The vision still has its time

 Homily: 27^th Sunday in Ordinary Time – Cycle C

         On June 24^th of this year, the United States’ Supreme Court overturned the decision in the case “Roe v. Wade”, which established a legal right to acquire an abortion in the United States.  In doing so, the Court made it possible for individual states to make acquiring and/or performing an abortion illegal.  Since then, a number of states have enacted laws to limit the circumstances in which it would be legal to acquire and/or perform an abortion: laws that will save thousands of lives each year. 

         The Catholic Church in the United States celebrates October as “Respect Life Month”, during which we work to raise awareness of the ways in which the dignity of human life is being disrespected and/or disregarded and, thus, strive to inspire individuals to work to restore respect and proper protection for every human life: from the zygote in her mother’s womb, to the elderly person who has no one to care for him, and everyone in between.  This first Sunday of October we celebrate as “Respect Life Sunday”, in which we give thanks to God for the gift of life and recommit ourselves to invigorating our work to protect the dignity of human life.  Therefore, it is good that we pause and give thanks today for God’s providence that has led to the overturning of the “Roe v. Wade” decision that has made it possible to increase legal protections of unborn human lives.  Let us applaud God right now for this great grace.

         One of the realities that we have all had to face since this day is that this decision by the Supreme Court is only one small step (albeit an incredibly important one) in the work of increasing respect for human life at all stages.  In many places in the United States, abortion will remain legal and widely available.  Our work of giving witness to the rights of unborn persons and to supporting mothers in need who choose to give birth to their children is as important now as it has ever been.  And this is only a small portion of the work that our pro-life ministries entail: for they also include work to protect the elderly and seriously disabled from the threat of euthanasia, work to abolish the death penalty, and (the often forgotten) work to protect the rights and dignity of immigrants.  Thus, in spite of this important victory for unborn persons, it may seem that we have an insurmountable task ahead of us still.

         This is what makes the reading from the prophet Habakkuk especially relevant today.  In many ways, he (like us) looked out into his society and observed current events closely.  He saw that, through no provocation of their own, the Assyrian army was making their way to the Israelite territories, enslaving the people of each nation that they conquered.  Habakkuk thus calls out to God, demanding an answer: “Where are you, God? You promised to protect us from our enemies, yet here we are under threat of destruction by this army of pagans! We are striving to be faithful. Why do you not seem to care?”  Habakkuk looked for a sign that God was still close to them.

         God provided that sign in his response to Habakkuk.  He told him: “Write down the vision clearly upon the tablets, so that one can read it readily. For the vision still has its time, presses on to fulfillment, and will not disappoint; if it delays, wait for it, it will surely come, it will not be late.”  The “vision” was God’s promise to the Israelites to deliver them from their enemies, which was foretold in the deliverance of the ancient Israelites from slavery in Egypt.  In a way, God tells Habakkuk to remind the Israelites that, although the work of deliverance seems to be insurmountable, he will still deliver them.  Therefore, they must be faithful: trusting that God will be faithful to his promises.

         In the Gospel reading, Jesus delivers a similar message.  There, his apostles approach him and ask him to “increase their faith”.  Jesus responds by teaching them that the quantity of faith is not important (for even a small amount of faith, exercised faithfully, is incredibly powerful), but rather that the quality of their faithfulness is what is important.  This is the meaning of the example of the servant: the servant is called to continue serving, trusting that the master will provide him with what he needs at the time he needs it, instead of seeking benefits before their time.  In other words, by his faithfulness the servant helps to bring forth the good, even if he doesn’t experience it in his own time.

