Christmas Homily 2014

          Dorothy Day once wrote that “It is no use saying that we are born two thousand years too late to give room to Christ…Christ is always with us, asking for room in our hearts”.

            Maybe if we don’t think about Christ asking for room in our hearts it’s because we don’t recognize Christ when he comes to us. And yet, Christ comes to us in every person we meet, and everyone who is a part of our lives. Christ is there knocking on our hearts, asking us to make room for him. If we have a hard time seeing Christ in everyone we know, and in everyone we come in contact with, maybe it’s because we think of the Christmas story we just heard as an event from long ago in far away Bethlehem.

           

            But if we realize that the story is our story too, we might be able to see Christ when he asks for room in our hearts. We have all been gifted in some way to be welcoming to the Christ in others.

            Maybe you are like Joseph - protecting the weak and the powerless who need us to care for them and defend them.

            Maybe you are like the donkey that carried Mary – lightening the burden of someone who is ill, or in a strange and unknown place.

            Maybe you are like the unnamed “inn-keeper” who was able to provide shelter and warmth to folks who otherwise would have been at the mercy of the outside world.

            Maybe you are like the shepherds – willing to leave your routine and your everyday life and be spontaneous in order to experience the great and marvelous things that God is doing for us.

            Maybe you are like the angel – announcing the “good news” of our salvation and giving glory to God – and proclaiming peace to everyone around you.

            Maybe you are like Mary, who said “yes” to what God asked of her, and to bring Christ into the world – to give life to Jesus and his kingdom and to share him with the rest of the world.

          

            The Christmas story is OUR story. The Christmas message is the message of hope and peace and joy for all of us – if we are willing to make it real and alive in our hearts. Christ is always with us, asking us to make room in our hearts.

Inequality is the root of social evil

Justice Perspective – June 2014

          Just about a month ago, Pope Francis created quite a stir when he sent out a tweet that said “Inequality is the root of social evil”. Two things happened: first, this was re-tweeted over 17,000 times; and second, there was a great hue and cry from some corners about the over-simplification of economics by the Pope, or at least that he was confusing.

          To put this tweet in perspective, we have to look at the context of where this succinct line came from. This was not a sentence just made up for the Pope’s Twitter account (@Pontifex). Actually, it was the last line from one of the paragraphs of his Apostolic Exhortation, The Joy of the Gospel, which he issued last fall.

          The relevant paragraph reads like this: “As long as the problems of the poor are not radically resolved by rejecting the absolute autonomy of markets and financial speculation and by attacking the structural causes of inequality, no solution will be found for the world’s problems or, for that matter, to any problems. Inequality is the root of social ills.”

          All kinds of recent studies have shown how income inequality is a problem around the world. Just recently, a study from the Organization of Economic Cooperation and Development showed that the income gap is widening in many developed nations. The United States, far from being shielded from this problem, is actually one of three countries that have the largest inequality (along with Turkey and Israel).

          There are a number of economic reasons for this growing disparity and inequality, but all these developments cannot be explained by economics alone. Consider how insightful Pope Francis is to identify the “absolute autonomy of markets” as one of the “structural causes” of inequality – the problem is the prevalent attitude that markets should be the driving force of human behavior, not morality.

          Some commentators have tried to show how the Pope’s comments are just simply untrue, since there is, in their minds, so much regulation of business these days. But they miss the point – the absolute autonomy of markets has less to do with rules and regulations and a lot more to do with how we relate to one another. In a “market driven” economy, right and wrong are determined not by ethics and morals or the common good, but by what best serves the “economy” and the well-being of the rich and powerful.

          This is what the Pope means when he says in another section of The Joy of the Gospel that there is a “dictatorship of an impersonal economy” that lacks any truly human purpose. The financial systems, he says, rule behavior rather than serve the common good. This is why the earnings of a wealthy minority grow exponentially and widen the gap that separates the poorer majority from prosperity.

