Mercy and Justice

Homily for the Seventh Sunday in Ordinary Time
23 February 2014

          My brothers and sisters, two words could sum up our First Reading, Responsorial Psalm and Gospel for today: “mercy” and “justice”. And while the theme of mercy prevails in today’s Scripture passages, one quickly realizes that you cannot have mercy if you don’t have justice.

        Jesus presents to us this day a message greater than simply “love your neighbor” or “love your enemy”. Rather, our Lord gives us the command to be like God in all things. We know that the Lord is merciful, which is why we try to show mercy through our thoughts, words and actions. However, our God is also a just God, and will judge us accordingly to our thoughts, words and actions.

        This is the understanding when we approach the Sacrament of Reconciliation: we seek God’s mercy through the rendering of His justice. The priest, who sits in the confessional in the person of Jesus Christ, is both judge and jury within the Sacrament. When we confess our sins, we not only accuse ourselves of the unjust thoughts, words and deeds we have done, but we also accuse ourselves of our lack of mercy towards our neighbors and our enemies. The priest, as judge, must render a just verdict towards the penitent who has accused himself or herself of the wrong committed; however, the priest, as jury, must render a just penance towards the penitent due to the sins confessed. Ultimately through seeking to enact justice, the priest must also assist the penitent in seeking the mercy of God. Only when we understand God’s justice will we rightfully understand God’s mercy.

        If we are to be like our Heavenly Father in all things – that is, to be holy and perfect –, the more we practice His mercy in our lives, the more we will be able to practice His justice in our lives, as well. For the justice of God is different than the justice of man. That is what Jesus was pointing out to us in today’s Gospel.

Human justice rests in the understanding of revenge or retribution: “an eye for an eye” is the common practice. Human justice allows violence to beget violence. This is not the justice of God. God’s justice is true justice; it is an honest, fair, objective and equitable rendered treatment for the thoughts, words and actions we have performed throughout the course of our lives. God’s justice, therefore, is the judgment of how we practice the virtues of mercy and charity in the here and now. The example of God’s justice leads us to understand how our practice of judgment must be based in mercy.

When we hold on to anger in practicing justice, there is, most likely, the continuation of violence within our actions. This is one of the reasons why the Church teaches that the death penalty is an immoral action. Not only do we, in the West, have the technology to hold criminals in prisons for their crimes indefinitely, but to practice the death penalty is to allow the cycle of violence to be perpetuated in our society. No matter how much we hurt, violence should never be our reaction to violence; we should never fight fire with fire, for it leaves everyone burned. “An eye for an eye,” says the old adage, “simply leaves one blind.”

Our Lord, in our Gospel today, just as Moses taught the Israelites in our First Reading from Leviticus, reminds us that mercy is the key to all of our relationships and interactions. We are, as Jesus teaches us, to end the cycle of violence and vengeance, and offer to those who harm and hurt us an opportunity to experience a love that heals and a mercy that comforts. If we are to become as holy and perfect as our Heavenly Father, then we must extend the same mercy and compassion to those who have hurt us, just as He extends that same mercy and compassion to us.

Now I’m not going to lie to you and say this is easy. NOT. AT. ALL. To offer mercy, to extend compassion, to bestow love to those who have harmed us in some way is the opposite reaction to how our human nature operates. We want to see those people “get what they deserve.” But that’s our human thirst for revenge, for what we believe to be justice. It is the easy way out to keep the grudge, the hurt, the pain alive in our hearts. But in doing this we rob ourselves of the opportunity to experience the mercy and compassion of God in our lives. We are called to take the high road and narrow way in these circumstances – to offer mercy and charity where we would otherwise hold on to the pain.

Think about these words of Saint Philip Neri:

If a man finds it very hard to forgive injuries, let him look at a Crucifix, and think that Christ shed all His Blood for him, and not only forgave His enemies, but even prayed His Heavenly Father to forgive them also. Let him remember that when he says the ‘Our Father’, every day, instead of asking pardon for his sins, he is calling down vengeance on himself.