         Okay, so how does all of this apply to us today?  As I said earlier, in spite of the victory that has been achieved for life (that is, that it is now possible to protect unborn persons from abortion in the United States), we still have a seemingly impossible task to build a “culture of life” here in the United States.  To this I will argue that the overturning of the “Roe v. Wade” decision is a prophetic message from God: that is that “the vision [of a culture of life] still has its time, presses on to fulfillment, and will not disappoint”.  Generations of Catholics, as well as other Christians and persons of good will, have been faithful to the work of promoting the legal protection of unborn persons here in the United States, in spite of the fact that they knew that they might not see its fulfillment in their lifetime.  Thanks be to God, we have seen a sign of its fulfillment.  Our duty now is to continue to work faithfully towards the vision, trusting that God, who sees beyond all space and time, will make fruitful our faithfulness in its time.

         As an example for us, I will turn once again to Saint Theresa of Calcutta, whom I have mentioned over the last few weeks.  In many ways, she was the most “pro-life” of us all.  In every person she encountered—from the most forgotten person in the streets of Calcutta to the most prominent leaders of nations in the world—she saw the image and likeness of God.  Forgetting herself completely, she feared nothing for herself, but only that Jesus would be neglected in the needs of someone she or the sisters in her community encountered.  Her faithful witness to the dignity and rights of every human person turned the hearts of millions of people to recognize the same.  Our faithful witness—that is, yours and mine—has the same power.

         Therefore, my brothers and sisters, we have only to decide, each day, to be faithful.  This means, first and foremost, that we spend time in prayer, drawing close to God in Jesus.  Then, that we give ourselves lovingly to others for love of Jesus (that is, loving them because Jesus loves them and, therefore, loving Jesus through them).  These “others” are those closest to us: those in our own households and in our own community.  Truly, the whole span of those whom our pro-life ministries seek to serve are present in our families and in our community: pregnant mothers who need support, elderly persons who need accompaniment and respect, immigrants who need shelter and support, the imprisoned who need love, compassion, and forgiveness, and so many more.

         We do this, of course, not only from a sense of duty toward God, but also out of our gratitude for what we have received from God: for we are only sinners who have been treated mercifully by him.  Therefore, as we offer him our worship today, let us give thanks for the faith that has restored to us our dignity as sons and daughters of God; and, with the strength of this Eucharist, let us recommit ourselves to work faithfully to build a “culture of life”, trusting that God will manifest its fruits in their own time, and that we will experience the reward for our faithfulness in the eternal life to come.

Given in Spanish at St. Paul Parish: Marion, IN – October 1^st, 2022

Given in Spanish at St. Joseph Parish: Delphi, IN – October 2^nd, 2022

The poor in our midst

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

         Friends, the story in today’s Gospel reading invites us to examine how we treat the poor in our midst.  I emphasize in our midst, so as to separate it from our obligation to have concern for the poor globally.  It is true that, in far too many places in the world—some, perhaps, where you or your families originated—a majority of the people lives impoverished.  Our love for God, whom, the Bible reveals to us, maintains a special closeness to the poor, impels us to have concern for people, even though they live far from us, who suffer from the lack of even the most basic necessities.  This is good, but this is not what this Gospel reading is inviting us to consider today.  Rather, it is inviting us to consider how we treat the poor who are closest to us: those in our midst.

         This is apparent right at the outset of the story.  After describing the decadence in which the rich man lived, Jesus notes that a most pitiful man, Lazarus, was lying at his door.  Jesus could have said that this rich man daily listened to reports of people in distant countries suffering from poverty because of corruption and violence and yet did nothing to try to help them, but he didn’t.  Rather, Jesus noted that there was a poor man lying at his door with whom he would not share even the scraps of food that he negligently allowed to fall from his table (so unconcerned was he that he would ever be without!).  It is for this utter negligence of the poor in his midst that the rich man is condemned to the place of eternal suffering.

         This is an important point to note, right?  In telling the story, Jesus does not show the rich man as condemned to suffering for being rich.  Nor is there any implication that the rich man is rich by any dishonest means.  Being rich and enjoying the comforts of this world is not what is being condemned here.  Rather, what is being condemned is a lack of concern for those who are poor, especially the poor ones in our midst.

