, que vino a salvarnos de nuestro pecado y a ganarnos la vida eterna. Se ven obligados a reconocer que sus "sí" fueron abiertos: porque ellos no podían prever que la resistencia de tal persecución se exigía de ellos.

         

          Créalo o no, tampoco estamos lejos de esta experiencia. Aunque en este país no estamos sujetos a las persecuciones violentas que enfrentan los cristianos en el Medio Oriente, sin embargo, estamos sufriendo una persecución no menos hostil. En lugar de confrontarnos con la amenaza de la muerte—forzándonos así a renovar nuestro "sí" a Dios o abandonarlo completamente—estamos siendo bombardeados por una cacofonía de confusión, en la que nuestra cultura moderna busca torcer las verdades de modo que ya no existen los absolutos y luego empujan los valores seculares que deben ser aceptados. El rechazo resulta en la persecución: no por ser cristiano, específicamente, sino por ser "intolerante" y "fanático". Nos ha confundido a muchos de nosotros que ya no estamos seguros de lo que hemos dicho "sí". Esta confusión ha trastornado a nuestras familias e incluso ha causado división dentro de ellas.

          Por lo tanto, mis hermanos y hermanas, esta fiesta de hoy nos llama de regreso a nuestro primer "sí": el "sí" que proclamamos en nuestro bautismo (o en nuestra confirmación, si solo éramos infantes en nuestro bautismo). El "sí" para confiar en Dios a través de su Hijo, Jesús. El "sí" para tener fe en su Iglesia, el Cuerpo de Cristo, quiénes somos, y quienes, guiados por el Espíritu Santo, no pueden errar al proporcionarnos claridad en medio de la confusión. Como Abraham y su familia, Sarah e Isaac, y como la Sagrada Familia de Jesús, María y José, y como el Arzobispo Sartain y los cristianos perseguidos en Siria e Irak, debemos recordar que nuestro "sí" nunca fue a una idea, sino a una persona—Jesús, nuestro Salvador—y a su promesa de que, a pesar de las dificultades que podamos enfrentar, no moriremos, sino que tendremos la vida eterna—es decir, la felicidad—para siempre con él en el cielo.

          Por lo tanto, recemos para que la Sagrada Familia guíe a nuestras familias a través de esta noche y a la luz del cumplimiento de las promesas de Dios: las promesas que se cumplen incluso aquí en esta Eucaristía cuando ofrecemos a Emmanuel, Dios con nosotros, de vuelta a él en este altar. Y recibamos el cumplimiento de estas promesas, cuando lo recibamos en la Sagrada Comunión, para que, fortalecidos por él, podamos salir a traer la luz de esta verdad a un mundo oscuro, tan desesperadamente en necesidad de ella.

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

31 de diciembre, 2017

Saying "yes", once and forever

Homily: The Holy Family of Jesus, Mary, and Joseph – Cycle B

          A few years ago, I was invited to a vocations awareness dinner where Archbishop Peter Sartain, was scheduled to speak.  In his talk during that dinner, he spoke of his experience of leaving his home diocese of Memphis to become bishop of the diocese of Little Rock, Arkansas; and then of leaving the diocese of Little Rock for the diocese of Joliet.  He said that, in both cases, he had to hearken back to the day of his ordination as a priest.  He said that he realized that on that day (the day of his ordination) he had said “yes” to God and that this “yes” was open ended.  In other words, he knew that his “yes” was a “yes” for whatever God, through his Church, would call him to do in the future, even if that would move him away from family and his beloved flock.  Thus, although he felt deep sadness to leave his home diocese and then his first diocese as a bishop, he trustingly accepted the call of the Church; for in his heart, he knew that he had already said “yes” to it all on the day of his ordination to the priesthood.

          In our Scriptures today, we encounter another man whose “yes” to God was open-ended, and which took him to places and experiences he never dreamed of.  Abraham (who, initially, was called simply “Abram”) was a man blessed by God and to whom God revealed himself in visions.  God had a plan for Abraham: a plan that would take him far from his native land, with only the vague assurance of prosperity when he arrived.  Abraham placed his faith in God who had revealed himself to him and set out from the land of Ur of the Chaldeans for an unknown land that he was to receive as an inheritance.

          This, of course, not only affected him, but his whole household.  His wife, Sarah, and their entire household (including his livestock) would move with him; and the hardship that they endured throughout the journey was great.  Abraham’s faith was tested—as was his relationship with his wife—but he persevered and settled in the land that God had promised him.