And these words from the diary of Saint Faustina:

For there are three ways of performing an act of mercy: the merciful word, by forgiving and by comforting; secondly, if you can offer no word, then pray - that too is mercy; and thirdly, deeds of mercy. And when the Last Day comes, we shall be judged from this, and on this basis we shall receive the eternal verdict.

My brothers and sisters, mercy and justice are virtues which are imbedded into the Christian life. And if we are to be called “Christian”, if we are to be known as a disciple of Christ, then we must live and practice the mercy and justice we hoped to be judged by. Vengeance should never be the disposition of the Christian – especially for us who are nourished through the Word and Sacrament of He Who IS Mercy itself and Justice itself. Violence should never be the action or reaction of the one who has been baptized into the Paschal Mystery, for it is an oxymoron to worship God and curse our neighbors and enemies.

Saint Josemaria Escriva reminds us: “Never say, ‘That person bothers me;’ rather, say, ‘That person sanctifies me.’” For it is when we realize in the moments of pain, frustration, hurt and anger that our God bestows mercy upon us to be at peace and persevere in the moment, then we also realize that that same mercy is with us to pursue true justice – the justice that flows from the Sacred Heart of Jesus. It is that same mercy and justice that we now plead for at this Mass. It is that same mercy and justice that we receive as we approach the altar. It is that same mercy and justice that sends us back into the world, so that we may minister God’s mercy to all – so that we may become as holy and perfect as our God.

 

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Enjoy the journey . . .

Concert Preaching

Okay - the title may seem a little misleading. I DID NOT preach at a concert. Rather, the band's lead singer did a little preaching. And I found that to be a little refreshing.

Last Friday (yes, 14 February - a.k.a. Saint Valentine's Day), I took the opportunity to see 3 Doors Down in concert at the Carnegie Music Hall in the Oakland section of Pittsburgh. (They are currently on their acoustic "Songs from the Basement" tour.) 3 Doors Down is my favorite band, and, though only having been to one of their concerts previously, I found that the concert atmosphere was wonderful.

Yet during this most recent concert, I was surprised by the honesty of Brad Arnold, the lead singer of the band. During the concert, he mentioned how he and the other members of the band feel very blessed by God to have the opportunity each night to perform [their] music for people. (I would think that he meant, in some ways, the music that the band has produced. However, they did cover a few pieces that the band or people in the audience liked.) 

And while we may hear this from time-to-time from different people in different walks of life, the band was unashamed in their faith in God, and particularly in their faith in Jesus Christ. 

A number of the audience applauded. Another set of the audience sat, perhaps in a little shock that something like that would be said at such a venue. (Maybe they considered this band to be like many other musicians and entertainers of our era who consider themselves "spiritual but not religious." - An interesting article about that can be read here.) Nevertheless, I found it to be a wonderful witness to the Christian faith. 

And the way that it was said was not flashy. It wasn't overbearing. It was in no way over-the-top. It was said in a matter-of-fact style. It was said in humility. It was said in a manner that showed he completely understood and agreed with what he was saying.

And that was awesome.

Following that, Mr. Arnold mentioned that that moment was a good set-up and movement into the next song, which, paraphrasing him, "you can replace the 'u' with an 'o', and it's still true."

(I had a feeling where he was going.)

He was introducing the song "Away from the Sun."

To be honest, sometimes a secular song hits me as being "prayerful", meaning that it can be used as a prayer. Other times, a song may help me to reflect upon my relationship with God. And while "Away from the Sun" was a song that struck me in many ways, I don't think I thought about it in that "theological way." (And though it may have not been an exegesis on a great Scriptural passage, the statement can be true.)

