Homily for Friday, 31 January 2013– Memorial of St. John Bosco

Friday of the 3rd week in Ordinary Time

Readings of the day: 2 Samuel 11:1-4a, 5-10a, 13-17; Psalm 51:3-4, 5-6a, 6bcd-7, 10-11; Mark 4:26-34

When you hear a story like that of David having Uriah slain and then taking Bathsheba as his wife, do you ever think, “What a horrible thing to do?” Does this natural indignant feeling even progress toward hoping that God will exact retribution on people like David?

Let us think about this, since from time to time our society and individuals in it react similarly toward some of its worst and most violent criminals, and even some of its more minor sinners: “How could such a sin be forgiven?” or “This person must be punished,” or even “This criminal deserves to die.”

I ask, especially if anyone here has ever been a victim of crime or knows someone who has, that you not understand me to mean that I am against correction of evil or especially of criminal behavior. Even David does not escape from the consequences of his actions. The child he and Bathsheba conceive dies, if you will pardon me for giving away a central event in tomorrow’s first reading! And yet David is given the chance to repent, and he does. Then, as we know from the rest of the story, the key point is that God builds the kingdom of Israel upon David the repentant sinner.  

God gives us the chance to repent; to echo the Psalmist: “Be merciful, O Lord, for we have sinned”; to say at the very beginning of our Mass, “Lord have mercy. Christ have mercy. Lord have mercy.” Then God builds God’s kingdom upon us.

This building of God’s kingdom upon repentant sinners is only possible if God is not primarily a God of retribution but a God of patience; a God of forgiveness; a God who allows the mustard seed of goodness and faith of which Jesus speaks in our Gospel parable today to grow into a strong plant in which others can take shelter under our own branches of patience and forgiveness.

God’s patience and forgiveness was the example of St. John Bosco, whose feast day we celebrate today. St. John Bosco, a patron of the Basilians and founder of the Salesians, is known for his work among the poor youth, the street children, including convicted criminals of nineteenth century Turin.

Don Bosco’s motto was one of patience and forgiveness: “Not with blows, but with charity and gentleness must you draw these friends to the path of virtue.” For rejecting retribution and punishment in favor of patience and forgiveness; “charity and gentleness,” St. John Bosco was thought insane by many. Some tried unsuccessfully to block his canonization for this reason.

“Not with blows,” not with retribution, “but with charity and gentleness”; patience and forgiveness: On this foundation God is building God’s kingdom upon us, repentant sinners every one.

Homily for Wednesday, 22 January 2014– Ferial

Wednesday of the 2nd week in Ordinary Time

Day of Prayer for the Legal Protection of Unborn Children 

Readings of the day: 1 Samuel 17:32-33, 37, 40-51; Psalm 144:1b, 2, 9-10; Mark 3:1-6 

“Is it lawful to do good… rather than to do evil; to save life rather than to destroy it?”

I think we know the answer to Jesus’ rhetorical question in our Gospel reading from Mark, as he heals the man with the withered hand: Yes! Not only is it “lawful to do good” and “to save life,” but to uphold the dignity of human life is the only morally right option.

Today in the U.S. is the Day of Prayer for the Legal Protection of Unborn Children, which coincides with the now forty-first anniversary of Roe v. Wade. Today thousands have traveled to Washington for the annual March for Life; many from our parish. Many more pray quietly from their homes and churches for the legal recognition of the dignity of human life. Let us join them in prayer.

But as we join them in prayer, let us also remember and pray for the protection of all human life, and for such protection to be increasingly understood as not only a legal obligation, but a moral one.

I emphasize again the invitation to protect and to love all human life; to move hearts, societies, and the world with this love for human life. I speak in defense not only of the unborn, although they are most vulnerable to having their fundamental right to life disregarded.

Should we not also speak in defense of the poor, too often neglected by economies “of exclusion”; economic structures that, as Pope Francis says, are also a violation of the commandment, “Thou shalt not kill”; a symptom of a “throwaway culture” that is lamentably “spreading.”

Should we not also speak in defense of migrants and refugees, too often viewed as “a problem to be solved” and not enough as our own “brothers and sisters”? Should we not speak in defense of trafficked persons and in condemnation of the crime against humanity that is human trafficking? Should we not speak in defense of victims of war and violence and for an end to such violence?

Should we not speak with the Lord’s love even for “the enemy”; those whose lives are deemed expendable because they are “extremists”; they are on death row; they are the feared; they are the other; they are the enemy?

Should we not speak in defense of women; particularly on this Day of Prayer for the Legal Protection of Unborn Children; for women who have experienced abuse; women in situations of crisis pregnancy who may view abortion as, in Pope Francis’ words, “a quick solution to their profound anguish” if they are not properly accompanied, counseled, and loved? Should we not speak in defense of the elderly; those suffering from depression and other mental illnesses; people with disabilities; the terminally ill?   

