Nuestra vocacion al mundo

 Homilía: 25º Domingo en el Tiempo Ordinario – Ciclo C

          Aproximadamente a la mitad de mi tiempo en el seminario, tomé un retiro en silencio en una casa de retiro administrada por las Hermanas Ursulinas cerca de Owensboro, Kentucky. Su casa estaba fuera de la ciudad, justo al lado de un rancho. Era el comienzo de la primavera y las temperaturas frescas seguían siendo la norma. No obstante, me propuse salir todos los días y caminar. En ese momento, estaba luchando con mi sentido de llamado al sacerdocio, así que pasé mucho tiempo en ese retiro orando para saber si el sacerdocio era la vocación a la que Dios me estaba llamando.

          Parte del rancho al lado de la casa de retiro era pastura para vacas y recuerdo sentarme y observar las vacas cerca del final de un día en particular y pensar que esta vida estresante de preparación para una vida estresante de ministerio era para las aves. Anhelaba una vida más sencilla, como la que me imagino podría encontrar en un rancho, en la que mi trabajo diario estuviera definido y pudiera hacer un día de trabajo honesto, todos los días, y regresar a casa en paz y tranquilidad.

          Me convencí de esta idea y decidí hablar de ello con mi director espiritual para el retiro. Era uno de los monjes del seminario, el Padre Guerric. Padre Guerric es originario de Nueva York y su acento lo demuestra. También tiene una manera “Nueva York” de decirte lo que piensa: lo que significa, directo a tu cara. Así, cuando le revelé que me estaba convenciendo de que mi llamado no era una vida de ministerio, sino una vida de trabajo sencillo y sencillez tranquila, su respuesta fue... cómo decirlo... directa. “¡Oh, supérate, Dominic! ¡Eso no es lo que Dios te ha llamado a hacer!” Esta fue su respuesta. Podía ver a través de mi noción demasiado romántica: principalmente porque implicaba renunciar al mundo; y sabía que una verdadera vocación nunca es la que lleva a alguien a renunciar al mundo, sino la que lleva a alguien a entregarse más plenamente por el mundo. Mi frustración al tratar con el mundo, por lo tanto, no era señal de que estuviera equivocado acerca de mi vocación; sino más bien era una buena señal de que estaba en el camino correcto. ///

          En nuestra lectura del Evangelio de hoy, Jesús presenta una parábola un tanto inquietante. Allí, un hombre (que hoy en día podríamos llamar un “administrador de bienes personales”) está a punto de ser despedido por no hacer bien su trabajo. Esto le causa una gran consternación, por supuesto, ya que se da cuenta de que está a punto de perder su sustento y quedarse en el trasero. Sabe que el trabajo manual no es para él y por eso idea un plan: “Haré favores con los deudores de mi amo para que uno de ellos me acoja una vez que esté sin hogar y así no tenga que recurrir a trabajo manual." Surgen dos grandes ironías: 1) el mal administrador de repente muestra talento y la capacidad de negociar un trato ventajoso tan pronto como su sustento está en peligro, y 2) el amo, que está listo para despedirlo, en realidad lo elogia por su astucia. En ambos, Jesús parece estar presentando esto de tal manera que muestra a este administrador bajo una luz favorable. Naturalmente, nuestras mentes se rebelan automáticamente contra la idea de elogiar a alguien que es deshonesto, por lo que surge la pregunta: ¿cuál es el punto?

          El punto que Jesús parece estar tratando de transmitir a sus discípulos es que deben aprender a ser astutos en sus tratos con el mundo. Jesús sabía que sus discípulos serían enviados a proclamar este mensaje evangélico en la vida cotidiana de la sociedad; y que, si no fueran astutos en el trato con el mundo, entonces serían ineficaces y, por tanto, fracasarían en su misión. Porque incluso los que son deshonestos se muestran astutos en el trato con el mundo, como lo fue el administrador deshonesto, y así obtienen ventajas. De hecho, en los primeros siglos de la Iglesia, las sectas llamadas “gnósticas” promovían que el fin de la vida era la “iluminación mental”, a partir de la cual ya no era necesario tratar con el mundo: porque, a través de la iluminación, se estaría viviendo en un plano "superior". Sin embargo, la enseñanza de Jesús contradice esto rotundamente cuando dice: “Con el dinero, tan lleno de injusticias, gánense amigos”, es decir, “traten con astucia a este mundo y sus riquezas”. En otras palabras, es como si Jesús estuviera diciendo: “No los llamo a salir del mundo, sino a salir a él, tratándolo con prudencia, por supuesto, pero tratándolo, sin embargo, para traer este mensaje de salvación a todos los pueblos”.

          Hermanos, debemos recordar que el cristianismo es una religión: lo que significa que, en parte, es una forma de vivir e interactuar con el mundo. Esto a diferencia de un culto: que normalmente exige que las personas se separen del mundo y de interactuar con él. Debido a esto, debemos prestar atención a las palabras de Jesús y no tratar de alejarnos del mundo (como traté de hacer durante ese retiro, hace trece años), sino más bien involucrarnos con el mundo y tratarlo con astucia.