          Having settled in the land that God had promised to him, God promised Abraham prosperity and protection.  Abraham, however, questioned God’s promise: asking “What good will your gifts be if I keep on being childless?”  You see, these ancient peoples had not yet developed the notion of the immortal soul and so they believed that “eternal life” came from having children, in which your name—and, thus, your heritage—lived on.  Abraham didn’t want material prosperity; rather, he wanted eternal life.  Thus, God would make another promise: the promise of descendents more numerous than the stars in the sky. /// It would be many years, however, before God would fulfill this promise and grant to Abraham and his wife Sarah a son.  This was another test of Abraham’s faith: a test that, once again, affected his whole family.

          As difficult as this test might have been, there would still be one final test for Abraham.  After fulfilling his promise to give Abraham an heir, God then calls Abraham to offer his son Isaac back to him as a sacrifice.  At this point, I imagine that Abraham felt like he had had enough; and I imagine that he had to pray long and hard about whether or not he should obey.  In the end, I imagine that he thought back to that first revelation that God had given to him back in his homeland of Ur of the Chaldeans.  I imagine that he looked to that first “yes” that he had given to God and then realized that, to say “no” now, would be to negate all of the blessings that he had received by saying “yes” to everything that had come before.  In other words, he knew that his first “yes” was an open-ended one: a yes not only to God’s first command to leave his land for a land unknown to him, but also to everything that would come after; and so he said “yes” to God once again and brought his son to be offered as a sacrifice to him. /// We, of course, know the rest of this story: that God stopped Abraham from completing the sacrifice and, as the Letter to the Hebrews relates, Abraham “received Isaac back” and with it the promise of a family of innumerable descendants.

          The Holy Family of Jesus, Mary, and Joseph is also a family whose life was affected by an open-ended “yes” by its members.  Mary was confronted by the archangel Gabriel, who appeared to her and announced God’s incredible plan for her life.  She, however, had made a secret consecration of virginity to God and so could not comprehend how it would be possible for her to conceive the child that the angel was promising to her.  Nevertheless, she trusted in God and said “yes”: a “yes” to which she would have to return over and over again as more revelations would be made to her about who her son would be and the difficulties that he would face (and the difficulties that she would face through him)—revelations such as the one she received from the Temple prophet, Simeon.

          Joseph, too, would have to say “yes” to an angel—the one that appeared to him in a dream.  When he found that his supposedly virgin wife had become pregnant before they had consummated their marriage, he had decided to divorce her, because, as the Scriptures tell us, he was a righteous man and that was what the Mosaic Law demanded.  He, too, however, trusted in God and said “yes”: a “yes” to which he, too, would have to return in the future—such as when he was forced to flee with his family into Egypt to avoid Herod’s persecution.  His and Mary’s “yeses” to God were open-ended.  They could not foresee all that these “yeses” would demand of them, yet they trusted in God and gave them anyway; and for this, they have already received their reward.

          To this day, faithful families in the land of Abraham, Sarah, and Isaac—of Jesus, Mary, and Joseph—find themselves in similarly difficult situations.  Christians throughout the Middle East, and especially today in Syria and Iraq, are being severely persecuted by highly-organized religious extremists and they are being forced to face their “yes” that they had given to God: the “yes” to put their faith in God’s complete revelation of himself in Jesus Christ, the Son of God, who came to save us from our sin and to win for us eternal life.  They are being forced to acknowledge that their “yeses” were open-ended ones: for they could not foresee that the endurance of such persecution would be demanded of them.

          Believe it or not, we are not far from this experience, either.  Although we in this country are not subject to the violent persecutions that Christians are facing in the Middle East, we are, nonetheless, suffering from a persecution no less hostile.  Instead of confronting us with the threat of death—thus forcing us to renew our “yes” to God or to abandon it all together—we are being bombarded by a cacophony of confusion, in which our modern culture seeks to twist truths so that there are no longer absolutes and then push forward secular values which must be accepted.  Refusal results in persecution: not for being Christian, per se, but rather for being “intolerant” and “bigoted”.  It has so many of us confused that we’re not sure what we’ve said “yes” to, anymore.  This confusion has disrupted our families and has even caused division within them.

