A Lazy, Wicked Man and a Faithful Woman

In today’s gospel the master who goes on a journey returns to find one servant who has done nothing. And the first thing the man paints for us is a very rigid and ugly image of his master and accuses him of harvesting where he did not plant. Not exactly flattering, is it? This guy burns his bridges. Some people have an image of God like this that is harsh, rigid, and ugly. But God doesn’t demand human sacrifice. We do that. Our culture is addicted to demanding the pound of flesh and the blood and sweat of the poor.

The man who received one talent lived his life in fear. In his fear he only trusts in himself. The master calls him wicked – evil – for doing nothing. He didn’t do anything. Aye, there’s the problem. He failed to act. He failed to take a risk. He was apathetic and inactive. In matters of justice, if we stand idly by, there are consequences. This man is cast out in the darkness where there is weeping and wailing and grinding of teeth. Not good.

Compare this with today’s first reading. We are given a wonderful example of a woman after the heart of the Lord. She is worth far more than pearls. She is willing to use her talents and gifts in her everyday tasks… she may not obtain wool and flax or ply her hands to the spindle, but she surely does go to the store, cook meals for her family, does the laundry, washes the dishes, and many still have a full time job! Wow! Us men have it easy. Those are two full-time jobs! There are many such women in our midst who give of their time, talent, and treasure in a steady faithfulness. They are indeed pearls of great price.

The woman described reminded me of Saint Elizabeth of Hungary. This month on the 17^th we celebrate her memory. She was a woman who loved the LORD. Elizabeth lived in the 13^th century from 1207-1231. She was the daughter of the King of Hungary when she was married to Ludwig of Thuringia (in Germany). They deeply loved each other; in fact they were madly in love. Ludwig’s advisors did not like Elizabeth and told him not to marry her. But Ludwig said: “I would rather cast away a mountain of gold than give her up!” They were so young at heart and so in love that it embarrassed some.

Sadly in their sixth year of marriage, her husband, Ludwig, died on September 11^th 1225 while on his way to join one of the Crusades. Elizabeth was devastated, but she did not despair.

She was a good woman, fervent in prayer and her faith. She was always generous to the needy and poor. Elizabeth set about building hospitals and cared for nearly one thousand poor and hungry each day at the castle gates. Her husband’s family looked down on her for what they considered the squandering of the royal treasures. They ridiculed her and threw her out of the palace. However, when her husband’s allies returned she was reinstated, since her son was legal heir to the throne.

She chose a life of faith and service, and with the spiritual direction of a Franciscan friar, she led a life of prayer, sacrifice and service to the poor and sick. Seeking to become one with the poor, she wore simple clothing.

In 1228 Elizabeth joined the Secular Franciscan Order, spending the remaining few years of her life caring for the poor in a hospital which she founded in honor of St. Francis. Elizabeth’s health declined, and she died in 1231.

In her short life Elizabeth manifested such great love for the poor and suffering that she has become the patroness of Catholic charities and of the Secular Franciscan Order. And she was canonized four years after her death.

Elizabeth took her worldly goods, spiritual treasures, and talents and placed them at the service of her neighbor and she never went without—for it is in giving that we receive!

So today we have before us the example of a lazy, wicked servant and a faithful woman.

Whose example will we follow?

ALL SOULS DAY

All Souls Day

On November 1^st we celebrate All Saints, but November 2 we celebrate All Souls Day. But why celebrate?


“Dare we hope that all be saved?” Asked Hans Urs von Balthasar.


St. Paul wrote to Timothy, “First of all, then, I ask that supplications, prayers, petitions, and thanksgivings be offered for everyone....

“This is good and pleasing to God our savior, who wills everyone to be saved and to come to knowledge of the truth. For there is one God. There is also one mediator between God and the human race, Christ Jesus, himself human, who gave himself as ransom for all.”


God our savior…wills everyone to be saved and to come to knowledge of the truth.

This is the good news we live and proclaim. May we continually pray for all people, our loved ones, and, yes, even our enemies.

And we pray for the living and for the dead. And the dead? Yes, even the dead. We cannot put limits on God’s love and mercy. His Mercy endures forever. The Father in Luke 15 proclaims: My son was dead but has come back to life. We must rejoice!

For what can separate us from the love of Christ? Even time and space? God is eternal, so even if a loved one died without a definitive faith, we trust that God, in his mercy, can allow for mercy outside of time and space. For there are those whose faith is known to God alone, and who are we to judge our neighbor and condemn anyone to the flames of hell.