          And how complicit are we in this whole process? How easily do we excuse the unethical actions of the “market” as just the cost of doing business? When businesses lay off workers do we see it as just a necessary part of increasing profits? Or do we recognize the calamity and disruption that it will cause for the families involved? Do we wink and smile at the shrewdness of unscrupulous lenders, Wall Street investors, and those who prey on those who are more desperate?

          Inequality is the root of social ills –and will only begin to be solved when each of us begins to support the person and the common good and not the “market”.

A Reason for our Hope

6^th Sunday of Easter – Cycle A

Homily

         

(Acts 8:5-8, 14-17; Psalm 66:1-3, 4-5, 6-7, 16, 20; 1 Peter 3:15-18; John 14:15-21)

          If you were asked to, do you think you could “give an explanation to anyone who asks you for a reason for your hope”? Could you do it with “gentleness and reverence”?

          Our ordinary, daily, life gives us all kinds of opportunities for giving an account of our hope. We live today in a world that many are calling a “post-Christian” era. Experts who study that sort of thing actually have fifteen measures of non-religiosity that include not praying to God, or reading the Bible, or attending church, or considering faith an important part of their lives.

          The most recent study concluded that thirty-seven percent of Americans can be classified as “post-Christian” based on those fifteen criteria. Thirty-seven percent! We live in a world in desperate need of hope. This is why the “new evangelization” is so important – because you have hope because we know that Jesus has conquered sin and death and has sent his Spirit to be our “Advocate” – to change the world. You and I have hope because we have a vision of an end-time of fulfillment when there will be a new heaven and a new earth and the kingdom will be fully engaged in all of creation. And you and I have an obligation to share that hope with all those who struggle with hopelessness.

          In my prison ministry I go to Collins Correctional on as many Friday nights as I can, and those of us from the outside have faith-sharing conversations with the men inside. If you want a prime example of a place where hope is rare, visit a prison.  But just this Friday one of the men started talking about how easy it is to focus on the length of his bid – until he remembers that he has the promise of eternal life. “You know”, he said, “when I think of being with Jesus for all eternity, the next three years seem like nothing at all”.

          You and I also must live in a hope based on the promises of Christ – and we can hope not because we are so good at trusting, but because God is trustworthy. And the message of the trustworthiness of God is truly “Good News” – Gospel – euangelion in Greek – evangelization. We should feel compelled to share that Good News with everyone in our lives – and to do so, as the second reading reminds us – with gentleness and reverence.

          You might think that you are poorly equipped for the task of evangelization. But consider this – Philip in the first reading had no written gospel, had no catechism, had no Religious Ed or Catholic School education – he might not have even ever met Jesus in person. Yet his faith was so strong that it allowed him to go to Samaria – Samaria! – where there was such great animosity – and he witnessed so effectively that the crowds paid attention and were filled with great joy.

          What it takes is being a “Good News” person. We recently completed a program in the parish called “Good News People” – could all of those here who were part of the program please stand up. For those of you who missed out on it the past year, we’re going to run it again starting in the fall. One of the messages of the program is that we must live the gospel – we must live the good news, that if we love Jesus it has to make a difference: we need to be somehow transformed, challenged, changed.

          As St. John Chrysostom so aptly put it 1650 years ago: “There would be no need for sermons, if our lives were shining; there would be no need for words, if we bore witness with our deeds. There would be no pagans, if we were true Christians.”

          Jesus tells us that those who see him see the Father, and because he has given us the Spirit, those who see us can see Jesus – if we keep his commandments of love and witness to hope. How are you going to be Good News to others this week? You might be the only Gospel that some people will ever read.

Diakonia and the Deacon Jesus

5^th Sunday of Easter – A

Homily

(Acts 6: 1-7; Psalm 33:1-2, 4-5, 18-19; 1 Peter 2:4-9; John 14:1-12)

Note: This homily was delivered to a group of fellow deacons during the closing liturgy of our weekend retreat.