At the core of understanding the "Son" - the way that we stay "away from the Son" is through our sinfulness, hiding in the dark of those things which distance us from the Light of Christ. And the further we distance ourselves from Christ, the harder it is to see the Light through the darkness. It's not impossible to see the Light, but if our choices keep us in the dark, we will not have the ability to allow the Light to lead us out of the darkness. In essence, we keep ourselves "away from the Son."

The lyrics, at least to me, can point us in that direction. Questions like "What have I done?", "Where am I?", and "How do I get out of this place?" are posed when we recognize that we are "away from the Son" - the Light that shines to lead us sinners back into the warmth of the the fire of God's love and mercy.

But, remembering yesterday's First Reading and Gospel, it must be OUR CHOICE which helps us understand that we are in the dark, and that we need the help of God to bring us back into right relationship with Him and His Church.

For your assistance and pondering, here are the lyrics:


It's down to this
I've got to make this life make sense
Can anyone tell what I've done
I miss the life
I miss the colors of the world
Can anyone tell where I am

'Cause now again I've found myself
So far down, away from the sun
That shines into the darkest place
I'm so far down, away from the sun again
Away from the sun again

I'm over this
I'm tired of living in the dark
Can anyone see me down here
The feeling's gone
There's nothing left to lift me up
Back into the world I know

And now again I've found myself
So far down, away from the sun
That shines into the darkest place
I'm so far down, away from the sun
That shines to light the way for me
To find my way back into the arms
That care about the ones like me
I'm so far down, away from the sun again

It's down to this
I've got to make this life make sense
And now I can't tell what I've done

And now again I've found myself
So far down, away from the sun
That shines to light the way for me

'Cause now again I've found myself
So far down, away from the sun
That shines into the darkest place
I'm so far down, away from the sun
That shines to light the way for me
To find my way back into the arms
That care about the ones like me
I'm so far down, away from the sun again

Oh no...
Yeah...
I'm gone...


It was a great moment of evangelization which took a number of people by surprise. I'm grateful it happened. I think that we need more members of our entertainment industry to truly hold fast to some type of belief, and not simply flip-flop around to the most popular spiritual practice of the day.

Although I would have enjoyed the concert without the public witness of faith, that moment gave me something more to appreciate, not only as a priest, but also as a Christian. And though I wasn't wearing the collar to the concert that night, I felt in some way the band was.


This is the type of preaching I like to hear.

And this is the type of preaching I like to hear from people who have a bigger soapbox than I.




Enjoy the journey . . .

Reflection on the Two Thieves

One Lent, I was asked by a neighboring parish to help lead the Stations of the Cross, and to give a reflection on one particular character or a group of characters from the Stations. For that particular reflection, I chose the two thieves. Below is that reflection. (Something else I found while cleaning my files.)

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Now one of the criminals hanging there reviled Jesus, saying, “Are you not the Messiah? Save yourself and us.” The other, however, rebuking him, said in reply, “Have you no fear of God, for you are subject to the same condemnation? And indeed, we have been condemned justly, for the sentence we received corresponds to our crimes, but this man has done nothing criminal.” Then he said, “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.” He replied to him, “Amen, I say to you, today you will be with me in Paradise.”

-         Luke 23.39-43

The two thieves that we have encountered time and again in our reading of and reflecting upon the Scriptures can provide us a wonderful insight into the great mercy of God. It is only in the Gospel of Luke do we witness a conversation of the three crucified men. Yet it is in this conversation that we are allowed to share in one of the most intimate moments of all of Jesus’ human life. And from this conversation, do we recognize something quite universal in the scene.

As I was developing my thoughts on how to approach these characters within our Lord’s Passion, I needed to really stop and consider not only who these thieves were then, but who they are now. The thief on the left of Jesus, Gestas, and the thief on the right of the Cross, Saint Dismas, do not have named rolls in the Gospels given to us in Sacred Scripture. These names are given to us in the Passion account of the Gnostic Gospel of Nicodemus. They are also named in the Arabic Infancy Gospel, an apocryphal work compiled in Sixth-Century Syria, which tells the story that as Jesus, Mary and Joseph were returning to Nazareth from Egypt, they encountered two thieves along the way, Dismas and Gestas. Dismas pleads Gestas to spare the Holy Family’s lives by paying a ransom for them. Gestas agrees, and allows the Family to be on their way. Before they depart company, however, a young Jesus prophesies that they – Dismas, Gestas and Jesus – would meet again when He is crucified, and that they would be crucified along with Him, one on His right, the other on His left.