In the words of St. James: “Merciless is the judgment on the man who has not show mercy; but mercy triumphs over judgment.”

“Who has directed the spirit of the LORD, or instructed him as his counselor? (Isaiah 40:13-14). We entrust those who have died to the mercy of God.

In Paul’s letter to the Romans, he wrote of our hope: “Hope does not disappoint, because the love of God has been poured out into our hearts through the Holy Spirit that has been given to us.

“For Christ, while we were still helpless, died at the appointed time for the ungodly. Indeed, only with difficulty does one die for a just person, though perhaps for a good person one might even find courage to die.

“But God proves his love for us in that while we were still sinners Christ died for us. How much more then, since we are now justified by his Blood, will we be saved through him from the wrath.

“Indeed, if, while we were enemies, we were reconciled to God through the death of his Son, how much more, once reconciled, will we be saved by his life. Not only that, but we also boast of God through our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom we have now received reconciliation” (Romans 5:5-11).

Saint Paul prays for the soul of a deceased fellow believer: "May the Lord grant mercy to the family of Onesiphorus because he often gave me new heart and was not ashamed of my chains. But when he came to Rome, he promptly searched for me and found me. May the Lord grant him to find mercy from the Lord on that day. And you know very well the services he rendered in Ephesus” (2 Tim. 1:16-18; 4:19).

Paul ends the letter by stating: "Greet…the family of Onesiphorus” (2 Tim.4:19). It is clear that Onesiphorus has died, and Paul is not only praying for him, but also wants to comfort the family.

As Saint Ambrose said: “We have loved them in this life; let us not abandon them in death.”

Let us proclaim the hope of this faith through our very lives. May we love others into the love of God.

And may God have mercy on us all.

To Mask or Demask? That is the Question....

TRICK OR TREAT?

Should we simply wear masks or should we become saints?

All too often life today seems to be totally focused on the externals, on the attractiveness of someone, their popularity, and someone can now be famous for simply being famous.

Where are the real selves out there? What does it mean to be real in such a plastic world?

Fr. Louis Merton, more widely known simply as Thomas Merton, the Benedictine monk in the Cistercian Abbey at Gethsemani Abbey in Kentucky wrote at length about this issue in the 1950s and 1960s.

In 1966 Merton wrote “Perhaps our society will be wrecked because it is so completely taken up with [the] externals and has no grasp of [the] inner dimension of life."

Dogs and cats, horses, trees and flowers, stars and planets – all of these beautiful creations of God are what they are because they fulfill their nature by being who and what they are and what they were created to be!

The way human beings fulfill their nature and the way we excel in beauty and truth is that we are called to holiness. What does this mean? What does the call to holiness mean? What does it mean to be a saint?

Our sanctity—our holiness depends upon our willingness to be ourselves. Merton wrote that “to be a saint means to be oneself.” Therefore one must first discover our “true self.”

Now we can all wear masks from time to time. But we are only fooling ourselves, aren’t we?

But being holy being a saint being our true selves also requires us to share in the work of God to be co-creators, since we are in fact created in the image of God.

Masks please others—we can make others happy by being someone else or being who they want us to be. But we will be miserable and we won’t be ourselves and others will likely pick up on it.

If we want to be the false self, we may well want to live outside of God’s will and god’s love—though we may not  even realize this.

The Pharisees wanted to be little gods among what many of them considered the poor rabble of Israel and the religious leaders of Jesus’ time believed that they were above the common folk, even though they may have not have even realized it.

Sin is Latin word which means “without”. Think about it. Without what? Without God? Without Truth? Without Grace? Without our true self – outside of reality, living without reality, dwelling in a false world, a false reality, indeed, a false self.

There is a certain danger with the false self. If we get too close to a fire, our mask we wear will likely burn up—catching fire and exploding in our face and burn up.

Prayer is where we place ourselves in the presence of the flame of God’s love? All that is false will be burned off. So if pray—really pray—allow our false selves to be burnt away, letting the mask melt away, letting the glow of God’s Grace shine forth from our face like Moses coming down the mountain, of Jesus himself when he was transfigured before Peter, James and John.

But if we avoid prayer, if we avoid change, if we resist conversion, or perhaps worse, if we pray like some, where we “say” prayers, we merely talk at God and we do all the talking, but there is neither inner change nor a dropping of the masks that we proudly wear or unknowingly wear.