          Esto es lo que hace por nosotros el plan pastoral del obispo Doherty, Unidos de Corazón. Como diócesis, nos proporciona una hoja de ruta sobre cómo ser más astutos en la forma en que nuestras parroquias viven e interactúan con el mundo, lo que nos permitirá ser más efectivos en el cumplimiento de nuestra misión de proclamar la Buena Nueva de la vida eterna a través de Jesús.

          Mis hermanos y hermanas, Jesús, el Amo, nos está llamando a ser buenos administradores de su casa, la Iglesia. La parábola del administrador deshonesto es una advertencia y un desafío: una advertencia para no volvernos perezosos en nuestra administración y arriesgarnos a perder nuestra posición por completo, y un desafío, por lo tanto, para actuar con astucia en el mundo, mientras estemos en él, para edificar la Iglesia y preparar la venida de nuestro Amo (y la cuenta a la que nos llamará cuando venga). El plan Unidos de Corazón es una oportunidad para que renovemos y fortalezcamos nuestra administración de la casa de Dios; así que espero que todos continúen apoyando a su pastor [inserte el nombre del pastor aquí] y el plan de visión pastoral de su pastorado para que el plan se haga realidad para Cristo y su Iglesia.

          Es cierto lo que decía San Pablo en su carta a Timoteo, que “Dios quiere que todos los hombres se salven y todos lleguen al conocimiento de la verdad”. Por tanto, fortalecidos por esta Eucaristía, asumamos esta buena obra para que cada vez más hombres y mujeres puedan llegar a conocer a Cristo y su salvación; y para que también nosotros podamos estar bien preparados para entrar en las moradas eternas que Cristo, nuestro Salvador, nos ha preparado.

Dado en la parroquia de San Pablo: Marion, IN – 17 de septiembre, 2022

Dado en la parroquia de San Jose: Delphi, IN y la parroquia de Nuestra Señora del Carmen: Carmel, IN – 18 de septiembre, 2022

Our vocation to the world

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

About halfway through my time in seminary, I took a silent retreat at a retreat house run by the Ursaline Sisters near Owensboro, Kentucky.  Their house was outside of the city, right next to a farm.  It was early spring and so cool temperatures were still the norm.  Nonetheless, I made it a point to go outside each day and walk.  At that time, I was struggling with my sense of calling to the priesthood and so I spent a lot of time on that retreat praying about whether priesthood was the vocation to which God was calling me.

Part of the farm next to the retreat house was cow pasture and I remember sitting and watching the cows near the end of one particular day and thinking that this stressful life of preparing for a stressful life of ministry was for the birds.  I longed for a more simple life—like one I imagine I could find on a farm—in which my daily work would be defined and I could put in an honest day of work, every day, and return home to peace and tranquility.

I became convicted by this idea and so decided to speak about it to my spiritual director for the retreat.  He was one of the monks from the seminary, Fr. Guerric.  Fr. Guerric is originally from the New York and his accent shows it.  He also has a great “New York” way of telling you what he thinks: which means, straight to your face.  Thus, when I revealed to him that I was becoming convinced that a life of ministry wasn’t my call, but rather a life of simple labor and quiet simplicity, his response was... how should I say it... direct.  “Oh, get over yourself, Dominic! That is not what God has called you to do!” This was his response.  He could see straight through my over-romantic notion: primarily because it involved giving up on the world; and he knew that a true vocation is never one that leads someone to give up on the world, but rather one that leads someone to give him/herself more fully for the world.  My frustration with dealing with the world, therefore, was no sign that I was wrong about my vocation; but rather a good sign that I was on the right path. ///

In our Gospel reading today, Jesus presents a somewhat troubling parable.  There a household steward (today we might call this person a “personal asset manager”) is about to be fired for not doing his job well.  This causes him great consternation, of course, since he realizes that he’s about to lose his livelihood and be out on his rear end.  He knows that manual labor is not for him and so he devises a plan: “I’ll garner favors with my master’s debtors so that one of them will take me in once I’m homeless and so I won’t have to resort to manual labor.”  Two great ironies emerge: 1) the bad steward suddenly shows talent and the ability to work an advantageous deal as soon as his meal ticket is on the line, and 2) the master, who is ready to fire him, actually commends him for his shrewdness.  In both, Jesus seems to be presenting this in such a way as to show this steward in a favorable light.  Naturally, our minds automatically rebel against the idea of commending someone who is dishonest, so it begs the question: what is the point?

The point that Jesus seems to be trying to make to his disciples is that they must learn to be shrewd in their dealings with the world.  Jesus knew that his disciples would be sent out to proclaim this Gospel message in the everyday life of society; and that, if they weren’t shrewd in dealing with the world, then they would be ineffective and, thus, fail in their mission.  For even those who are dishonest show themselves to be shrewd in dealing with the world, as the dishonest steward was, and so gain advantages.  In fact, in the early centuries of the Church, sects called “gnostics” promoted that the goal of life was “mental enlightenment”, after which one no longer needed to deal with the world: because, through enlightenment, they would be living on a “higher” plane.  Jesus’ teaching squarely contradicts this, however, when he says, “Make friends for yourselves with dishonest wealth”, meaning, “Deal shrewdly with this world and its riches”.  In other words, it’s as if Jesus is saying, “I am not calling you to remove yourselves from the world, but rather to go out into it—dealing with it prudently, of course, yet nonetheless dealing with it—so as to bring this message of salvation to all peoples.”

