Showing posts with label Homilies; Divine Mercy; Forgiveness; Repentance. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Homilies; Divine Mercy; Forgiveness; Repentance. Show all posts

Sunday, September 26, 2021

Homily for 26th Sunday of Ordinary Time

Homily for the
26th Sunday of Ordinary Time

Sept. 26, 2021
Collect
St. Joseph Church, New Rochelle, N.Y.                           

“O God, you manifest your almighty power above all by pardoning and showing mercy…” (Collect).

When you were young, after some mishap befell you as a consequence of something you said or did, did your mother or a teacher ever exclaim to you, “See!  God punished you!”?

Many of us were brought up in the fear of God, God the all powerful, God the almighty.  We thought he was always watching to catch us in wrongdoing.  Many of us may have thought that every mistake, every fault, every shortcoming was a sin, even things over which we had no control.  I can’t tell you how many people confess, “Father, I missed Mass when I was sick”—which certainly isn’t a sin.  But if we believed God was watching to catch us, ready to punish us, if not here with some form of suffering, then hereafter with condemnation to eternal hellfire, “where their worm does not die, and the fire is not quenched” (Mark 9:48)—then we were always on edge, always afraid of God.

Fallen Angels in Hell (John Martin)

Pope Francis has been trying for his entire papacy, now in its 9th year, to convince us that, as he says, “The name of God is mercy.”  Actually, that’s not a new idea, a new teaching, at all.  Francis didn’t compose the Collect for today’s Mass; it’s been around for a long time.  Its focus is God’s mercy.

Yes, God is all powerful.  But his power is expressed in his mercy, his readiness to grant pardon to sinners—as royal power and presidential power can be expressed by a pardon.  God pardons real sins, not our honest mistakes, which aren’t sins; not our forgetfulness, which isn’t sinful; not even for our shortcomings in matters beyond our ability to control; these aren’t sins either.

But our real sins, our deliberate, willful choices to offend God or our neighbor—these God is ready to pardon if we’ll only say, “I’m sorry.  I want to do better.  I want to be filled with the Spirit of God, like the 70 Israelite elders in the desert (Num 11:25-29).  I want to be kinder, truthful, a better spouse, a better worker, a more generous and helpful neighbor, less judgmental,” and so on.  God is merciful.  He forgives readily,  happily.  That’s why Jesus came to us—not to condemn the world but to save it, as John’s Gospel says (3:17).


So we confidently ask God to bestow his grace upon us, to empower us to be more faithful friends of Jesus.  If we’re his friends—and he fervently desires that we will be (cf. John 15:13-15)—then we’ll inherit the kingdom of heaven with him (Collect).  God desires it, and in his mercy will make it happen as long as we consent, as long as we allow him to pardon our sins and promise to do our best to avoid them in the future—rather what Jesus was speaking of in the 2d part of today’s gospel, about casting aside anything that leads us to sin (Mark 9:43-48).

May the Spirit of God settle upon us and keep us close to our Lord Jesus Christ, whose greatest desire is to bring us to eternal life.

Sunday, November 3, 2019

Homily for 31st Sunday of Ordinary Time

Homily for the
31st Sunday of Ordinary Time

October 30, 1977
Wis 11: 22—12: 2
Luke 19: 1-10

St. Andrew, Upper Arlington, Ohio

I was a recently ordained deacon when I preached this homily.

“You are merciful for all, for you can do all things, and you overlook men’s sins, that they may repent” (Wis 11: 23).

Last Sunday and today our Mass readings have focused on sin and forgiveness.  This theme is an important one for us Christians because we are all sinners.  Only when we admit that we are sinners and repent can we be forgiven.

The reading from the Old Testament Book of Wisdom is taken from a long section which details how God punished both unbelievers and the Chosen People for their sins in the past.  Wisdom implies that men have to be obstinate sinners before God will punish them, and even then his punishment is relatively mild.  Our reading stresses that the Lord always is patient with us, allowing us time to repent of our misdeeds and return to him.  It gives a reason for his patience: his mercy is part of his creative power; he made us, and he loves us.

First, his mercy.  How do we react when someone offends us?  Usually I get angry, maybe very angry.  I may retaliate—verbally, physically, by the silent treatment, by avoiding the person who has hurt me.  In short, I lose control of my situation.  I feel a need to protect myself somehow, and my reactions dictate to me how to do that.  Only with time do my feelings subside.  If the offender asks my pardon, I may give it reluctantly, out of a sense of obligation, but even then my feelings pull me hard.

God is different—lucky for us! Although we are all offenders before him, he is no Gestapo agent ready to pounce on us at the smallest sign of rebellion on our part.  That’s how insecure people act.  Our God, the God of the Book of Wisdom, is powerful and sure.  He can do all things. He is master of what we would call feelings or reactions in ourselves.  He can be merciful toward us regardless of what we try to do to him.  He made us, and he loves us. He encourages us to repent.  He wants to forgive.  Instead of retaliating, he sends us reminders and warnings: our consciences, a word from a friend, a sacrament, a sermon, a child’s innocence, a family or business problem, who knows what…but certainly no fierce attack by all the forces of heaven and earth, followed by instant damnation.  Life’s not a divine Monopoly game where one wrong number turns up a Chance card that orders us, “Go directly to hell; do not pass GO; do not collect $200.”  God doesn’t need that sort of self-protection against us.  He shows us his power by being gracious and merciful toward us.

Second, we must repent.  Repentance isn’t just an “I’m sorry,” as important as that is.  Repentance is far more radical.  It is a conversion, a complete turnaround—which is the literal meaning of the Greek that the Bible uses.  We see our sinful state, and we reject it.  We turn around again toward God and his mercy.  The tax collector Zacchaeus is a fine example of repentance.  A gentle word from Jesus, some recognition, is all he needed.  Jesus shows us how God handles repentant sinners.  Imagine!  Jesus is so sure of the situation that he even invited himself to supper at Zacchaeus’s house.  In Jesus’ time, tax collectors were notorious for defrauding the public and making themselves rich.  Whatever the injustice involved, it was all quite legal.  Zacchaeus promises to restore what he has taken wrongly, restore it four times over, and to give half of his abundance to the poor.  Quite a conversion!  And it all results from a gentle reminder from a merciful Savior.

That same merciful Savior is speaking to us today.  If we have done something grievously offensive to him, he awaits us in the sacrament of repentance—what we usually call confession.  The Church has recently renewed this sacrament in order to enable us to turn around our lives toward Christ more easily.  If we find so-called “ordinary” or “venial” sin in ourselves, the part and parcel of our daily lives, Jesus still invites us to repent, but he also reverses the hospitality between Zacchaeus and himself: he invites us this morning to join his sacred meal and to give thanks with him to a merciful Father.