[Merton again writes:] The true inner self must be drawn up like a jewel from the bottom of the sea, rescued from confusion and the trivial.”

Even our discovery of God is an illusion. God discovers us. God comes down from heaven in search of us. God finds us and God wants us for us to remove our masks so that [He can and] we can remove our masks and discover our true selves and then we discover the true image of God within ourselves and allow God to see His Son in ourselves that is true prayer and true conversion.

This self-emptying—this dropping of our false self and allowing the diamond in the rough to be cleansed, transformed and polished by God takes place in prayer and through prayer.

Placing ourselves in the hands of God, becoming holy does not involve first the externals, but an inner rebirthing – being born again – as Christ told Nicodemus (Jn. 3).

What is that—to be born again? To once again become our true selves—a new, fresh start and the false self – die and the mask must be removed and discarded.

Paul Tillich wrote: “The courage to be” is in direct opposition to us trying to be this that or being this person or acting like so and so.

Do we really need titles?

I have a degree, but big whoop. I do not demand that you call me “Master” or “Professor”.

I am a teacher, but do not demand that my students call me “Rabbi” or “teacher”.

I am the father to my sons, but I do not demand that they call me “Father”.

St. Paul called himself the father of many Christian communities, but he didn’t demand to be called “father”.

There is only one who is Master, Father, Rabbi, Teacher: God.

So what’s the point? That is the point.

We humble ourselves and God will exalt us. If we empty ourselves God will fill us with life.

If we remove our masks, then God will reveal to us our true selves.

And we will no longer need masks, for we will have become our true selves.

We will become who we are called to be.

We will be happy.

We will be Holy.

We will be saints.  

We will simply be.

The Huckleberries in our Midst October 23, 2011

He looked like Huckleberry Hound, to be honest.  He was an unshaven character and his five o’clock shadow looked well past midnight, the loose skin of his jaws drooping and dangling. His clothes were shabby, shoes well-worn on the heels and in the toes; he always wore a ratty sports coat; in the winter his wraps made him look like a character from a Charles Dicken’s novel; and he had an unusual smell of mold.

I also knew this man from Church. He was a faithful mass-goer. In fact, he went to daily mass. As a young boy we began each school day with Mass and I had seen him for years at church. He would come into church, bless himself with the holy water, make his way down the aisle, genuflect, kneel and lean forward on the pew as if he was crawling into his heavenly Father’s lap and hugging him around the neck. His faith was visible. And when he came forward for communion, he always received communion on the tongue and returned to his pew and devoutly prayed, the intensity of his thanksgiving obvious. This man seemed to live his life as an alien among his fellow man.

He was also a regular customer at the Pancake Palace. He drove an old blue two-door 1967 Chrysler that was rusty along the fenders and underside; the tires were underinflated and the left turn signal was always on, eternally stuck and it blinked red wherever he went, even if he was going straight or turning right. You could see him coming down the street, he leaned to the left in his driver’s seat and he never broke 20 miles per hour; traffic behind him was bumper to bumper as he cruised into the Pancake Palace parking lot. With his eternal left turn signal on, it was a good thing he always turned left into the parking lot. He’d creep through the parking lot and usually park in the last parking slot on the south side of the building.

He smoked a cigar most of the time when he came into the restaurant. He always sat on the last stool at the counter. He ordered decaf coffee and then usually ordered the blue plate special of the day. He didn’t bother anyone and made no nuisance.  However, I never knew his name. We just called him Huckleberry Hound. He would speak to me as I was sweeping the floor or cleaning a table or washing the windows, and let me know I was doing a good job, but that was about it. That and his usual nod with the words, “God bless.”

In today’s first reading from Exodus, God is clear that we “shall not molest or oppress an alien, for you were once aliens yourselves in the land of Egypt…. You shall not wrong any widow or orphan. If ever you do wrong them and they cry out to me, I will surely hear their cries.” I know there are times when I just feel like this world is such an alien place and not my true home. And I know that still, today, we are all aliens here, for our true homeland is in heaven.

But aside from spiritual alienation, many of our ancestors were aliens in the U.S., weren’t they? Mine were. We can think of the tens of thousands of Irish, German, Italian immigrants who came here in the 1840s through the 1900s. America would not be such a great nation if they had been rejected or turned away then.