Friends, we have to remember that Christianity is a religion: which means that, in part, it is a way of living in and interacting with the world.  This as opposed to a cult: which typically demands that people separate themselves from the world and from interacting with it.  Because of this, we need to heed Jesus’ words and not try to pull back from the world (as I tried to do during that retreat, thirteen years ago), but rather to engage the world and deal shrewdly with it.  This is Bishop Doherty’s pastoral Plan, Uniting In Heart, does for us.  As a diocese, it provides us with a roadmap of how to be more shrewd in how our parishes live in and interact with the world, which will allow us to be more effective in fulfilling our mission to proclaim the Good News of eternal life through Jesus.

My brothers and sisters, Jesus, the Master, is calling us to be good stewards of his household, the Church.  The parable of the dishonest steward is a warning and a challenge: a warning not to become lazy in our stewardship and risk losing our position all together, and a challenge, thus, to deal shrewdly in the world, while we are in it, so as to build up the Church and to prepare for our Master’s coming (and for the accounting to which he will call us when he comes).  The Uniting In Heart plan is a chance for us to renew and strengthen our stewardship of God’s household; and so I hope that you will all continue to support your pastor [insert pastor’s name here] and the pastoral vision plan of your pastorate so to see it come to fruition for Christ and his Church.

It is true what Saint Paul said in his letter to Timothy, that “God wills everyone to be saved and to come to knowledge of the truth.”  Therefore, strengthened by this Eucharist, let us take up this good work so that more and more men and women can come to know Christ and his salvation; and so that we, too, can be well prepared to enter the “eternal dwellings” that Christ, our Savior, has prepared for us.

Given in Spanish at St. Paul Parish: Marion, IN – September 17^th, 2022

Given in Spanish at St. Joseph Parish: Delphi, IN and Our Lady of Mt. Carmel Parish: Carmel, IN – September 18^th, 2022

A time of mercy

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

         A few years ago, a man approached me to ask a question that was burning in his heart.  It was a very earnest question and so I remember it clearly.  He asked, “Father, taking a look at everything that is going on in the world, is there any hope? Or have we already lost the world?”  At first, I was struck by his questioning of whether there was hope and so I immediately responded, “Yes, of course there is hope! God hasn’t changed. He is still the all-powerful Lord of the universe. And nothing has changed about Jesus, his Son, who saved us from sin and death by his own death and resurrection.”  To this, the man nodded in agreement as if he already knew the answer.  Thus, he revealed that it was the second part of his question to which he seemed to need an answer.  “Doesn’t it seem as if we have lost the world to the forces of darkness and evil?”  This answer, I found, was not as straightforward.

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

         It’s true, isn’t it, that God’s anger should be blazing against us because of rampant sin in our world, especially by those who call themselves “Christians”?  We’ve offended him, time and again.  But look around; it doesn’t seem like anything resembling God’s anger is working around us, does it?  Has anyone here seen balls of burning fire fall from the sky?  No, of course not.  Thus, God’s final wrath hasn’t come upon us.  Rather, what we’ve been given is a time of mercy.  Our scriptures today reveal to us that this has been God’s pattern from the beginning.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Given in Spanish at Our Lady of the Lakes Parish: Monticello, IN and Our Lady of Mt. Carmel Parish: Carmel, IN – September 11^th, 2022

Un tiempo de misericordia

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

         Hace unos años, un hombre se me acercó para hacerme una pregunta que ardía en su corazón. Era una pregunta muy seria y por eso la recuerdo claramente. Él preguntó: “Padre, echando un vistazo a todo lo que está pasando en el mundo, ¿hay alguna esperanza? ¿O ya hemos perdido el mundo? Al principio, me llamó la atención que me cuestionara si había esperanza, así que inmediatamente respondí: “¡Sí, por supuesto que hay esperanza! Dios no ha cambiado. Él sigue siendo el Señor todopoderoso del universo. Y nada ha cambiado en Jesús, su Hijo, quien nos salvó del pecado y de la muerte por su propia muerte y resurrección”. A esto, el hombre asintió con la cabeza como si ya supiera la respuesta. Así, reveló que era la segunda parte de su pregunta a la que parecía necesitar una respuesta. "¿No parece como si hubiéramos perdido el mundo ante las fuerzas de la oscuridad y el mal?" Esta respuesta, encontré, no era tan directa.

         Me preguntaba, tal vez, si estaba preocupado por el juicio final y por verse atrapado en el desencadenamiento final de la ira de Dios sobre la raza humana debido a su creciente desprecio por los mandamientos de Dios. Traté de asegurarle que sus sentimientos eran una señal de que este es un tiempo de acción: un tiempo en el que las personas de fe deben tener la intención de compartir las Buenas Nuevas de Jesús tanto en palabra como en acción. Le aseguré que ahora es un tiempo de misericordia, pero solo si tomamos acción.