         It think it also important to note what isn’t said about Lazarus, the poor man.  Jesus doesn’t say that Lazarus is a good man, only that he is a poor man.  We have no indication of Lazarus’ background or about why he is poor: only that he is poor.  In doing so, Jesus emphasizes that the poor in our midst demand our attention and compassion, regardless of the circumstances that led them into poverty.

         Point number three that I think is important to highlight is that Jesus doesn’t suggest what the rich man should have done to help the poor man, with one exception.  When he states that Lazarus was desirous to “eat his fill of the scraps that fell from the rich man’s table”, Jesus suggests one way that he could have showed concern for Lazarus: he could have been careful not to allow food to fall from the table and thus saved the leftovers to share with the poor man lying at his door.  This shows that the rich man is not condemned for failing to do something specific; rather, he’s condemned for having done nothing at all to help the poor man.

         Having noted these things, I pray that we can see both the uncomplicated lesson that Jesus is teaching as well as the radicalness of the teaching.  The uncomplicated lesson is this: we must allow ourselves to see the poor “lying at our doors” (that is, “in our midst”) and, having seen them, we must do something to help relieve their poverty.  The radicalness of this teaching is that we are called to do this in spite of the circumstances that led the poor person into his/her poverty or led us to enjoy worldly comfort.

         This should be a point of regular reflection for us, but more so this week as we reflect on this passage: If I open my eyes, where do I see the poor in my midst?  And not only the material poor, but the emotionally and spiritually poor as well?  Having seen the poor man/woman lying at my door, what can I do to help relieve his/her poverty?  Remember, it doesn’t have to be everything, it just has to be something: even something as simple as taking what you might have otherwise discarded and sharing it with him/her.  Many of you already do this (and much more!).  For this, we give thanks!  In this case, the reflection then becomes, “Is there still something more that I can do?”

         This last question is important so that we do not become complacent as we enjoy the fruit of our labors and, thus, the comforts that they can provide.  This can lead us to a hardness of heart that can turn our eyes away from the poor and our solidarity with them.  In the Gospel story, the rich man is so hardened of heart towards Lazarus—whom he never served—that he has the audacity, even while being tormented in the flames of hell, to ask that Lazarus serve him!  So great is his hardness of heart that Abraham has to call him to remember that the tables had been reversed: “remember that you received what was good during your lifetime while Lazarus likewise received what was bad; but now he is comforted here, whereas you are tormented.”  To me, this is a chilling warning: Are you comfortable now? Beware that you do not keep these comforts to yourself so that you don’t lose the true comforts in the life to come.

         Friends, to bring this all together, I will return to something that I said at the beginning of the homily: that, through the Scriptures, God has revealed to us that he maintains a special closeness to those who are poor.  He loves them and wishes to bless them because of the sufferings they endure in this life.  Authentic love of God urges us to love what he loves.  Therefore, our love for God should urge us to desire that same closeness with the poor, especially the poor ones lying at our doors.  Saint Theresa of Calcutta frequently reminded people that her motivation to serve the poor was the teaching of Jesus: that to do good to one who is poor and suffering was to do it to Jesus.  Her love of Jesus led her to love the poor, in whom she found Jesus.

         If you find that your love of God lacks this strong urge to serve the poor in your midst, then I encourage you to reflect on your own poverty—the times when, perhaps, you were in material need, but also when you were in emotional and spiritual need.  Who, in your poverty, drew close to you?  These were signs of God’s closeness to you.  Perhaps this gratitude for God’s closeness to you will inspire in you a new desire to draw close to the poor near you so that, in serving those who have no way of repaying you, you may experience the love of God in a new way—an experience of loving like God loves—and so deepen your communion with him.

         This love of God drawing close to those who are poor is experienced most profoundly here in the Eucharist.  May our participation in it today fill us with courageous love that draws us close to the poor in our midst and thus prepares us to enter into the peaceful comforts of life eternal in heaven.