So whatever became of Huckleberry Hound? Well, it turns out that he was the son of German immigrants who had come to the states in the late 1800s. But he was very eccentric and chose to live very simply, perhaps so affected by the depression era that he lived with a very conservative view of money and the like. He certainly did not put on airs — or deodorant.

What we do know is that when he died at the age of 90 in the late 1980s, much to the surprise of many in town, he was identified as an entrepreneur of the prominent business and it was revealed that he was a millionaire. He was a widower and had no children. In his will he left a lot of money to charitable organizations and he left at large sum of money to the Church.

I was an altar server when he died. I recall his funeral. There were very few people who came. But I was glad I was there. And I have never forgotten him or what he taught me: never judge by appearances.

This man was the face of God obscured by his unshaven face and smelly coat. Yet he was an alien in our midst, a man with a story that was unfortunately never heard—at least until now. He died alone and was buried in the shadows of the cemetery, although he was a faithful Catholic who no doubt had heard the gospel and tried to live it in the best way he could everyday of his life.

I never heard him judge another human being; he loved God with his whole heart and soul, and his final act of gifting the church was so that others might know the love of God that he had known.
And even though others may not have loved him, let alone even known him, he was loved by God.

And so are you.

May we learn to give as generously as did this little man who looked like Huckleberry Hound.

A Mother's Love Without Borders

A Desperate Love Without Borders

Gospel Mt 15:21-28 

At that time, Jesus withdrew to the region of Tyre and Sidon.
And behold, a Canaanite woman of that district came and called out, "Have pity on me, Lord, Son of David! My daughter is tormented by a demon."

But Jesus did not say a word in answer to her.

Jesus' disciples came and asked him, "Send her away, for she keeps calling out after us."
He said in reply, "I was sent only to the lost sheep of the house of Israel."

But the woman came and did Jesus homage, saying, "Lord, help me."

He said in reply, "It is not right to take the food of the children and throw it to the dogs."

She said, "Please, Lord, for even the dogs eat the scraps that fall from the table of their masters."
Then Jesus said to her in reply, "O woman, great is your faith! Let it be done for you as you wish." And the woman's daughter was healed from that hour.

 A Desperate Love Without Borders

Did I just hear what I read? Jesus ignores a desperate woman with a demon possessed child and then he says, “It is not right give the children’s food to the dogs.” At first glance, this story might seem demeaning to women; she was ignored, pushed away, and was considered no more than a dog. Jesus disturbs us with his actions and his words today.

Jesus continues on his journey north until he is at the border near Tyre and Sidon surrounded by Gentiles. The disciples likely had no idea where he was going or why he was heading north into Gentile territory. I’m sure they thought Jesus was out of bounds!

The Canaanite woman approaches Jesus as he moves along the border. One can imagine the hostility between the Jews and the Canaanites; it was like the rancor between Jews and Palestinians today. As Jesus walks along the border near Tyre and Sidon, the woman calls him Lord and Son of David.

But Jesus represented all that the Canaanites despised. One can almost see a showdown Jesus and his disciples are on one side of the border while the Canaanites are on the other side – with the poor woman and her possessed daughter caught up in the ugly war of political and theological differences, trapped between two worlds, likely cast away by her own people because of her possessed daughter, hence her reason for dwelling at the border of her country.

Jesus was her last great hope. Yet Jesus ignores her cries. Jesus’ silence must have been deafening! Then Jesus’ disciples add insult to injury; they are desperate to get rid of her! “Send her away! She’s embarrassing us. You can’t have riff-raff following you around. You have a godly reputation to keep. Pretty soon all the gentiles will want to follow you and have a share in the kingdom of God.”

She couldn’t win, she was despised by everyone. She was completely abandoned. She had thrown herself upon the mercy of the Lord God only to hear nothing. But Jesus’ silence and his disciples’ ugliness did not deter her from calling upon the Lord!

        Imagine this woman’s desperation. We do not have a lot of information about her, but sorrow filled her life. Her daughter had gone to the dark side of demonic possession. One also wonders where her husband was in all of this. Perhaps he had abandoned her as a result of the nuisance of a troublesome daughter and all the difficulty she caused their marriage. Or maybe the woman was a widow and had no one to rely on. Her life and that of her daughter must have been as desperate as we can imagine! Lack of financial means, emotional pain, fear and exhaustion! And now spiritual abandonment! The worst thing imaginable.