         ¿No es cierto que la ira de Dios debería estar ardiendo contra nosotros debido al pecado desenfrenado en nuestro mundo, especialmente por parte de aquellos que se llaman a sí mismos “cristianos”? Lo hemos ofendido, una y otra vez. Pero mira a tu alrededor; no parece que algo parecido a la ira de Dios esté obrando a nuestro alrededor, ¿verdad? ¿Alguien aquí ha visto bolas de fuego ardiente caer del cielo? No claro que no. Por lo tanto, la ira final de Dios no ha venido sobre nosotros. Más bien, lo que se nos ha dado es un tiempo de misericordia. Nuestras escrituras de hoy nos revelan que este ha sido el diseño de Dios desde el principio.

         En la primera lectura, escuchamos acerca de Moisés, actuando como un tipo de Cristo, que intercede ante Dios en favor del pueblo israelita para apartar de ellos la ira de Dios. El pueblo ha fabricado un ídolo al que han estado adorando: una ofensa tan grave que Dios quiere ejecutarles a ellos inmediatamente. Moisés, resistiendo la oferta de Dios de tener una nación de gente hecha para él, invoca las promesas que Dios hizo a los antepasados justos del pueblo, diciendo, en efecto, “Aunque este pueblo no merece tu misericordia, por favor dásela por amor a Abraham, Isaac e Israel.” Ante esto, Dios se arrepiente y otorga su misericordia al pueblo que merecía su justo juicio.

         En la segunda lectura, escuchamos a San Pablo, quien escribió su gratitud por haber sido “considerado digno de confianza” para ser un ministro del Evangelio. Reconoció que, por sus acciones como perseguidor de los cristianos, merecía toda la ira de Dios; sino que “Dios tuvo misericordia” de él; y no sólo para su beneficio, sino más bien para el beneficio del Evangelio: que, al tratar a Pablo con misericordia, Dios probaría que ningún pecado es demasiado grande para su misericordia.

         Luego, en el Evangelio, escuchamos tres parábolas que usó Jesús para ilustrar cuán extensa es la misericordia de Dios hacia nosotros. En ellos, Jesús nos enseña que Dios no permite que nos perdamos. El pastor, que arriesga su propia vida (y la vida de las noventa y nueve ovejas que no se descarriaron) para encontrar la única oveja que se había perdido, y la mujer, que revuelve toda su casa para encontrar la única moneda a pesar de que tenía otros nueve, son ilustraciones de cómo Dios persigue obstinadamente a cualquiera de nosotros que nos hayamos alejado de él. El padre que a diario espera con ansiosa anticipación que su hijo pródigo regrese a casa, y que lo recibe con gozo y celebración cuando lo hace, es una ilustración de la voluntad “pródiga” de Dios de ignorar nuestro pasado cuando nos alejamos de él y volvemos a él para que no nos perdamos para siempre en la oscuridad, sino que vivamos para siempre con él en la luz de la gracia.

         Pero no son solo las escrituras las que confirman que este es un tiempo de misericordia de Dios. Más bien, ha habido muchos eventos en el siglo pasado que también demuestran esto. Las apariciones de María en Fátima en Portugal en las que llamó al mundo al arrepentimiento y a los actos de reparación de los pecados para evitar las tragedias que estaban por venir. Las revelaciones místicas de Jesús a Hermana Faustina Kowalska en Polonia en las que le encargó la tarea de fomentar una renovada devoción a la Divina Misericordia. La elección del Papa Juan Pablo II, que hizo posible que el mensaje de Santa Faustina se difundiera por todo el mundo. Y ahora, este Avivamiento Eucarístico Nacional, que nos llama tanto a abrirnos a una experiencia renovada del amor “pródigo” de Dios, derramado sobre nosotros en la Eucaristía, como a compartir ese amor con quienes nos rodean. Todos estos (y más) apuntan a este momento como nuestra oportunidad (quizás nuestra última oportunidad) de arrepentirnos y suplicar la misericordia de Dios antes de que se lleve a cabo su juicio final.

         Los acontecimientos del 11 de septiembre de 2001, que también recordamos hoy, son una señal de que el tiempo de la misericordia es ahora: porque cuando aumenta la violencia como esta en nuestro mundo, aumenta también la necesidad de anunciar la misericordia de Dios al mundo. Mientras recordamos estos trágicos eventos, no permitamos que permanezcan en el ámbito de la lamentación. Más bien, usémoslos para recordarnos nuestra necesidad de actuar: primero convertirnos para que no seamos objeto del justo juicio de Dios, y luego salir y llamar a otros a la conversión y así transformar el mundo.

         Mis hermanos y hermanas, nuestro mundo se ha desviado mucho de Dios, pero nunca es demasiado tarde para regresar. Esto se debe a que las misericordias de Dios no se agotan; más bien, se renuevan cada mañana. Particularmente aquí, en este altar de sacrificio, las misericordias de Dios se renuevan cuando Jesús se hace verdaderamente presente para nosotros. Acerquémonos, pues, con confianza a este trono de gracia y recibamos la misericordia de Dios: Jesús, nuestro Salvador. Entonces, salgamos de aquí para ser instrumentos de la misericordia de Dios, para que el día del juicio sea un día de alegría en el que todos seamos unidos con Dios nuestro Padre para siempre.