While these stories are interesting to read (though we hold no faith in them), and while it is “fun” (if I may use that word) to develop an understanding of who these men are that we encounter so briefly in the Sacred Scriptures, we must come to the realization that these two thieves reveal to us something that is deeper than a moment of repentance and mercy while Jesus dies upon the Cross. In their respective persons, both Dismas and Gestas portray the reality of humanity and of human society: the human society of Jesus’ day and our day, and the humanity that we are all called to.

You see, in the two thieves, one is able to see society’s reaction to Christ, and, in extension, those who follow Him on the one side, while seeing the follower’s reaction to society while seeking out the mercy of God on the other side. And while I would like to take full credit on developing this thought all by myself, as I was doing some research and reflection into the two thieves, I came across the idea of the societal / disciple reflection in a small book by Servant of God Archbishop Fulton J. Sheen, The Cross and the Beatitudes: Lessons on Love and Forgiveness. Though the good archbishop primarily focuses on the attitude of Christ showing mercy from the Cross (focusing upon the second Beatitude), he also mentions how the attitudes of the thieves reflect modern-day the society that we live in and the humanity to which we are called.

Gestas, the thief on the left of our Lord, represents society as we know it. (That includes society in the days of Jesus, as well as speaking of our current day.) In this thief’s mocking and taunting of the Lord, we notice how society continues to mock Jesus – in His message, in His mission, and in His Body – the Church. This is something that we can look through the pages of history to observe, and yet acknowledge that it continues to happen through our day.

Society taunts our Lord to prove He is Who He says He is. Just like Gestas, our modern society wants to see Jesus come down from the Cross, not understanding that it is the Cross on which Jesus truly proves He is Who He says He is! It is in society’s view that the Cross (and all who stand in Its shadow) are completely foolish because we are being held captive to something that is archaic and out-of-date. Yet, we who know Christ and who have turned to Him time and again know that the message and reality of the Cross is not archaic, but eternal – constantly showing us the depth of God’s love for us. Gestas, and modern society, proves that the misunderstanding exists of what the message of Jesus REALLY is, which is not that we use our power to promote what we want to see happen, but that we funnel the power and talents God has given us through our submission to the will of God so that we may continue help others to know Christ, so that they may be able to enter into the Kingdom of Heaven.

On the other side of Jesus, we have Saint Dismas. This thief who showed mercy to Jesus was, in turn, showed mercy by Jesus in the Lord’s final moments on the Cross. Dismas gives to us the great example of how humanity ought to be: rebuking society for the mockery and taunting it gives to Jesus, while, at the same time, seeking the mercy of God for the wrongs that we know we have done in our sinfulness – both individually and collectively.

Yet, there is something more in this seeking of mercy in the example of this early saint: an intimacy with Jesus that we can only find on the Cross. If we think back to the conversation in the Gospel, we notice that Dismas calls upon Jesus by name, asking to be remembered in the Kingdom personally by Jesus. It is an intimacy that we, in our humanity, should know all too well, for it is when we are on the Cross with Jesus that we enter into our most intimate moments with Him. And, in turn, our Lord promises us not only the fact that He will remember us, but guarantees us that we will be with Him throughout our struggles to the glory promised by Him. The true intimacy that we search for all our lives is portrayed right in front of us as we look at our Lord on the Cross. The same intimacy is felt by those who love Him when we celebrate the Paschal Mystery: presenting ourselves with Him on Golgotha, and touching Him like the Doubting Apostle on that first Easter Sunday when we accept those sublime gifts of bread and wine which are, in all reality, His True Presence: the Body, Blood, Soul and Divinity of God Himself.