          Therefore, my brothers and sisters, this feast today is calling us back to our first “yes”: the “yes” that we proclaimed at our baptism (or at our confirmation, if we were only infants at our baptism).  The “yes” to trust in God through his Son, Jesus.  The “yes” to have faith in his Church, the Body of Christ, who we are, and who, guided by the Holy Spirit, cannot err to provide for us clarity in the midst of confusion.  Like Abraham and his family, Sarah and Isaac, and like the Holy Family of Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, and like Archbishop Sartain and the persecuted Christians in Syria and Iraq, we must remember that our “yes” was never to an idea, but to a person—Jesus, our Savior—and to his promise that, in spite of whatever difficulties we might face, we will not die, but rather will have eternal life—that is, happiness—forever with him in heaven.  God is calling us today to put our faith in his promises: the promises that are fulfilled even here in this Eucharist as we offer Emmanuel, God with us, back to him on this altar.  Come, then, let us receive the fulfillment of these promises, so that, strengthened by them, we may go forth to bring the light of this truth to a dark world, so desperately in need of it.

          And let us pray that the Holy Family may guide our families through this night and into the light of the fulfillment of God’s promises; and thus go forward in faith: for our God, who alone has the power to save us, is trustworthy.  He has promised and he will do it.  Amen.  Alleluia!

Given at Saint Anne’s Parish: Monterrey, IN & Saint Ann’s Parish: Kewanna, IN

December 30^th, 2017

Given at All Saints Parish: Logansport, IN

December 31^st, 2017

Obedience makes us powerful

Homily: 2^nd Sunday in Lent – Cycle A

          Last week, as we celebrated the 1^st Sunday in Lent, I reflected on how the readings for the day seemed to indicate that God was asking us to enter into a 12-step addiction recover program this Lent.  I reflected how the journey through Lent can be like a journey through a 12-step program, as we acknowledge that we have sinned and have fallen short of all that God expects of us, that we, by ourselves, are powerless to overcome our sinfulness, and that we must give ourselves completely to the will of God (and his mercy)—particularly through the sacrament of reconciliation and the renewal of our baptismal promises at Easter—so that we can break free from the bonds of sin.  I noted how this last part is truly the key: that to hand over your will to one who is more powerful (and so, wise), yet loving—and to be completely obedient to him—actually leads to freedom, not greater slavery.

          In the Scriptures last week we saw this play out as the disobedience of our first parents (Adam and Eve) led them into the bondage of sin, while the obedience of Christ (as evidenced by his unwillingness to give into the temptations the devil presented to him) left him free and blameless before his Father.  This week, we once again encounter this theme of obedience in the Scriptures.  In the first reading, God commands Abraham to move from his native place to a land he doesn’t know based simply on a promise that God will give him blessings beyond his wildest dreams.  In the Gospel, we read how, at the transfiguration, Peter, James, and John hear God's voice identifying Jesus and commanding them "Listen to him".  This "listening" is much more than "hearing”.  Rather, it is a "listening" that results in "doing", which is obedience.  And so, in this way, it's like God is saying "This is my beloved Son … be obedient to him."

          But “obedience” often carries with it a negative connotation, right?  The common definition that many of us might give to obedience is “being subservient to the will of another”.  In this definition, obedience seems negative as it is often associated with one person’s domination over another.  Slaves and other servants are “obedient” to their masters, just as good children are “obedient” to their parents, grandparents, teachers, etc.

          The word obedience, however, comes from the Latin verb oboedire, which translates literally to mean “to listen towards” something, like when you lean in to listen because you value what is being said.  In this definition, obedience, implies a relationship between the one who speaks and the one who hears.  This is an affectionate relationship, since one would not “lean in” to listen to someone who he or she didn’t think had concern for him or her in return.  And so we see that obedience involves a level of intimacy between the one who speaks and the one who hears.  In a very real way, therefore, obedience, if it is true, is really an act of love.

          Given this, let’s think about Abraham’s obedience for a second.  If we take the reading literally (which can be a little dangerous to do), we see that Abraham didn’t say anything to God as God told him what to do and what he would give him for doing it.  Abraham’s response (“Abram went as the Lord directed him”, the Scripture says) would be crazy if he didn’t already have a relationship with God and knew his voice.  And so we must assume that he did have a relationship with God and that Abraham already trusted him to be a loving Father, who wouldn’t give him a rock when he asked for an egg or a scorpion when he asked for a fish.  With this loving relationship, therefore, it was easy for him to obey, even when that meant that he would suffer some hardships because of it.

          The apostles, too, would find that, because they spent three years with Jesus while he taught about the kingdom of God and worked miracles to demonstrate that it, indeed, had come to fulfillment in him, it would be easy to “listen to him”, because they already had a relationship with him and they knew him to be a loving master: more like a brother, than a boss.  Thus, they could give him their full obedience and not fear that they would ever be led astray.  Their obedience was not servitude, but truly was an act of love.