Dado en la parroquia de Nuestra Señora de los Lagos: Monticello, IN y en la parroquia de Nuestra Señora del Carmen: Carmel, IN – 11 de septiembre, 2022

¿Hemos dejado nuestras cruces?

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

         Hermanos y hermanas, la semana pasada nos instruyeron en la importancia de la humildad, es decir, la importancia de no pensar demasiado en nosotros mismos y de anteponer el bien de los demás al nuestro. En su enseñanza, Jesús llegó a decir que no debemos hacer favores a nuestra familia, nuestros amigos y vecinos (como organizar una cena lujosa para ellos), ya que incluso este acto generoso puede estar manchado por el orgullo: el orgullo de pensar que aquellos a los que invitaste tendrán una mejor opinión de ti y que quizás algún día te paguen cuando te inviten a una cena que están organizando). A su vez, Jesús enseñó que debemos invitar a los pobres, a los lisiados, a los cojos y a los ciegos–es decir, a los que no tienen prominencia en la sociedad y, por tanto, no tienen capacidad para pagarte—para humillarnos y así almacenar para nosotros tesoro en el cielo.

         Ofrecí al Beato Pier Giorgio Frassati como ejemplo de cómo vivir de esta manera. Aunque provenía de una familia rica que le proporcionó muchas comodidades y a la que amaba mucho, mantuvo una fuerte devoción por los pobres. Aunque era guapo, atlético y tenía una personalidad alegre (y, por lo tanto, tenía muchos amigos con los que le encantaba pasar el tiempo), dedicó gran parte de su tiempo a los pobres. En todas las cosas, vio a los pobres como iguales a su familia, sus amigos y vecinos, por lo que nunca dejó de invitarlos a sus "banquetes".

         Esta semana, escuchamos la enseñanza de Jesús sobre los "costos del discipulado". Nuevamente, usa palabras fuertes que no deben leerse metafóricamente, sino literalmente. Él dice: “Si alguno quiere seguirme y no me prefiere a su padre y a su madre, a su esposa y a sus hijos, a sus hermanos y a sus hermanas, más aún, a sí mismo, no puede ser mi discípulo”.  No preferir (o preferir menos) a los miembros de tu familia, e incluso a ti mismo, va en contra de nuestros más grandes instintos: porque madre y padre, cónyuge e hijos, hermanos y hermanas, y hasta nosotros mismos, son las relaciones más íntimas que tenemos (y, por lo tanto, la fuente de una gran seguridad emocional en nuestras vidas). Por lo tanto, poner nuestra lealtad a Jesús por encima de ellos significa que a veces tendremos que elegir en contra de ellos al tomar decisiones en nuestras vidas, lo que puede crear un conflicto significativo y, tal vez, tribulación en nuestras vidas. Aquí nuevamente, creo que el Beato Pier Giorgio proporciona un ejemplo excelente.

         Como describí la semana pasada, Pier Giorgio se esforzó por ver su devoción por su familia y amigos como igual a su devoción por los pobres. Esto porque su primera devoción fue a Jesús: especialmente a Jesús presente a nosotros en el Santísimo Sacramento. A menudo se levantaba de la cama temprano en la mañana para rezar ante el Santísimo Sacramento o asistir a una Misa temprano para recibir la Sagrada Comunión. A menudo participaba en la “adoración nocturna” (cuando el Santísimo Sacramento está expuesto durante toda la noche para que los fieles puedan “velar” con Jesús, adorándolo mientras el mundo duerme). Pier Giorgio amaba a Jesús sobre todas las cosas, y ese amor de Jesús dirigía cómo amaba a su familia (a la que honraba y amaba sin culpa), a sus amigos y, por supuesto, a los pobres (en quienes encontraba la presencia de Jesús en una manera única).

         Su humildad al servir a los pobres a veces causaba conflictos con su familia, ya que a menudo parecía que estaba siendo descuidadamente negligente con su familia al llegar tarde a las cenas y otros eventos, cuando en realidad su tardanza se debía a su servicio a los pobres (como cuando le dio el dinero del autobús a alguien que lo necesitaba y, por lo tanto, tuvo que correr a su casa). Sin embargo, nunca usó esto como excusa, sino que humildemente llevó la cruz de la vergüenza para que los pobres no fueran despreciados por su causa. Pier Giorgio entendió la enseñanza de Jesús de que tenía que ser devoto de Jesús primero, por encima de todos los demás. Los relatos de su vida demuestran que vivió esta enseñanza. Por lo tanto, seguramente se lo cuenta como discípulo de Jesús, y está a un milagro confirmado de ser declarado "santo". ///

         Las parábolas que usa Jesús después de su enseñanza simplemente enfatizan su enseñanza. Las parábolas enfatizan que uno debe evaluar correctamente el costo de ser un discípulo de Jesús, y contar si uno tiene los recursos, antes de ponerse a ser su discípulo. Dependiendo de las actitudes de su familia, sus amigos y vecinos—tal vez incluso de sus jefes en sus trabajos—vivir como un discípulo de Jesús puede conducirlo a alejarse de ellos (o ellos de ustedes). “Si tu mano te hace pecar”, enseñó Jesús, “córtala”. Ya sea tu mano o tu amigo más cercano (que es como tu mano), ser discípulo de Jesús significa que, si ella te hace pecar (es decir, ser desleal a Jesús), entonces debes cortarla. Este es el costo del discipulado. Aunque Jesús no lo dice directamente aquí, es como si estuviera diciendo que es mejor no convertirte en su discípulo si no crees que puedes pagar el costo, que tratar de convertirte en su discípulo y luego darte cuenta de que no puedes pagar el costo y, por lo tanto, te alejas del discipulado. Lo primero es malo, seguro, pero lo segundo es peor.