Given in Spanish at Saint Paul Parish: Marion, IN – September 24^th, 2022

Given in Spanish at Our Lady of the Lakes Parish: Monticello, IN

September 25^th, 2022

El pobre en medio de nosotros

 Homilía: 26º Domingo del Tiempo Ordinario – Ciclo C

         Hermanos, la historia del Evangelio de hoy nos invita a examinar cómo tratamos a los pobres en medio de nosotros. Hago hincapié en medio de nosotros, para separarlo de nuestra obligación de preocuparnos por los pobres por todo el mundo. Es cierto que, en demasiados lugares del mundo—algunos, tal vez, donde ustedes o sus familias son originarios—la mayoría de la gente vive en la pobreza. Nuestro amor a Dios, quien, como nos revela la Biblia, mantiene una especial cercanía a los pobres, nos impulsa a preocuparnos por las personas, aunque vivan lejos de nosotros, que sufren por faltar las necesidades más elementales. Esto es bueno, pero esto no es lo que esta lectura del Evangelio nos invita a considerar hoy. Más bien, nos está invitando a considerar cómo tratamos a los pobres que están más cerca de nosotros: los que están en medio de nosotros.

         Esto es evidente desde el principio de la historia. Después de describir la decadencia en la que vivía el hombre rico, Jesús nota que un hombre bien lastimoso, Lázaro, yacía a la entrada de su casa. Jesús podría haber dicho que este hombre rico escuchaba diariamente informes de personas en países distantes que sufrían de pobreza debido a la corrupción y la violencia y, sin embargo, no hizo nada para tratar de ayudarlos, pero no lo hizo. Más bien, Jesús notó que había un hombre pobre a la entrada de su casa con quien no compartiría ni siquiera las sobras de comida que negligentemente permitió que cayeran de su mesa (¡tan despreocupado estaba él de que nunca se quedaría sin nada!). Es por esta negligencia total de los pobres en medio de él que el hombre rico está condenado al lugar del sufrimiento eterno.

         Este es un punto importante a tener en cuenta, ¿verdad? Al contar la historia, Jesús no muestra al rico como condenado a sufrir por ser rico. Tampoco hay ninguna implicación de que el hombre rico es rico por medios deshonestos. Ser rico y disfrutar de las comodidades de este mundo no es lo que se condena aquí. Más bien, lo que se condena es la falta de preocupación por los pobres, especialmente los pobres en medio de nosotros.

         También me parece importante señalar lo que no se dice de Lázaro, el pobre. Jesús no dice que Lázaro sea un buen hombre, sino que es un hombre pobre. No tenemos ninguna indicación de los antecedentes de Lázaro o de por qué él es pobre: solo que él es pobre. Al hacerlo, Jesús enfatiza que los pobres en medio de nosotros exigen nuestra atención y compasión, independientemente de las circunstancias que los llevaron a la pobreza.

         El punto número tres que creo que es importante resaltar es que Jesús no sugiere lo que el rico debería haber hecho para ayudar al pobre, con una excepción. Cuando dice que Lázaro estaba “ansiando llenarse con las sobras que caían de la mesa del rico”, Jesús sugiere una manera en la que pudo haber mostrado preocupación por Lázaro: podría haber tenido cuidado de no permitir que la comida se cayera de la mesa y así guardar las sobras para compartirlas con el pobre hombre que yacía a la entrada de su casa. Esto muestra que el hombre rico no es condenado por dejar de hacer algo específico; más bien, está condenado por no haber hecho nada en absoluto para ayudar al hombre pobre.

         Habiendo notado estas cosas, oro para que podamos ver tanto la lección simple que Jesús está enseñando como la radicalidad de la enseñanza. La lección simple es esta: debemos permitirnos ver a los pobres “yaciendo a nuestras entradas” (es decir, “en medio de nosotros”) y, habiéndolos visto, debemos hacer algo para ayudar a aliviar su pobreza. La radicalidad de esta enseñanza es que estamos llamados a hacerlo a pesar de las circunstancias que llevaron al pobre a su pobreza o a nosotros a disfrutar de las comodidades mundanas.