          It’s really not surprising why the reading from the Acts of the Apostles was traditionally considered to be a story about the first deacons. In the first verse, the word that is translated as the “distribution” of food is diakonia (the Greek word that gives us “deacon”). In the second verse the word that is translated as “serving” at the table is diakonein. And in the fourth verse the word that is translated as “ministry” of God’s word is diakonia.

          More recently, scholars have debated whether this episode really represents the first deacons – but if we got wrapped up in that debate today we would be missing the point of this Scripture in the context of the other readings.

          The point is that the community recognized a need and brought it to the Apostles, and those leaders of the Church also recognized the need and gathered resources in order to fill the need. Even more, what was recognized was the injustice that was underlying the problem – there was a disproportionate treatment being given to one group over another. There was, in fact, an unequal distribution of necessities in the community.

          Note that those two actions, recognizing the need and gathering resources to fill it, and eliminating the inequities that cause those needs – those are two fundamental activities of deacons that Jim identified for us on the first night. And, in fact, that IS diakonia, that is the ministry of service, that is the two feet of Catholic Social Teaching –providing direct service for those in need today, and working to eradicate the underlying causes of injustice, inequality, and inequity.

          That IS diakonia, and it is hard work – but it is what we have chosen to do. One of the reasons that it is hard work is that there is not always a clear direction, a standard set of guidelines, a tried and true process or approach to addressing needs and drive out injustice. Like Thomas, we want to know the “way”. How often we want a road map, the plan. If you’re like me, I like to have a plan in place, and I get unsettled sometimes when things change. I guess Thomas was looking for the same thing.

          But Jesus says something startling that answers Thomas’ question in an unusual way – Jesus IS the way. He is not the step-by-step direction of Google Maps, he is the way of life that answers how we are to do what we need to do. He is the model of how human life is to be lived, and, even more, the model of how to live as a deacon. The WAY that we are to be deacons is to radiate the deacon Jesus. As a deacon, we only truly find ourselves when in our prayer and our action we see ourselves, in some small way, as an icon of the one true deacon, Jesus himself.

          It is easy to get caught up in a worry like Thomas had – maybe unsure of whether we are going the right way, taking the right direction, doing everything we can to build up the Kingdom. Especially when we realize that what we do, especially to eradicate injustice, or lessen the violence in our world, or take on any long-range goal doesn’t show results right away.

          We can be doubters like Thomas – not sure if this is the right way, not sure where this whole journey will lead us, not really positive of where Jesus is going with this whole thing.

          Some time ago I came across a reflection that has been incorrectly attributed to Archbishop Oscar Romero. It was actually written by the late Bishop Ken Untener of Detroit when he was a priest. I’d like to share it with you as a closing reflection.

It helps, now and then, to step back and take a long view.

The kingdom is not only beyond our efforts, it is even beyond our vision. We accomplish in our lifetime only a tiny fraction of the magnificent enterprise that is the Lord’s work.

Nothing we do is complete, which is a way of saying that the Kingdom always lies beyond us.

No homily says all that could be said.

No prayer fully expresses our faith.

No confession brings perfection.

No pastoral visit brings wholeness.

No program accomplishes the Church’s mission.

No set of goals and objectives includes everything.

This is what we are about.

We plant the seeds that one day will grow.

We water seeds already planted, knowing that they hold future promise.

We lay foundations that will need further development.

We provide yeast that produces effects far beyond our capabilities.

We cannot do everything, and there is a sense of liberation in realizing that.

This enables us to do something, and to do it very well.

It may be incomplete, but it is a beginning, a step along the way, an opportunity for the Lord’s grace to enter and do the rest.

We may never see the end results, but that is the difference between the Master Builder and the worker.

We are workers, not Master Builders; ministers, not Messiahs.

We are prophets of a future not our own.