         Todos los que estamos aquí, parece seguro decirlo, nos consideramos discípulos de Jesús. Por lo tanto, presumiblemente, cada uno de nosotros ha calculado el costo del discipulado y está listo para pagar su precio—es decir, dar nuestra completa devoción a Jesús—para recibir la recompensa que nos brinda. Quizás, por lo tanto, lo que nuestras escrituras nos invitan a hacer hoy es a pasar tiempo reflexionando sobre si hemos permitido algunas de las cosas "menores" en nuestras vidas—nuestro padre y madre, cónyuge e hijos, hermanos y hermanas, o nosotros mismos (esto es, nuestro trabajo, nuestras posesiones, nuestro orgullo)— si hemos permitido estas cosas para volverse más importante para nosotros que nuestro discipulado de Jesús. En otras palabras, ¿hemos “dejado” algunas de nuestras cruces en los últimos días, meses o años porque parecían ser un peso demasiado pesado para llevar? ¿Jesús nos está pidiendo que carguemos otras cruces? ¿Tenemos miedo o no estamos dispuestos a llevarlos? Estas son cosas sobre las que nuestras escrituras nos llaman a reflexionar en los próximos días. El Beato Pier Giorgio, si alguna vez se encontró vacilando en su devoción, volvió a Jesús en la Misa y en la adoración y siempre encontró la gracia para encender su devoción de nuevo. Quizás en estos próximos días, cada uno de nosotros pueda buscar ese mismo encendido de devoción a Jesús aquí, en la Misa, y en la Adoración Eucarística.

         Hermanos y hermanas, el plan pastoral del obispo Doherty para nuestra diócesis, Unidos en el Corazón, se trata de reavivar esta devoción a Jesús entre todos los fieles de nuestra diócesis, uniéndonos así en Su Corazón una vez más. Este trabajo nos costará mucho, pero la recompensa que Jesús promete vale la pena. Por lo tanto, a medida que continuamos reavivando y haciendo crecer nuestro propio discipulado de Jesús, recordemos que nunca lo hacemos solos. Más bien, comprometámonos en esta obra de renovación como diócesis—es decir, como Cuerpo de Cristo—para que la alegría del Evangelio—la alegría de ser discípulos de Jesús—nos llene: ahora y en la vida eterna.

Dado en la parroquia de San Pablo: Marion, IN – 3 de septiembre, 2022

Dado en la parroquia de San Jose: Delphi, IN y en la parroquia de Nuestra Señora del Carmen: Carmel, IN – 4 de septiembre, 2022

Have we laid down our crosses?

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

         Friends, last week we were instructed in the importance of humility: that is, the importance of not thinking too much of ourselves and of putting the good of others in front of our own.  In his teaching, Jesus went so far as to say that we shouldn’t do favors for our family, friends, and neighbors (like throwing a lavish dinner party for them), since even this generous act can be tainted by pride: the pride of thinking that those you invited will think more highly of you and that you might be repaid by them someday when they invite you to a party that they are throwing).  In turn, Jesus taught that we should invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, and the blind—that is, those who have no prominence in society and, thus, no capacity to repay you—so as to humble ourselves and thus store up for ourselves treasure in heaven.

         I offered Blessed Pier Giorgio Frassati as an example for how to live this way.  Although he came from a rich family who provided him with many comforts and whom he loved dearly, he maintained a strong devotion to the poor.  Although he was handsome, athletic, and had a joyful personality (and, thus, had many friends with whom he loved to spend time), he nonetheless devoted much of his time to the poor.  In all things, he saw the poor as equal to his family, friends, and neighbors and so never failed to invite them to his “banquets”.

         This week, we hear Jesus’ teaching about the “costs of discipleship”.  Again, he uses strong words that should not be read metaphorically, but rather literally.  He says, “If anyone comes to me without hating his father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters, and even his own life, he cannot be my disciple.”  [In English, the word “hate” has come to mean, “to will harm on another”, but in the original Jewish meaning of the word, it has a less-severe connotation: meaning, instead, “to prefer less than another”.  Even still,] to “hate” your family members, and even yourself, goes against our greatest instincts: for mother and father, spouse and children, brothers and sisters, and even our selves, are the most intimate relations that we have (and, thus, the source of great emotional security in our lives).  Thus, to put our fealty to Jesus higher than them means that we will sometimes have to choose against them when making decisions in our lives, which can create significant conflict and, perhaps, turmoil in our lives.  Here again, however, I think that Blessed Pier Giorgio provides an excellent example.