Something that struck me as important as we reflect upon the two thieves crucified along with Jesus is something that we really do not think about on a constant basis, and that is that they were both facing our Lord. Gestas, while mocking and taunting Jesus, is facing Him with anger, violence, wrath, envy and antagonism – thinking only of himself. Dismas faces inward with vexation towards Gestas and his mockery of Jesus, yet with compassion and a sorrowful heart towards “this man [who] has done nothing criminal” – thinking of someone other than himself. Archbishop Sheen has given us a wonderful quote to meditate upon as we think about the conversation Christ has with the two thieves: “If our heart is filled with the sand of our ego, how can God fill it with the fire of His Sacred Heart? If there is no ‘for sale’ sign on the selfishness of our souls, how can God take possession of them?” The sand of egoism is the quick sand that prohibits us from truly standing on the Rock of our faith, Who is Jesus, and only the fire of God’s love can burn it away. The post of the “for sale” sign on our soul MUST be the Cross, for it is there, and there alone, that God can obtain that which He purchased for so great a price. No matter which side of the Cross we happen to be on, we, at some point of our lives, must turn to face the Cross and Him who is crucified on It.

For those of us who follow Christ, we never intentionally want to be Gestas, but at times we are, especially when we fall into the mindset of society. We struggle and strive to be more like Saint Dismas each day: trying to help society recognize the errors of its way, and asking our Crucified Lord to remember us from the glory of His Kingdom. Let’s face it: Throughout our lives, we are going to be one of the two thieves! But if we are going to be thieves, let’s steal something worth stealing. Raymond Brown, one of the leading American Scripture Scholars of the Twentieth Century, noted in an essay about the Passion narrative of Luke: “The oft-used observation that the ‘good thief’ ultimately stole the Kingdom is not too far from the truth.” Let’s go after and steal the Kingdom, like Saint Dismas. Or even better yet!, let us steal the Heart of our God, who has already stolen ours.

In all things, stolen or not, thieves or not, guilty or not, we need to face the Cross. We need to be able to see the ultimate sacrifice made for us so that we can be guaranteed the same promise that the thief on the right side of Jesus received: “Amen, I say to you, today you will be with Me in Paradise.” It is only by facing the Cross that we can have a true conversation with our Lord; it is only by facing the Cross that we can gain the true intimacy that we are searching for.

Let us pray: “The Wise Thief did You make worthy of Paradise, in a single moment, O Lord. By the wood of Your Cross, illumine me as well, and save me.” Amen.

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Enjoy the journey . . .

Another Item Found

Below is another reflection I found, written for the Pittsburgh Catholic. . . This one dated from 26 September 2010.

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            The Catechism of the Catholic Church quotes Saint John Chrysostom as saying, “Not to enable the poor to share in our goods is to steal from them and deprive them of life.  The goods we possess are not ours, but theirs” (2446).  In the First Reading and the Gospel this week, we hear of the message from Amos and Jesus reminding us of our treatment to the poor.  But who are the poor?

            I would think that the majority of people would consider “the poor” to be those whose homes are run-down, those who have little money of possessions.  Some may include the homeless among this group, as well.  What we must be aware of is that there is more than one category of “poor”, and Jesus and Amos are not simply teaching us about those that we may consider “poor” in the financial sense.   We must be aware of those who are poor in other ways as well: spiritually, physically, emotionally, etc.  It is to these poor, as well, that we must extend a hand of support.

            The Church’s Catechism reminds us in paragraph 2447 of the importance of the works of mercy.  These actions, both spiritual and corporal, allow us to aid those in need so as to offer the poor – in all senses of the word – an opportunity to build themselves up.  This allows the giver to recognize the dignity of each individual as being created in the image of God, Himself – that is, the image of Divine Love.  Our readings today challenge us to not only consider how we assist the poor, but, also, how we do not assist them.