“Is it lawful to do good… to save life rather than to destroy it?” Deep in our hearts, we know the answer to this question: Yes! So let us speak; let us act; let us join in prayer to uphold the dignity of and right to all human life.

Homily for Sunday, 19 January 2014

2nd Sunday in Ordinary Time

World Day of Migrants and Refugees

Readings of the day: Isaiah 49:3, 5-6; Psalm 40:2, 4, 7-8, 8-9, 10; 1 Corinthians 1:1-3; John 1:29-34

My sisters and brothers in Christ, we hear the LORD through the prophet Isaiah in today’s first reading: “It is too little… for you to be my servant… I will make you a light to the nations, that my salvation may reach to the ends of the earth.”

What does it mean for us, as individuals and as a Church, to be “a light to the nations”? This seems to me to be a daunting task.

Almost fifty years ago (some of us may be able to remember that far back), the Second Vatican Council published a document called Lumen Gentium, or “Light of Nations.” Lumen Gentium’s purpose was to explain the Church’s core identity: Who are we as Church? Lumen Gentium begins by describing who Christ is, namely “the light of nations,” borrowing from the passage we just heard from the prophet Isaiah. Then, Lumen Gentium describes the Church; us. We are “in Christ.”

If we are “in Christ”, called to be Christ-like; a “light of nations” that brings God’s salvation “to the ends of the earth,” is it not indeed too little” for us to be merely God’s servants? Our task‒ that of being “a light to the nations”‒ has just become no less daunting. So how are we to accomplish it?

Would not a Church that is “light of nations” and “to the nations” be primarily a missionary Church; a Church that brings Christ to people and nations that do not yet know Christ or who know him only faintly? Would not this kind of Church be unafraid to point Christ out to people, despite our own insecurities; our own lack of faith; our own sin from time to time? Pope Francis has certainly advocated this kind of Church: a Church that risks becoming “hurt” and “dirty”; a Church that smells “like the sheep.”

If we turn to our Gospel reading, we hear that John the Baptist also advocated this kind of missionary Christian discipleship. John admits repeatedly that, before Christ came to him, he “did not know” Christ fully. But lack of knowledge of Christ did not stop John, who knew the purpose given him by God: “That Christ might be made known.”

Christian mission; being a Christ-like “light to the nations”; making Christ known to all nations; testifying that Jesus Christ “is the Son of God” does not require our perfect knowledge, perfect faith, or perfect holiness. Christian mission is not about John the Baptist, not about me, not about us, but first and foremost about God and his Christ. We, like John who is our model in Christian mission, are called to point Christ out by our words and actions: “He is the one… the Son of God.”

But perhaps many of us find pointing Christ out to others to be difficult. For many of us, our physical scope of mission is limited. Many of us have not traveled to other countries, perhaps other states, or even other cities. Some among us or our loved ones, because of infirmity or other reasons, are often kept in or near our homes. And yet we are all called to Christian mission; to point out and to be “a light to the nations.” How can we do this?

Let me propose, for all of us, a kind of “reverse mission.” Instead of focusing on an active, outgoing kind of mission, especially for those of us who are incapable of such mission, have you ever allowed another person to be of service to you; to be a “light” that brightens your day or eases your sorrow; to be kind to you; to be like Christ to you at a time when you are in need? I am sure that most of us can think of a person who has been and that we have allowed to present to us in this way. I can think of many such people in my life.

One of my brother Basilians has often said to me that to serve another, especially within a religious order, is easy. We have more difficulty allowing ourselves to be served. Yet allowing another to be Christ to us, to serve us freely, is every bit an act of mission as is freely acting as Christ toward another person; serving another person. We can be a “light to” other people, indeed “a light to the nations,” by allowing them to be a light to us.

Our actions of allowing others be a light to us can have far-reaching, even worldwide, implications. This weekend we celebrate the World Day of Migrants and Refugees. How many of us know someone who is an immigrant or a refugee; someone in need of welcome and of friendship to ease adjustment to a new country and a new culture?

I think back to many instances, particularly when I was involved in refugee ministry in Toronto as a seminarian, when “the nations,” personified in the refugees and migrants with whom I ministered, were a light to me. In one of these instances, I translated an appeal of a denial of refugee status for a mother and her small child. Success of such appeals in Canada is rare, so I thought the odds of this case to be long at best. Weeks later, the mother entered the office where I was volunteering. With tears of joy in her eyes, she embraced me and thanked me, her papers of her refugee claim acceptance in hand. Her tears of joy met mine. If I were called to be a light to the nations through refugee ministry, on that day the opposite happened: The light of Christ came to me from among the nations.

I believe these instances are evidence of why, in his message for this year’s World Day of Migrants and Refugees, Pope Francis describes migration as offering “possibilities for a new evangelization, open vistas for the growth of a new humanity foreshadowed in the… mystery [of Christ’s passion and resurrection]: a humanity for which every foreign country is a homeland and every homeland is a foreign country.”