         As I described last week, Pier Giorgio strove to see his devotion to his family and friends as equal to his devotion to the poor.  This was because his first devotion was to Jesus: especially Jesus present to us in the Blessed Sacrament.  He would often rise from bed early in the morning to pray before the Blessed Sacrament or to attend an early Mass in order to receive Holy Communion.  He often participated in “nocturnal adoration” (when the Blessed Sacrament is exposed throughout the night so that the faithful can “stand vigil” with Jesus, adoring him while the world sleeps).  Pier Giorgio loved Jesus above all things, and that love of Jesus directed how he loved his family (whom he honored and loved without fault), his friends, and, of course, the poor (in whom he found the presence of Jesus in a particular way).

         His humility in serving the poor at times caused conflict with his family, as it often looked as though he was being carelessly negligent to his family by being late to dinners and other events, when in fact his tardiness was caused because of his service to the poor (like when he gave up his bus money to someone in need and, thus, had to run to his house instead).  He never used this as an excuse, however, but rather humbly carried the cross of shame so that the poor would not be despised on his account.  Pier Giorgio understood Jesus’ teaching that he had to be devoted to Jesus first, above all others.  The accounts of his life demonstrate that he lived this teaching.  Thus, he is surely counted as Jesus’ disciple, and is one confirmed miracle away from being declared a “saint”. ///

         The parables that Jesus uses following his teaching simply emphasize his teaching.  The parables emphasize that one should correctly assess the cost of being a disciple of Jesus, and to count up whether one has the resources, before setting out to be his disciple.  Depending on the attitudes of your family, friends, and neighbors—perhaps even your bosses in your jobs—living as a disciple of Jesus may direct you to turn away from them (or them from you).  “If your hand causes you to sin,” Jesus taught, “cut it off.”  Whether it is your hand or your closest friend (which is like your hand), being Jesus’ disciple means that, if it (or he/she) causes you to sin (that is, to be disloyal to Jesus), then you must cut it (or him/her) off.  This is the cost of discipleship.  Although Jesus doesn’t say it directly here, it is as if he is saying that it is better not to become his disciple if you don’t think that you can afford the cost, than to try to become his disciple and then realize that you can’t afford the cost and, thus, turn away from discipleship.  The first is bad, for sure, but the second is worse.

         All of us here, it seems safe to say, consider ourselves to be disciples of Jesus.  Thus, presumably, we have each counted the cost of discipleship and are ready to pay its price—that is, to give our full devotion to Jesus—so as to receive the reward that it affords us.  Perhaps, therefore, what our scriptures invite us to do today is to spend time reflecting on whether we have allowed some of the “lesser” things in our lives—our father and mother, spouse and children, brothers and sisters, or our own selves (that is, our work, our possessions, our pride)—to become more important to us than our discipleship of Jesus.  In other words, have we “laid down” some of our crosses in the last days, months, or years because they seemed to be a weight too heavy to bear.  Is Jesus asking us to carry other crosses?  Are we afraid or unwilling to carry them?  These are things that our scriptures call us to reflect upon in these coming days.  Blessed Pier Giorgio, if he ever found himself faltering in his devotion, turned back to Jesus in the Mass and in adoration and always found the grace to kindle his devotion anew.  Perhaps in these next days, each of us can seek that same kindling of devotion to Jesus here, in the Mass, and in Eucharistic Adoration.

         Friends, Bishop Doherty’s pastoral plan for our diocese, Uniting in Heart, is about rekindling this devotion to Jesus among all the faithful of our diocese, thus uniting us in His Heart once again.  This work will cost us much, but the reward that Jesus promises is, of course, worth it.  Thus, as we continue to rekindle and grow our own discipleship of Jesus, let us remember that we never do it alone.  Rather, let us commit ourselves to this work of renewal as a diocese—that is, as the Body of Christ—so that the joy of the Gospel—the joy of being Jesus’ disciple—may fill us: both now and in eternal life.

Given in Spanish at Saint Paul Parish: Marion, IN – September 3^rd, 2022

Given in Spanish at Saint Joseph Parish: Delphi, IN and Our Lady of Mt. Carmel Parish: Carmel, IN – September 4^th, 2022

The call to radical humility

 Homily: 22^nd Sunday in Ordinary Time – Cycle C

Friends, today’s readings call us to think about and attend to the virtue of humility in our lives.  Why humility?  Well, if there’s one thing that we can learn from the first sin, it’s that we can overestimate our ability to comprehend a given situation and its consequences, leading us to bite off more than we can chew (pun intended) and end up in an embarrassing situation or, worse yet, suffering some severe consequences for our actions, as did our first parents in the Garden of Eden.  “Pride goeth before the fall”, the saying goes, and so our Scriptures today call us to humility.

In our reading from the wisdom writings of Ben Sirach, we hear that humility, far from limiting our influence with others and God’s favor of us, will actually increase them.  And if we think about it, this makes sense.  While we often think that those who are proud and who think highly of themselves tend to win the esteem of others, usually this is limited to those whose accomplishments are exceptional; and so, the esteem that they hold is really about their accomplishments more than it is about who they are as persons.  In everyday living, however—that is, in and among the people with whom we interact everyday—we recognize that it is the unassuming person, the humble person, whom we admire most.  This is the person who puts others before him or herself, who doesn’t brag about accomplishments, but rather about the accomplishments of others, and who is always open to being corrected, in spite of the fact that he/she may be well-learned in a particular topic or skill.