Peace Be With You

2^nd Sunday of Easter - Cycle A

Homily on John 20:19-31

Peace be with you!

(Response: And with your spirit!)

Amen!

            So here it was, the evening of the Resurrection, and Jesus’ disciples were all gathered in a room with the door locked because they were afraid. Jesus came and stood with them and, I am sure, startled them, but then he said, “Peace be with you”. A week later he they were in the room again, still with the doors locked, and he appeared again and said “Peace be with you.”

            And so here it is, the second Sunday of Easter, and we, the disciples of Jesus today, are gathered together. Our doors aren’t locked, but I wonder if we are any less afraid than those first disciples. Are we a Resurrection people? Are we listening to Jesus when he gives us his message of peace?

            The Gospel’s call to be a Resurrection people means that from now on, as followers of the risen Christ, we are to be at peace – first with ourselves, with God, with Jesus, with our families, with our neighbors, with everyone in the town and everyone in the church and with the whole world. From now on, we are a people of peace, a people who have peace within us, a people who shares that same greeting of peace with one another, a people who offers that peace to the whole world.

            The greeting that Jesus gives to the disciples, “Peace be with you”, echoes an earlier passage in John 14 when Jesus says at the Last Supper, “Peace I leave with you, my peace I give you. Not as the world gives do I give it to you”. The world’s idea of peace would lead us into the false ideas that stronger borders or more bombs or more military power will give us peace. No, the peace that Jesus calls us to is a peace that refers to the harmony that we experience when relationships with God, with the community and with ourselves are ordered correctly. Jesus calls us to be peacemakers and peace-builders – to create that order in relationships based on justice and right. Jesus breathed out the Spirit on those first disciples and gave them the mission of peace – and he still breathes that mission into us today.

            I was thinking about the call for us to be peace-makers and peace-builders as the canonization approached of these two Popes. For me, one aspect of both of their ministries was their commitment to peace.

            John XXIII wrote a most amazing encyclical entitled “Pacem in terris”, or “Peace on Earth”. There is a great quote from that encyclical on the front of our bulletin today. That document was written shortly after the Cuban Missile Crisis and the building of the Berlin Wall. Some of you only studied those events in history class, but some of us lived them and the fear that went along with them. But as frightening that those events might have been, John XXIII took a very optimistic tone in this writing. He focused on the kind of world that we are obliged to build as Christians – a world where peoples’ rights are respected, where governments truly have the common good as their goal and a world free from nuclear weapons where everyone who has helps those who have not – kind of the world that the Acts of the Apostles portrayed in our first reading today. One result of that encyclical is that every year since then, whoever is Pope issues a message for the World Day of Peace on January 1.

           

            Just as John XXIII saw the Berlin Wall go up, John Paul II saw it go down – and saw the end of Communism in Eastern Europe without a single shot being fired. Four years before that, John Paul gathered representatives of over 160 different religions and denominations in Assisi to pray for peace. There were not just various Christian traditions there, but Buddhists, Moslems, Jews, Hindus, Sikhs, Zoroastrians – every imaginable faith – to make the point that the desire of each religion, and the human heart, is the desire for peace. And they prayed – each in their own tradition, in their own language, all day for peace. And at the end, Pope John Paul offered a message to all the participants and to the whole world. He said, “Peace is a workshop, open to all and not just to specialists, savants and strategists. Peace is a universal responsibility: it comes about through a thousand little acts in daily life. By their daily way of living with others, people choose for or against peace.”

            Even though we hear the messages of Jesus and these two Popes, it’s very human for us to doubt that peace is possible. We read the paper or watch the news and have a hard time finding any examples of even the hint of peace. We question the possibility of peace in the world – where is the evidence that it’s possible? We wouldn’t be the first ones to doubt what we have yet to have proven to us.