If you know a refugee or immigrant, of whom there are many in this immigrant and refugee-rich city of Rochester and state of New York, and can reach out to; befriend this person; be Christ’s light to her or him, I invite you to do so. Your friendship; your light will return to you. If you know someone in any kind of need, I invite you to satisfy this one person’s need in whatever way you are able. And if you are in need, do not be afraid to ask for someone to satisfy your need; to be a Christ light to you. In this way, we will be “a light to the nations”; the nations will be a light to us, and together, I am confident, we will make Christ known in our world. We will bring God’s salvation “to the ends of the earth.”

Homily for Wednesday, 15 January 2014– Ferial

Wednesday of the 1st week in Ordinary Time

Readings of the day: 1 Samuel 3:1-10, 19-20; Psalm 40:2, 5, 7-8a, 8b-9, 10; Mark 1:29-39

Our readings today feature two people, Samuel and Jesus, who were renowned for their effective speaking and preaching. Samuel, our first reading says, became known in “all Israel” as “an accredited prophet of the LORD.” Very early in his ministry, Jesus discerned that he was called to preach in the villages of Galilee: “For this purpose I have come.”

But have you ever thought how speaking or preaching effectively; indeed any form of Christian ministry, or simply being a person of faith, is not so much dependent upon whatever ministry we do, but upon how well we listen, pray, and discern God’s will for us?

A lovely phrase in today’s Responsorial Psalm captures the primary importance of listening in our prayer and discernment: “Ears of obedience you gave me.” According to the Psalmist, God does not want our offerings of sacrifice so much as for us to listen with “ears of obedience.”

We have all been given by God the gift of “ears of obedience.” For various reasons: age, infirmity, and so forth, we may gradually decline in our abilities for active ministry, but this universal gift of “ears of obedience” still remains when we are capable of little other activity.

I admit, though, personally and culturally, how difficult it can be to listen with “ears of obedience”; to pray; to discern attentively not only the joys, the needs, and the will of other people but the will of God for me; for us. Add in the many forms of electronic technology designed to keep us “connected,” and these technologies can replace human interaction and relationship. We can end up, as a culture, more disconnected, because we can end up less able to listen with “ears of obedience”; with ears of discernment of human need and of God’s will.  

Only if we listen first with “ears of obedience” will we learn to trust God in all things. Only then will we develop reverence and “delight” for God’s law. Only then will we be able to announce God’s “justice” in our world. Only then will we be able to cultivate human relationships and relationship with God. Only then will we be able to discern, after Jesus, the “purpose” for which we “have come”; the purpose for which God has made us and called us. Only then will we be able to answer as Samuel did, and as our Psalm echoes: “Speak, for your servant is listening… Here am I, LORD; I come to do your will.”

Homily for Saturday, 11 January 2014– Saturday after Epiphany

Readings of the day: 1 John 5:14-21; Psalm 149:1-2, 3-4, 5-6a, 9b; John 3:22-30

How many of us can admit to having a competitive tendency from time to time? This tendency is not bad, in and of itself. Competition is, to some extent, embedded in our culture. We want to better ourselves; we want to achieve that promotion; we want increased wealth and social status. Many of us even challenge ourselves to be more faithful or prayerful, or to be involved in more ministry activities in our parish.

Some degree of competition can be healthy. However, today we hear in John’s Gospel a challenge against the kind of competition that inhibits us from Christ and Christ’s Gospel.

Our Gospel reading says that a “dispute” developed between “the disciples of John” the Baptist “and a Jew,” but how many of us recognize the many small but important details of this Gospel’s setting of the scene? The reading begins by describing the place where John was baptizing as having “an abundance of water”; a place to which “people came to be baptized.” An abundance of water and an abundance of people: John the Baptist recognizes that this abundance is not his own but a gift from God.

Then John the Baptist’s role is described like that of “the best man,” the one in a wedding whose role is to bring together the bride and the bridegroom, in this case Christ and the faithful. In this gift from God John rejoices. No gift is greater than to bring the faithful to Christ. “So this joy of mine has been made complete,” John says. There is no greater honor on earth; no greater joy; nothing greater for which we can compete than to be a people of God and to bring yet more people to Christ.

Yet we, like John, are not the Christ. We receive our abundance; our joy; our love; our Christian baptism not from ourselves but from God. Our task, like that of John, the task that will bring us the greatest joy, is to make Christ, not primarily ourselves, known by our actions and words. God, not we, “must increase.”

In a culture that too often tempts us to compete for the greatest honor, the greatest wealth, and the greatest status, sometimes at the expense of other people, we are invited to make the Baptist’s last words in John’s Gospel our own prayer:  In Christ, “this joy of mine has been made complete. He must increase. I must decrease.”