            Saint John Chrysostom offers us the motivation we need this day to recognize that the gifts we are given by God are not ours to hoard.  Our good and gracious God gives us these gifts so that they may be shared, and shared with those who need them the most.  We, however, must be willing to give what we have so that the poor “may have life and have it more abundantly” (John 10:10).  That is why Jesus came to earth, after all: that all of humanity may share in gift of Divine Life given to us by God to its fullest extent.

Are you the rich man or are you Lazarus?  Are you one of the complacents, who “shall be the first to go into exile”?  Anyone who takes their call to follow Christ seriously should be willing to extend a hand of mercy and compassion to those who need assistance.  At any point in our lives we can find ourselves as either the rich man or as Lazarus.  In the end, it is up to us to recognize that, in those times when we recognize that we are the rich man, it is our Christian duty to help those who may be the Lazarus among us through our spiritual and corporal works of mercy.  In the end, it is the fulfillment of our baptismal call to be Christ to all.

           

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Enjoy the journey . . .

Something I Found . . .

I've been trying to clean out some of the files on my computer recently. While doing this, I came across the reflection below, written for the Pittsburgh Catholic, our diocesan newspaper, for 3 October 2010. A little old, yes, but may help in a pinch for an idea. It is dated since it mentions WYD 2011 (Madrid, Spain), but not bad for a then-newly ordained priest.

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            “Increase our faith” (Luke 17:5).  This sounds like a very simple request.  For those of us who yearn to follow Christ faithfully in our everyday lives, we know that this request has many complications behind it.  Yet, throughout our lives, this seems to be a reoccurring prayer.

            The Catechism of the Catholic Church reminds us that “faith is an entirely free gift that God makes to man” (162).  However, like any gift that is given to us, to keep it in pristine condition, we must be willing to work at keeping our faith.  Otherwise, we could lose it in a heartbeat.  This why we come to Mass: to nourish our faith through the Word of God (who is Christ, Himself) and through our participation in the Eucharist; this is why we do works of charity: to increase the faith not only found in ourselves, but in others, as well.

            Often in our lives, we can be like the person in the first reading from Habakkuk, who cries out to the Lord in our pain, our fear, our desperation.  However, we know that “the just one, because of his faith, shall live” (Hab. 2:4).  We have hope in the Lord; we have faith in the Lord!  But we can only hold on to this gift of faith only if we are willing to work at it.  Like most gifts from God, we can only receive what He is willing to give to us if we possess hearts and minds that are open to the workings of His Spirit. 

            Again, the Catechism points out to us that if we are willing to work at maintaining and improving our gift of faith, we must be willing to allow our faith to be situated in three areas: “it must be ‘working through charity,’ abounding in hope, and rooted in the faith of the Church” (162).  On top of these three areas, however, we must be vigilant in asking the Lord to increase our faith.  This has to be the desire of our hearts if this is to truly be our prayer.  It is only when this is our prayer, worked through charity, abounding in hope and rooted in Christ, can we truly be the messengers – the evangelizers – God calls us to be.

            In a little over nine months, thousands of pilgrims from around the world will gather with the Holy Father in Madrid, Spain, for the 26^th World Youth Day.  In this event, those faithful who are gathered will be reminded that they ought to be "Planted and built up in Jesus Christ, firm in the faith" (cf. Col 2:7).  Yet this theme is not only meant for the pilgrims, but for the Church Universal, as well. 

            The more we are rooted in the faith of Christ, the firmer we will be in our faith.  The more firm we are in our faith, the easier it is to ask God for an increase of it.  Yet, this prayer is one with many implications.  God is willing to provide the faith, if we are willing to work at our end to maintain it.  Let us “live, grow, and persevere in faith until the end” (CCC 162), for it is because of this faith that we shall live.

           

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Enjoy the journey . . .