            Thomas was like that. And yet, even in his doubt, Jesus offers his greeting of “Peace be with you” in Thomas’s presence. Two times Jesus shows his disciples his wounds when he gives them his peace, which I think means that Christ’s peace, the peace not of this world, comes not through violence or war or the false security of weapons, but through sharing in Jesus’ wounds, in his cross, in his non-violent suffering and his self-emptying love. When Thomas learns this, he exclaims, “My Lord and my God”. Thomas was making it clear that he was not following any false gods of power, or money, or weapons, or, the kings of this world.  Jesus is his Lord, and his mission is one of peace. Thomas accepted Jesus’ mission of peace. Thomas became a part of the Resurrection people.

Are we like the “doubting Thomas”, or the believing Thomas? Are we a Resurrection people? Are we listening to Jesus when he gives us his message of peace?

Peace be with you!

(Response: And with your spirit!)

Amen! Alleluia!!

Easter Vigil Homily - April 19, 2014

(Matthew 28:1-10) (See all the Easter Vigil readings here: http://www.usccb.org/bible/readings/041914.cfm)

         We stand at the threshold on this most holy night. We are no longer in one place, but we have not yet arrived at the other. We are at the crossroads – gathering in the night and awaiting the brilliant light of the morning, moving from darkness into light. We are at the crossing from sin into salvation, from slavery into freedom, from death into life.

          We are the women, the “two Marys” who “came to see the tomb” – filled with anxiety, and fear and uncertainty. We are unsure, and scared, and at least a little uncertain about putting our entire trust in Jesus. And even when that brilliant messenger appears, with quaking earth and rolling stone, and even though we are told, “Do not be afraid”, we go on our way, “fearful but overjoyed”.

          Until we encounter the Risen Jesus. When we encounter the Risen Jesus we see that his resurrection is not just about a glorious event of the past, but is about seemingly impossible transformations that occur in the present because of Christ’s power in the Holy Spirit. When we encounter the Risen Jesus we realize that God’s kingdom has already broken into human history.

          Jesus, there at creation, is the victor of order over chaos and light over darkness. He is the one who leads us out of our slavery and oppression – as what God did for one people Jesus now does for the salvation of every nation. Jesus, the Lord, calls us to his water, to come without money or price, to have all we need in him.

          But we are still on the threshold – God’s kingdom has broken into human history, but it is not yet complete. There is still evil and misery, and we do not deny it or turn away from it, but we refuse to surrender to their power because of our faith in the Risen Jesus. We are an Easter people, and Alleluia is our song, and Alleluia is an act of defiance in the face of evil.

          If we have encountered the Risen Jesus, we can say that God is ultimately still in charge of the universe, despite any indications to the contrary – that brutality and evil notwithstanding, at the end of the day, violence, injustice and sin will be silenced and overcome, and graciousness and gentleness as exemplified in Jesus are ultimately what lies at the root of all reality.

          We are an Easter people and we believe that truth is stronger than lies, that good is stronger than evil, that love is stronger than hate, and that life is stronger than death. 

          In just a few moments, we will renew our baptismal promises, our acknowledgement that we have died and risen with Jesus, and that we must lead a new life of who we already are – living for God in the Risen Jesus. And, like the two Marys who encountered him, we are commissioned to “go and tell” what we have experienced.

          On this holiest of nights, as we stand on the threshold between light and darkness, we encounter the Risen Jesus, and we once again become an Easter people, with Alleluia as our song.

Reduce, Reuse, Recycle – and Repent!

Justice Perspective – April 2014

            I know that there is a picture somewhere of me and some of my fellow Bishop Turner High School students digging a hole to plant a tree in celebration of the first Earth Day. That was forty-four years ago in 1970. The Vietnam War raged on, student protesters were killed by police at Kent State, and Apollo 13 abandoned its mission.

            Back then everybody drove gas-guzzling V8s, water and air was regularly polluted by industry without care or consequence, and no one really talked about “the environment”. That first Earth Day began a movement and a raising of public awareness that led to the establishment of the Environmental Protection Agency and the passage of the Clean Air and Water Act.