          Well, okay, Father, if obedience is love, then why is it so hard?  Well, perhaps it’s because we haven’t correctly understood love, either.  The love that we speak of here is so much more than affection (that is, good feelings for another person).  Rather, the love we are talking about here is the willing of the good (that is, happiness) for another: even if there is no reward (and, perhaps, even suffering) for yourself.  Obedience, therefore, often involves self-sacrifice.  This component of self-sacrifice is why we often view it as being slave-like.  We think, “I have to give up what I want in order for that other person to get what he or she wants.”  But true love doesn’t count the cost—it doesn’t count what I lose so that the other can receive something good.  This is why Jesus could say “No one has greater love than this; to lay down one’s life for one’s friends”.  And this is why Saint Paul, in our second reading, could remind Saint Timothy to “bear your share of hardship for the gospel”, because love sometimes asks us to bear hardships.  Obedience, therefore, willfully given, is really an act of love; and most especially when it involves some sacrifice of one’s self.

          Former farmer and US Secretary of Agriculture Ezra Taft Benson once said that “When obedience ceases to be an irritant and becomes our quest, in that moment God will endow us with power.”  Jesus is the Father’s “beloved Son” firstly because he was obedient.  Thus, the power on display in the transfiguration is the power that is available to us who seek to follow our Lord’s example of obedience.

          And so, my brothers and sisters, let us acknowledge that Lent calls us back to obedience; which means, then, that we are called to restore our relationship with God the Father through Christ Jesus.  And so, let us not spend this time of Lent in works that won’t draw us closer to God.  Rather, let’s engage works that lead us first to acknowledge our need for repentance (and, therefore, our need for God) and that help us, then, to submit our wills completely to his, because he has never proven to be anything but a loving Father who cares for us.  Because, when we do, we will see the power of the blessings that Jesus has won for us made manifest in our lives; the power that comes through true obedience; the power that comes to us here in this Holy Eucharist.

Given at All Saints Parish: Logansport, IN – March 11^th & 12^th, 2017

De hospedar angeles

Homilía: 16º Domingo en Tiempo Ordinario – Ciclo C

          Escritor, editor y reformador social Dorotea Day nació el 8 de noviembre de 1897, en la ciudad de Nueva York. Era el tercero de los cinco hijos de sus padres, Gracia y Juan. Su padre trabajaba como periodista. Debido a esto, la familia se trasladó a California cuando Dorotea tenía seis años. Más tarde, sin embargo, que vivirían en Chicago.

          Un estudiante inteligente, Dorotea fue aceptado en la Universidad de Illinois. Ella estaba inscrito desde 1914 hasta 1916, pero abandonó sus estudios para trasladarse a la ciudad de Nueva York. Allí, ella se involucró con un grupo literario y liberal. Ella trabajó como periodista, escribiendo para varias publicaciones socialistas y progresistas de la décadas de 1910 y 20. Socialmente y políticamente activa, Dorotea fue detenida en varias ocasiones por su participación en las protestas. En 1917 se inició una huelga de hambre después de haber sido encarcelado por protestar frente a la Casa Blanca como parte de un esfuerzo por asegurar el derecho al voto para las mujeres.

          En su vida personal, Dorotea experimentó turbulencias. Después de un par de relaciones fallidas, una de las cuales la llevó a procurar un aborto, ella entró en una unión de hecho con Forster Batterham, un biólogo y un anarquista. Se dio a luz a una hija llamada Tamar Teresa, pero la decisión de Dorotea de bautizar la niña en la iglesia católica causó a su marido anarquista para salir de ella. Fue esta decisión, sin embargo, que la inició en el camino a su despertamiento espiritual; y, a finales de 1927, se convirtió al catolicismo.

          En 1932, Dorotea conoció a Pedro Maurin, un inmigrante francés y ex Hermano de La Salle. Al año siguiente, fundaron el Trabajador Católico, un periódico que promueve las enseñanzas católicas y examinó las cuestiones sociales. La publicación se convirtió en un gran éxito y dio lugar al Movimiento del Trabajador Católico, con arreglo a sus principios religiosos para abordar los problemas de la justicia social. Como parte de la creencia del movimiento en la hospitalidad radical, Dorotea ayudó a establecer casas especiales para ayudar a los necesitados. La influencia de Pedro Maurin es evidente en este caso ya que a menudo se cita la carta a los Hebreos, capítulo trece, versículo dos, que dice: "No se olviden de mostrar hospitalidad, porque por ella algunos, sin saberlo, hospedaron ángeles."