         Este debería ser un punto de reflexión regular para nosotros, pero más aún esta semana al reflexionar sobre este pasaje: Si abro los ojos, ¿dónde veo a los pobres en medio de mí? ¿Y no sólo los pobres materialmente, sino también los pobres emocional y espiritualmente? Habiendo visto al pobre hombre/mujer a la entrada de mi casa, ¿qué puedo hacer para ayudar a aliviar su pobreza? Recuerde, no tiene que ser todo, solo tiene que ser algo: incluso algo tan simple como tomar lo que de otro modo podría haber desechado y compartirlo con él/ella. Muchos de ustedes ya hicieron esto (¡y mucho más!). ¡Por esto, damos gracias! En este caso, la reflexión se convierte en "¿Todavía hay algo más que pueda hacer?"

         Esta última pregunta es importante para que no nos volvamos complacientes en disfrutar del fruto de nuestro trabajo y, por ende, de las comodidades que nos pueden brindar. Esto puede llevarnos a una dureza de corazón que puede apartar nuestra mirada de los pobres y de nuestra solidaridad con ellos. En la historia del Evangelio, el rico está tan endurecido de corazón hacia Lázaro—a quien nunca sirvió—que tiene la audacia, aun estando atormentado en las llamas del infierno, de pedir ¡que Lázaro lo sirva! Tan grande es su dureza de corazón que Abraham tiene que llamarlo para recordar que las tablas se habían invertido: “recuerda que en tu vida recibiste bienes y Lázaro, en cambio, males. Por eso él goza ahora de consuelo, mientras que tú sufres tormentos.” Para mí, esta es una advertencia escalofriante: ¿Está cómodo ahora? Tenga cuidado de no quedarse con estas comodidades para no perder las verdaderas comodidades en la vida venidera.

         Hermanos, para juntar todo esto, vuelvo a algo que dije al comienzo de la homilía: que, a través de las Escrituras, Dios nos ha revelado que mantiene una cercanía especial con los pobres. Él los ama y desea bendecirlos por los sufrimientos que soportan en esta vida. El auténtico amor de Dios nos insta a amar lo que él ama. Por tanto, nuestro amor a Dios debe impulsarnos a desear esa misma cercanía con los pobres, especialmente con los pobres que están a nuestras puertas. Santa Teresa de Calcuta recordaba con frecuencia a la gente que su motivación para servir a los pobres era la enseñanza de Jesús: que hacer el bien al pobre y al que sufre era hacérselo a Jesús. Su amor a Jesús la llevó a amar a los pobres, en quienes encontró a Jesús.

         Si encuentra que su amor por Dios carece de este fuerte impulso de servir a los pobres en medio de usted, entonces lo animo a reflexionar sobre su propia pobreza: los momentos en que, tal vez, estaba en necesidad material, pero también cuando estaba en necesidad emocional y espiritual. ¿Quién, en su pobreza, se acercó a usted? Estos fueron signos de la cercanía de Dios con usted. Quizá esta gratitud por la cercanía de Dios hacia usted lo suscite un nuevo deseo de acercarse a los pobres que están cerca de usted para que, sirviendo a los que no tienen cómo pagarle, podía experimentar el amor de Dios de una manera nueva—una experiencia de amar como Dios ama—y así profundizar su comunión con él.

         Este amor de Dios que se acerca a los pobres se experimenta más profundamente aquí en la Eucaristía. Que nuestra participación en ella hoy nos llene de un amor valiente que nos acerque a los pobres en medio de nosotros y nos prepare así para entrar en las comodidades pacíficas de la vida eterna en el cielo.

Dado en la parroquia de San Pablo: Marion, IN – 24 de septiembre, 2022

Dado en la parroquia de Nuestra Señora de los Lagos: Monticello, IN

25 de septiembre, 2022

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