            We will again “celebrate” Earth Day later this month on April 22, and it should give us an opportunity to assess where we are in our relationship to God’s creation. It is probably also a perfect time to do that during Lent because we undoubtedly have some penance to do for the way that we treat the environment.

            The hard truth is that we generally live like all of the earth’s resources are free, unlimited, and ours for the taking. We act as if there is an endless supply of anything that comes out of the earth or is produced by it. And we generally have little hesitation in using environmentally violent means to acquire whatever it is that we “must have” from the earth – from blowing off the tops of mountains for coal to “fracking” levels of shale beneath the surface for natural gas.

            And when the earth or the animals who live upon it do not produce enough, or quickly enough, we rush in with chemicals for faster crops, or hormones for larger animals, or artificial “enhancements” to water and air. Our need for consumption seems to know no bounds.

            Our faith calls us to a different perspective by lifting up the moral dimensions of these issues and actions and how they affect the most vulnerable among us. The Catholic Climate Covenant organization, for example, points out that our cars, power plants, energy consumption and waste all contribute to a larger “carbon footprint” – the amount of damaging carbon gasses that are released into the air causing climate change.

            And, as it is with such wide-reaching wrongdoings, the poor and most vulnerable are the ones who suffer the most from our misuse of the world’s resources. This is why the US Bishops can talk about the issue in terms of “environmental justice” and why Pope John Paul II linked the problem to the same lack of respect for life and human dignity that shows itself in so many other areas of human interaction.

            Lent and Earth Day together give us an excellent opportunity to re-examine our attitudes and uses of resources, and to make changes in our lifestyles and our actions where necessary. The Catholic Climate Covenant offers us to take a “St. Francis Pledge” on their website that would commit us to five actions. We are called to pray and reflect on our duty to care for creation; to learn about the causes and moral dimensions of climate change; to assess how we personally contribute to the problem by our own consumption and waste; to act to change our choices and behaviors; and to advocate for Catholic principles in environmental discussions with special attention to the needs of the poor.

            This Lent we can pledge to reduce, reuse, recycle – and repent.

Homily for the 2nd Sunday of Lent - A

Gen 12:1-4a; Psalm 33:4-5, 18-19, 20, 22; 2 Tim 1:8b-10; Matt 17:1-9

            

           This second week of Lent is a good time for us to reflect on the fact that Lent is not just a time of fasting, almsgiving and prayer. It is also a time of new beginnings. Lent should remind us that each year, each week, each day we have the opportunity to make something new of who we are and where we are going. Sometimes those opportunities come to us just in the normal course of our days, in our morning offering, or in prayer throughout the day. But sometimes they come as a result of an experience we have had of a special closeness to God.

            Have you had one of those encounters? Have you had the experience where you feel like you have had a glimpse of God? They are not all as dramatic as the call to Abram or the Transfiguration – but I do think that they happen more frequently than we might think if we are open to them. We have the opportunity for just such an encounter – a glimpse of God - in our sacraments – especially here in the Eucharist. I know that often we come here on a Saturday or Sunday and kind of go through the motions and we can think that we “get nothing out of it”. But aren’t there times when you come to the Lord’s table here and something happens – you are moved by a song, or a prayer, or a Scripture reading – and you feel that you have gotten a glimpse of  God that has touched you in some way, and deepened your faith, or renewed your hope, or amplified your love?

            It’s not always here in Church, is it? Sometimes we have these glimpses of God in moments of contemplating the beauty of nature, or smile of your child, or the touch of someone you love. Sometimes we get a glimpse of God when help suddenly appears for us out of seemingly nowhere. We get a glimpse of God when we see someone making a sacrifice to help someone else. We get a glimpse of God when we feel loved.