        And yet in this woman’s desperation she keeps getting pushed away! She is longing to belong, she is longing for happiness, and is will do anything for her daughter – even seek the God of Israel. She throws herself on the ground in front of Jesus and begs for mercy, but he tells her he is on a mission to the lost sheep of Israel.

        Certainly one of the disciples should have been troubled by the way Jesus was treating this woman. Or was he trying to get their attention by acting like them?

        Jesus then says, “It is not right to throw the food of the children to the dogs.” So now she is reduced to a dog.

        Maybe it was a common cliché tossed around like “It is not right to take the wealth of the rich and throw it to the poor” or “The poor are poor because they lack morals,” or “America is for Americans.”

It is clear that the disciples did not want Jesus crossing into any unfriendly territories, or going into the wrong neighborhoods or, God forbid, crossing any borders.

        Yet Jesus’ mere presence along the border of Tyre and Sidon is teaching his disciples that all territories and lands are the Lord’s and all peoples are called into the Kingdom of God. It is the good news that never grows old.

        Yet there are borders that we put up between ourselves and the Lord. We may think we know we have all the answers, we think that certain people are not good enough, we may consider certain attitudes tolerable or acceptable, or we may be guilty of placing ourselves first when others are clearly in more need. Or we may have preconceived notions of who God is or believe that one can only be a real Christian if one has a particular socio-political or theological view. Or what I see so much of today is the idea that one has to be perfect before one can be a Catholic or a Christian. How sad! Christ came ot call the unworthy – and that includes all of us!

        A closer look at this wonderful Canaanite woman reveals to us an example of a Mother’s love for her children. A love that protects at all cost, even to the point of ridicule. “Lord, even the dogs eat the scraps that fall from the table of their masters.”

       The woman was not distracted from her mission: saving her daughter from the demon. This Gentile woman fulfilled her mission, because of her boldness in faith, love for her child, and trust in a merciful God. And she was willing to even accept the scraps from the table of the master, all for the love of another human being.

        The woman’s persistence shows that Jesus is accessible to all people–even those along the borders, on the fringes of society, the marginalized. 

There are still Canaanites in our midst: outsiders who some people would rather ignore and send away, and women and men who are bearing great family burdens, and those who have suffered great losses, yet still come to church, kneel in the pew and remain faithful to the Lord, despite their doubts and questions, they still cling to their faith.

        Jesus dared cross established borders that his disciples wanted to keep, and ministered to the one who called upon him in faith. And the woman found acceptance across the forbidden border.

        We are called to be like Christ.

Jesus allowed this woman to enter his world.

This one act changed everything.

Jesus is changed by the encounter with this woman of faith.

And so are his disciples.

And so are we.

All are welcome to enter the House of the Lord! All are invited to His table!

This woman turns Jesus' ministry to the gentiles, the non-Jews. She not only wants to enter the House of Israel, but she wants to sit at the table of the Lord, and is willing to accept the lowest place in the house – even if it is as a desperate dog.

The woman only wanted a crumb of bread from the Master’s table.

She was desperate to belong.

She was desperate for the Lord.

How desperate are we?

The Owner of the Vineyard (Matthew 20:1-16) and the Prodigal Father (Luke 15:11-32)

The Owner of the Vineyard (Matthew 20:1-16) and the Prodigal Father (Luke 15:11-32)

Today, we hear the Word of God through the Prophet Isaiah: “My thoughts are not your thoughts, nor are your ways my ways, says the LORD. As high as the heavens are above the earth, so high are my ways above your ways and my thoughts above your thoughts (Isaiah 55:6-9).

These words could not be made more clear in Jesus' (in)famous parable of the Owner of the Vineyard from chapter 20 of Matthew’s Gospel.

I am not a scripture scholar, though it is my duty and passion to ponder the Word of God, breaking it open, and sharing the fruits of prayerful reflection with all who hear my homilies, read my blog or attend my presentations. With that being said, I do not believe I have ever heard or read anywhere that would connect the two characters in these two parables: the owner of the vineyard and the father of the two lost sons.

The first parable is from Matthew’s gospel and his audience was primarily Jewish and/or a Jewish converts to Christianity. When they heard the parable, they no doubt found themselves as the laborers who had been there since dawn enduring the heat of the day. Then the Gentiles who now are gifted with the promise of Abraham seem to have gotten away with something. It just doesn’t seem fair that someone who labors for one hour should receive the same as the one who labored for 12 hours.