          Dorotea se encendería hacer muchas más cosas en su vida, pero, a pesar de todo, su insistencia en la conformidad radical al Evangelio—no sólo en palabras, sino en acciones concretas, también—era una constante. Por lo tanto, su causa de canonización ha sido aceptada por el Vaticano y que ha recibido el título de "Siervo de Dios".

          La hospitalidad era un valor importante entre la gente del Medio Oriente Antiguo y en nuestras lecturas de la Escritura de hoy vemos la verdad de lo que el autor de la Carta a los Hebreos estaba hablando. En la lectura del libro de Génesis que describe cómo el Señor se apareció a Abraham como tres hombres que parecen estar en un viaje. Aparecieron en la parte más caliente del día, cuando el viaje del día sería más difícil. Al verlos, Abraham salta a la acción: no sólo les ofrece algo de alivio al calor del día, pero en lugar insistiendo con ellos que le permiten mostrarles este acto de hospitalidad. No les conocía, y su primera reacción no fue sospecha, sino más bien generosa hospitalidad. Como resultado, era hospedando ángeles: los verdaderos mensajeros del Señor, que luego le dio una buena noticia; que su esposa, Sara, a quien todos habían pensado que era estéril debido a su avanzada edad, daría a luz a un hijo dentro de un año.

          En nuestra lectura del Evangelio, leemos que Jesús, al entrar en un pueblo, fue recibido por Marta. No dice que Marta fue la primera en ofrecer hospitalidad, pero supongo que podríamos asumir este puesto que las reglas de etiqueta requieren que se acepta la primera oferta que se nos da. Allí, al igual que Abraham hizo por los mensajeros del Señor, Marta se ocupó de preparar los alimentos y refrescos para Jesús y sus discípulos. Pensando que era grosero que su hermana María no estaba tan ocupada con tratar de servir a sus invitados, le pide a Jesús que reprochar ella para que dé vergüenza y empezar a ayudar con el servicio. Jesús, sin embargo, le recuerda a Marta que, aunque que sirve es una buena cosa, no es tan importante como reconocer quién es el que está en medio de ti, porque cuando lo hace, es posible que encontrará que usted era hospedando a los ángeles (o, en este caso, el Hijo de Dios) y que esos ángeles pueden estar preparados para aportar una buena noticia.

          Mis hermanos y hermanas, al reflexionar sobre los actos de alto perfil de violencia que se han ido sucediendo, más recientemente, el horrible ataque contra la vida inocente que pasó en Niza, Francia, el jueves pasado, estoy convencido de que una de las causas fundamentales de este violencia es una pérdida de este valor de la hospitalidad. Esto se debe a que, al ser radicalmente hospitalario, uno tiene que reconocer la dignidad y el valor inherente de cada persona, independientemente de si son o no son conocidos por ti. Cuando miramos a los demás con la sospecha, en lugar de correr a su servicio, como Abraham y Marta hizo, y al igual que Dorotea Day hizo, que nos pone a pensar que se trata de "nosotros contra ellos"; y si se trata de "nosotros contra ellos", entonces sus vidas se convierten automáticamente en menos valioso para nosotros; que a su vez hace que sea posible hacerles daño para nuestra ventaja, en lugar de servir a ellos para la suya.

          Amigos, si queremos ver un cambio real en este mundo, entonces tenemos que empezar aquí en nuestras familias y en nuestra comunidad, cambiando la mentalidad dominante de "nosotros contra ellos" a "nosotros para ellos". Debemos comenzar, sin embargo, donde María, la hermana de Marta, hizo—sentado a los pies de Jesús escuchando hablar a él—porque él será nuestra roca sólida que nos apoyan mientras servimos y el ángel cuyo rostro veremos en los rostros de aquellos a quien servimos. Por lo tanto, hagamos eso nuestra tarea esta semana a abrir el corazón un poco más a Jesús, dándole más tiempo a la oración y nuestras vidas a él mediante la práctica de una mayor hospitalidad a todos los que nos encontramos. Porque al hacerlo, podemos encontrar que nosotros, también, "sin saberlo, hospedamos ángeles".

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

17 de julio, 2016

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"La fuerza de un Angel" es una buena pelicula sobre Dorotea Day.