            God called Abram to leave everything he was and everything he had and go to a new place. Think about how hard it is to pick up and leave where you grew up, or where you’ve made a home for yourself – if you’ve done it, you know what I’m talking about. But Abram had had a glimpse of God – and had to follow where he was called.

            Those three apostles, too, up on the mountain – they got a glimpse of the glory of Jesus’ future resurrection. But after the bright light knocks them to the ground, Jesus tells them to get up, not to be afraid, but to go down the mountain. They had a glimpse of God but had to take that encounter to make a difference in their everyday lives.

            Both Abram and the apostles got that glimpse of God and had to learn that God is not contained in just the places that we expect God to be. If we are open to new beginnings this Lent, if we are deepening our prayer life to open ourselves up to those encounters with God, sometimes God breaks through the boundaries of our human experience. If we spend time this Lent in prayer, and paying attention to beauty we might get another glimpse of God. If we look for the good in others and notice the best about those we love, we might get a glimpse of God. If we go beyond our own wants and our own desires, we might get a glimpse of God.

            During this second week of Lent, look for those opportunities to get a glimpse of God. We can make this Lent a time of new beginnings, of being open to those encounters with God, those experiences when we get a glimpse of God – and let God change our hearts.

Racism and the Criminal Justice System

Justice Perspective – March 2014

Deacon Don Weigel

            “The new forms of racism must be brought face to face with the figure of Christ” – US Bishops, Brothers and Sisters to Us.

            There seems to have been so many commemorations of historical moments and movements lately.  In the last six months, we have observed the 50^th anniversaries of Martin Luther King’s “I Have a Dream” speech, the issuance of the first document of Vatican II on the Liturgy, Sacrosanctum Concilium, and even the Beatles’ first appearance on the Ed Sullivan Show.

            This July we’ll undoubtedly commemorate the 50^th anniversary of the passage of the Civil Rights Act that outlawed major forms of discrimination against racial, ethnic, national and religious minorities. Unfortunately, overt forms of discrimination may have been outlawed, but apparently racism is still alive and well.

            In an alarming new report based on data from the NY State Criminal Justice Services, it appears that “representation of the African-American and Hispanic populations is disproportionately high in each stage of the criminal justice process”. And, even worse, “the disparities grow at each stage of the process”. 

            The report was prepared by Open Buffalo, a coalition of a number of civic organizations whose goals are long-term improvements in justice and equity in the Buffalo area. The report shows that in Erie County both African-Americans and Hispanics have higher percentages of arrests, have harsher sentences for convictions, and are less likely to receive probation or have their case dismissed than their White counterparts.

            For example, African-Americans represent about half of those arrested for felonies, but are almost two-thirds of those sentenced to prison for felonies. By contrast, Whites represent about forty percent of those arrested for felonies, but only a little more than a quarter of those sentenced to prison. In other words, African-Americans convicted of felonies are sent to prison more often and for longer terms than Whites who are convicted of felonies.

            Similar patterns appear for misdemeanors, conviction rates, acquittals, and probation. When people of color are at an obvious disadvantage throughout the judicial process, how can we deny that racism plays a part in that disadvantage? As the US Bishops taught in their document Brothers and Sisters to Us, “Racism is apparent when we note that the population in our prisons consists disproportionately of minorities; that violent crime is the daily companion of a life of poverty and deprivation; and that the victims of such crimes are also disproportionately nonwhite and poor. Racism is also apparent in the attitudes and behavior of some law enforcement officials and in the unequal availability of legal assistance.”

            Long ago racism was regularly practiced openly against whatever minority was the object of public scorn at the moment: Irish, Poles, Jews, Blacks, Hispanics, and others. Now racism is less blatant, and more subtle, and, in some respects, even more dangerous because it is even harder to combat and easier to ignore.

            Racism still exists hidden in the structures of our society that are tilted toward the success of the majority and the failure of the minority. Apparently, the criminal justice system is one example of just such a structure.