The parable of the Father with two sons is from Luke’s chapter about the good shepherd. Luke’s audience was primarily Gentile converts and Greek Christians who are learning the art of healing and reconciliation as exemplified by the life of Jesus.

What I propose is that the two men are related. Whether or not they were brothers or cousins is beside the point; the two men are living the life of the kingdom. The owner of the vineyard is the great equalizer. He seeks to bring in all who are lost or forsaken. Note that the owner of the vineyard makes five different trips to the marketplace in search of laborers for his vineyard.

The Father of the Prodigal Son, we will recall, also went out each day to look for his son. And then he breaks with tradition and all proper decorum and runs to his youngest son, welcoming him home – even thought this son had regarded his father as dead when he asked for his share of the estate “that should come to me” once his father was dead.

These generous forgivers are to be our example of how we should live our lives. These are not mere nice stories to pass down in a lovely liturgy, but are hard core realities that must be lived once we hear the word, “Go in the peace of Christ” or “Go in peace to love and serve the Lord.” How else are we to love the Lord but by loving our neighbors, no matter whether we like them or if they deserve it or even receive it. It is our call to be Christ-like, who loved us while we were yet sinners.

All we have been given is gift; materially and spiritually, all is gift. Let us then gift one another in the same manner as the Lord has, for, He is, after all, the Owner of the Vineyard.

May the Lord grant us the grace to hear this message; then may we have the courage to live it.

God's Mercy is not Ours to Keep; It Must Be Given Away.

When I was a boy growing up in Vincennes I loved to throw rocks in the lazy Wabash River. I loved to find the biggest rocks and hurl them as far as I could. But that was just half the fun. I wanted to see how big of a splash they would make and then, best of all, was watching the ripple effect of the stone breaking through the water and seeing just how far the ripples would extend.

         

In today’s gospel, then Jesus told the story of the unforgiving servant. That story should disturb us. Let's look at this man. He was so quick to beg his master for mercy and forgiveness on his own behalf. And his master wiped his debt away, no questions asked, cancelled it completely. Yet as soon as the man was forgiven his debt and is set free and unburdened he finds someone who is below him and nearly chokes him to death, and demands that he pay back a small amount of money.

Who is this man? Is he not in some ways the man lurking within each of us? Have we not all played the role of hypocrite, played the double standard game? How many of us have people in our lives who we really do not want to forgive? (pause) Yes, that relative you’re thinking of, you have to forgive him or her. That neighbor who you’d wish would move, yes, you have to forgive him or her.

Mercy and Forgiveness is all part of our baptismal call!

God's mercy is not ours to keep; it must be given away.

All over the United States – and all over the world – this gospel is echoing forth from pulpits everywhere. This gospel was not picked to coincide with 9/11. No, this gospel is the gospel for the day. Indeed, this IS the Gospel Message for every day. Always. Mercy. Forgiveness. Compassion.

Just imagine the ripple of mercy and forgiveness if we were to live the gospel?!

Ten years ago 19 foreign men with a warped image of God and a grudge against our government decided to act in unison in a horrible way. Just think – if 19 men could change the world so quickly, what if only 19 of us decided to do something beautiful for God?

Soon after the 9/11 attacks all we could hear was Usama bin Laden's name. I decided that every time I heard his name, I would say the name of Jesus, and then pray for bin Laden and all our enemies. I wish I would have written about this and spoken about this following the attacks, but I did not. I regret this. But I did say Jesus every time I heard bin Laden's name.

I also prayed with my wife and sons every night that our enemies might have a change of heart.

But I also prayed that we as a nation might not regard every Muslim as a terrorist or regard every Afghani or Iraqi citizen as a member of Al-Queda. I pray that we might see them as fellow human beings, and not disregard their humanity, of which some have, regarding them as the enemy, terrorists, or worse.

Then back in May of this year I remember the night that President Obama announced that Usama bin Laden had been killed. I sat on the couch with my sons in a stunned silence. I was mortified by the giddiness of certain reporters and then I watched as hundreds and thousands of people began to celebrate in the streets of New York and Washington and other cities. I was grieved that so many people would rejoice so much in the death of one man.