And so, it follows that this person is more favored by God.  The one who doesn’t assume he/she knows best, but rather submits to God and his judgments in all things, receives God’s favor.  Just look at the example of Jesus: who, when he was approached by a man who called him “Good Teacher”, turned and said, “Why do you call me good?  Only God is good...”  Although he was God incarnate in human flesh, he knew that, in his human nature, he must not seek the praise of others, but point always to his Father in heaven.  Thus, Saint Paul says, in his famous Canticle, “...because of this, God highly exalted him and bestowed on him the name above every other name...”  ///  The humble person is esteemed by others and finds favor with God.

Then, in the Gospel, we read how Jesus used a dinner party to teach his disciples this lesson about humility.  While he watched the guests jockey for positions of prominence, he probably noticed that a few of them were positioning themselves higher in rank than they really were, trying to make themselves look better.   Jesus knew what we all know: that is, that when you try to exalt yourself, people see right through it and you usually come off worse for it.  But when you accept your place and always try to put others before you, people see that, too, and will usually be generous with you to offer a better place.  If not, you’re no worse for it, since you didn’t risk suffering the consequences of embarrassment (or, possibly, something worse).

Jesus then turns to the host of the dinner—and I love this part—and he instructs him in radical humility.  He says, “when you hold a lunch or dinner, do not invite your friends or your brothers or your relatives or your wealthy neighbors, in case they may invite you back and you have repayment.  Rather, when you hold a banquet, invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, the blind; blessed will you be for their inability to repay you.”  Who of us, right, ever thinks this way?  We all love fellowship with our relatives, friends, and neighbors.  Can it really be that Jesus is telling us never to have them over for dinner?  Well, I think that, since we believe Sacred Scripture to be inspired by the Holy Spirit, we need to take seriously the idea that Jesus may mean this literally (and, of course, that the promise of being repaid at the resurrection is also literally true).  But if we look at it simply as a dichotomy—that is, as either “this” or “that”—then I think we might be thinking too narrowly.

Remember that one of the things that we hold in tension as Christians is the “both/and”.  For example, we believe that Jesus is both God and Man.  We believe that the kingdom of God is both here now and still coming.  And so, when we look at this, while striving to take Jesus for his word, we should look for the “both/and” in the situation.  In other words, is there a way to live his teaching in which we can enjoy the fellowship of close relatives, friends, and neighbors without neglecting the poor, crippled, lame, and blind?  I think that the answer is “yes”, and I’d like to share an example with you to explain why.

Pier Giorgio Frassati was a young man from Turin, Italy, who lived in the early 1900s.  He was the son of an Italian ambassador; and so, needless to say, he came from a prominent family who lived with all of the trappings that a wealthy businessman and ambassador could provide for his family.  Nonetheless, from an early age, Pier Giorgio displayed a great empathy and devotion to the poor.  It was said that once, when he was around 5 years old, a poor mother and her child came to the Frassati home looking for help.  Pier Giorgio noticed that the child didn’t have shoes, so he quickly ran and got a pair of his own shoes to give to the child.  This devotion to the poor continued throughout his adolescence and young adulthood.

Pier Giorgio was a handsome and athletic young man who had a joy-filled personality; and so, he also had many friends and he loved to spend time with them.  Throughout his young life, he sought to balance his devotion to his family, his friends, and to the poor.  The three he saw as equal and so gave himself to them equally (although often imperfectly).  For example, he never left for a trip with his friends (usually a hiking trip in the Italian Alps... he loved climbing!) without first making sure that the poor he knew from the streets of Turin had what they needed.  None but a few of his friends, however—and none of his family—knew of his devoted ministry to the poor.  And so, when he contracted and died from polio in 1925—at just 24 years old—his family and most of his friends were shocked to find throngs of Turin’s poor who came to his funeral to honor this young man who had served them so lovingly.

Pier Giorgio Frassati did not neglect his fellowship with his family, friends, and neighbors during his life.  Yet he nonetheless found a way to invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, and the blind to the banquets that he had prepared.  And he did so humbly: never bragging about all that he did, but rather always striving to do what he could out of gratitude for all that he had received in his life.  As Catholics, we now know him as Blessed Pier Giorgio Frassati, who is just one approved miracle away from being canonized a saint: which would indicate that he, indeed, has been repaid for serving all of those who could not repay him.

My brothers and sisters, there are countless other saints who lived the same way—and some folks here in our own community, I’m sure.  And so, let’s look to Blessed Pier Giorgio and the others to be for us an inspiration to seek how God is asking us to make this humility a deeper, lived reality in our lives.  The fact that all of these examples reveal to us is that it is possible for us to live this way; and, thus, that we cannot expect to receive the reward of the righteous if we do not strive to live it.  And so, let us look today—yes, TODAY—for ways to live this humility more deeply so that we might be more conformed to the model of righteous humility: Jesus Christ—whom we worship in this Eucharist and encounter here at this altar.

Given in Spanish at St. Paul Parish: Marion, IN – August 27^th, 2022

Given in Spanish at Our Lady of the Lakes Parish: Monticello, IN and Our Lady of Mt. Carmel Parish: Carmel, IN – August 28^th, 2022