            The Bishops tell us that this radical evil calls for an equally radical transformation, in our own minds and hearts as well as in the structure of our society. We must be willing to correct our own attitudes, and insist on a correction in the judicial system. But, they remind us, “There must be no turning back along the road of justice”.

Homily for the 5^th Sunday Ordinary Time 

(Cycle A Readings: Isaiah 58:7-10; Psalm 112: 45, 6-7, 8-9; 1 Corinthians 2:1-5; Matthew 5:13-16)

    

            I don’t know about you, but about this time of the year I get really excited about those few extra minutes of daylight. I have been known to seem to be amazed at the fact that it was light before 7:30 this morning, and I’m like a little kid remarking how it is still light at 5:30!

            Light is so essential to us and that is why we aknowldge Christ as our light and use symbols of that to remind ourselves. We light this Paschal Candle at the Easter Vigil and use it for baptisms and funerals; it is why we have candles by the ambo and the altar, and why we have a lit candle by the tabernacle that holds the Blessed Sacrament.

            But Jesus says something startling to us today. He says YOU are light; I am light; WE are light. He doesn’t ask us to become light or to try to be light, he says we ARE light. And we are light because we are his – we are Christians – we are “little Christs”. It is because Jesus has called us and we have responded. If we are light, Jesus tells us that our light must shine among others – giving light to all in the house.

            And he tells us that we are the salt of the earth. We are salt – that basic element that flavors food, preserves food, and, in Jesus’ day, was used to make fires light and burn better. But if we lose our flavor, if we fail to preserve our faith, if we are no longer starting fires of peace and justice, then we might as well be put in the truck and dumped on the street to melt the ice.

            Jesus’ challenge to his believers, then and now, is that we be who we are – that we live who we have become. We have been baptized into his life. We come here each week to receive the Body of Christ, to BE the Body of Christ, and we are called to live as Christ’s body in the world.

            Being light and being salt is what the New Evangelization is all about.  We are supposed to live so that by who we are and what we do others will give glory to God. Light and salt share an interesting characteristic – they can both be perceived by the sense – taste for salt and sight for light – but neither of them is meant to the object of that perception. When salt is used properly, it enhances the flavor of what it is put on – and is unnoticeable itself. Same is true of light – we turn on a light not to look at the light, but to see other things because of it. We are to live our lives so that those around us see what we do and give glory to God.

            Pope Francis continues to challenge us toward this New Evangelization, to live, as he put it in his exhortation, the Joy of the Gospel.  And he tells us that if we take up this challenge, we have to go out to everyone – without exception. But, he asks, to whom do we go first? He is very clear: he says, not so much our “friends and wealthy neighbors”, but to “the poor and the sick, those who are usually despised and overlooked, ‘those who cannot repay you’”(48). In other words, he wants us to get out of our comfort zone. Getting out of your comfort zone is different for everyone. For me, it was prison ministry. When I was first invited to be a part of prison ministry, I resisted – mostly because I couldn’t see what a suburban, white bread, goody-two-shoes could possibly have to contribute to men in prison. But it’s not about me – it’s about bringing the love and friendship of Jesus to those who need to hear it desperately. It’s about being salt in a place of tastelessness and light in a place of darkness.

            What is it for you? Where do you need to get out of your comfort zone? Where do you have to go? To whom do you need to reach out? How far are you willing to take the challenge, as Isaiah put it, to share your bread with the hungry, shelter the oppressed and the homeless, and clothe the naked?

            There are certainly risks involved.  But Pope Francis tells us that he would “prefer a Church which is bruised, hurting and dirty because it has been out on the streets, rather than a Church which is unhealthy from being confined and from clinging to its own security”. (49) Are we willing to risk getting bruised, hurt and dirty in order to bring the “strength, light and consolation born of friendship with Jesus Christ” (49) to those who live without it?

            You are the salt of the earth. You are the light of the world. Be salt. Be light.