If you will recall, it was a week after Easter, but did we see people dancing in the streets at the news of Christ's Resurrection from the death? It was also Mercy Sunday, yet did we find mercy in the streets that night? And Pope John Paul II had just been beatified that day as well. I wonder what Pope John Paul would have said?

Pope Benedict sent a message that we, as Christians, should never rejoice in the death of anyone, not even an enemy.

In the Hebrew Scriptures, Ezekiel writes: “God does not desire the death of the sinner, but that he turn to God and live.” No matter what bin Laden did or inspired others to do, we are called to forgive and pray for our enemies.

I cannot change the gospel. The gospel must change us.

This past week on September 9^th we celebrated the memory of a different type of foreigner who came to the Americas with a plan to bring the love and compassion of God. His name? Peter Claver.

Peter Claver was a Spanish priest who understood that love of God is expressed through love of neighbor, in the distribution of medicine and food and most of all compassion.

The young Jesuit left his homeland forever in 1610 to be a missionary in the colonies of the New World. He sailed into Cartagena (now in Colombia), a rich port city along the Caribbean. The slave trade had already been established in the Americas for nearly 100 years, and Cartagena was the chief slave market. Ten thousand slaves poured into the port each year after crossing the Atlantic from West Africa under conditions so foul and inhuman that an estimated one-third of the passengers died in transit. Although the practice of slave-trading was condemned by Pope Paul III, it continued to flourish.

When Claver arrived he declared himself "the slave of the Negroes forever."

As soon as a slave ship entered the port, Peter Claver moved into its infested hold to minister to the ill-treated and exhausted passengers. After the slaves were herded out of the ship like chained animals and shut up in nearby yards to be gazed at by the crowds and put on the auction block, Peter Claver continued to assist them. With the help of interpreters he gave basic instructions and assured his brothers and sisters of their human dignity and God's saving love. During the 40 years of his ministry, Claver instructed and baptized an estimated 300,000 slaves.

He became a moral voice against slavery and lodged with the slaves in their quarters.

He often said, "We must speak to them with our hands before we try to speak to them with our lips."

“He had a steady confidence that God would care for them and, not his least worry were the slave owners whom he did not deem beyond the mercy of God. They also had souls to be saved, no less than the slaves. To the masters and slave owners Claver appealed for physical and spiritual justice, for their own sakes no less than for that of their slaves.” (Leonard Foley, O.F.M.)

Whatever we do has a ripple effect, whether we toss a rock into the river, serve the poorest of the poor, or forgive an enemy. Everything we do has an eternal effect.

The good news is that you and I are the ones who have been forgiven … and we are to seek to not merely understand others, but accept others, while inviting them to a life of holiness. We are the ones we are waiting for... We are the ones who can bring peace to our troubled world, one person at a time, just like Peter Claver did.

Oh, would to God that we might live our faith and love, yes, love our enemies, then we would stop keeping a record of wrongs and counting how many times we have to forgive others. Can you imagine the hatred that Peter Claver could have had for the slave-traders and owners? Yes, his anger would have been justified, but he sought to win them over with his words and actions of love among the slaves and the slaveholders.

In today's gospel, Peter asks Jesus, "Lord, if my brother sins against me, how often must I forgive? As many as seven times?" Forgiving someone seven times was very generous. Three times was the limit to forgiveness in Jesus’ day. So Peter figured that he’d multiply that by two and he’d be good, and just for good measure he added one more to make it a beautifully holy number of seven.

Jesus answered, “I say to you, not seven times but seventy-seven times.” 

This was not what Peter was expecting to hear.

Seventy-seven times? Imagine if we began to count the times we forgave others. And once we got to 77 times, then we might try for 7 X 70 times, or 490 times. I assure you, by the time you got to 490 times forgiving others, we would have likely stopped keeping count and forgiving would have become a habitual virtue.

Forgiveness, mercy, and peace begins with each one of us and we can change the world for the better.... beginning right here. And we will not be armed with box-cutters or bombs, but we must first allow ourselves to be disarmed by the love of God, our hands ever open, not clutching bricks of bigotry, rocks of racism, grenades of grudges, pistols of prejudice, or missiles or mayhem, but opening our hands and reaching out in forgiveness and mercy, where we will lose count of who we have forgiven and how many times.

May we throw our rocks and bricks of unforgiveness into the ocean of God’s love and allow the ripples of mercy to wash over us as we learn to forgive one another 77 times over and over and over again.

God's mercy is not ours to keep; it must be given away. Amen.