Humility, Gentleness, and Patience, Even When We Disagree

 Seventeenth Sunday after Pentecost
    In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.  We are in the midst of the midterm elections.  And both in the partisan elections and in the ballot proposals, there are high stakes and heavy consequences for the outcomes.  Whether in the debates or in television ads, we see all kinds of name-calling and mud-slinging, accusing the opposition of being the worst kinds of people.  In the midst of this rancor, we hear from St. Paul today: “live…with all humility and gentleness, with patience, bearing with one another through love, striving to preserve the unity of the spirit through the bond of peace.”  
    We may think that this admonition is easy to make for St. Paul, because he doesn’t have to deal with “those kind of people” in his letter.  But, in almost every Pauline letter, there is division in the Church, and not simply divisions between rich and poor, but divisions in faith and morality.  Indeed, St. Paul exhorts the faithful in Corinth to excommunicate a member for his egregious behavior.  But still, he calls for gentleness and humility here, along with patience and unity.

    Fast forward a few centuries to St. Augustine of Hippo.  St. Augustine was no wilting flower.  He fought heresy whenever he found it.  Indeed, he fought heresies that sometimes made him seem to be contradicting himself, in order to emphasize either God’s grace or our participation with it.  The Pelagians taught the heresy that original sin has not tainted us, and so we can do good works simply by our nature, rather than by the grace of God.  The Donatists taught the heresy that sin was everywhere and made us wretches and the priest had to be a saint in order to validly confect the sacraments.  St. Augustine also fought the Manichaeans, who taught the heresy that the world was divided into good and evil, the spiritual being good, and the material being evil.  
    But St. Augustine, even while being tough on heresy, strove to follow the words of St. Paul that we heard today.  The Doctor of Grace wrote of those who denied the validity of Catholic baptism (no small accusation):
 

when we do not repeat their baptism but acknowledge it to be our own, we are saying to them: You are our brothers.  […] And so, dear brothers, we entreat you on their behalf, in the name of the very source of our love, by whose milk we are nourished, and whose bread is our strength, in the name of Christ our Lord and his gentle love.  For it is time now for us to show them great love and abundant compassion by praying to God for them.  […] They respond with the same Amen, not with us, but still the same.  And so pour out your hearts for them in prayer to God.  

This guardian of orthodoxy (right belief) and orthopraxy (right practice or worship), neither gave up the faith, nor gave up charity to those who had wandered away.
    Christ shows us the basis for what St. Augustine taught and lived.  He was very hard on the Pharisees, who had twisted the words of Sacred Scripture in favor of their own traditions.  They executed a sham trial of Him for blasphemy, and led Him to be put to death by the Romans, all the while mocking Him as He offered Himself for us on the altar of the cross.  Christ did not give in to their lies and perjury, but He also prayed for them as He offered Himself to the eternal Father.  
    So how are we are unity?  How gentle and humble are we, especially with those whom we oppose?  Do we automatically condemn and excise from our life, or do we seek reconciliation and peace, whether from afar when it is not possible due to antagonisms when in person, or even close up when we have the chance?
    And this goes, not only for political opponents, many of whom profess the same faith, even if their actions show a lack of understanding of that faith and a lack of integrity in living out that faith, but also for fellow Catholics and priests and bishops.  It is easy to ostracize those with whom we do not agree, and sometimes we must take harsh action.  But are we willing to pray for them, and even to meet and dialogue with them, not giving up the truth, but being willing to hear their position and agree where we can, and be charitable where we can?
    Last weekend I was in Chicago for the Annual Investiture Weekend of the Equestrian Order of the Holy Sepulcher of Jerusalem.  I am honored to be a member, and was glad to welcome one of our parishioners, Kishore, to this august group that supports the Christian presence in the Holy Land.  The spiritual leader of our North Central Lieutenancy is the Cardinal Archbishop of Chicago.  He and I likely disagree on a number of priorities and prudential decisions when it comes to our Catholic faith.  There may even be areas where we disagree on the faith.  But, during one of our evening socials, he was suddenly right in front of me, and extended his hand in greeting.  I introduced myself, told him that I was a priest of Lansing, and we joked a bit about Bishop Boyea, who followed the Archbishop at the Josephenum as Rector.  We had a short, but pleasant conversation, before he moved on to other members to greet them.  I was struck by His Eminence’s sincere interest in meeting us, his charm, and his willingness to give of his time to be with us, when he likely has other more important matters (at least in his estimation) with which to deal.
    Meeting him didn’t change my disagreements with the head of the Church in Chicago.  It didn’t convince me that his prudential decisions were well-made.  I’m not signing up to be a member of his fan club (if he has one).  But it did bring home the Apostle’s admonition today, to be gentle and humble, patient, and to strive for unity where one can find it.
    Many Catholics today are quick to write-off those whom we feel are heterodox or heteropracticers (I just created that word for those who practice heteropraxy).  We can demonize them in words on blogs and Facebook posts, and then advocate all kinds of hateful actions, justified, in our minds, by seeking to maintain orthodoxy and orthopraxy.  But I think we would do well to follow the method of St. Augustine, who followed the method of St. Paul, who followed the model of our Lord: profess the truth, without giving in to error; hold fast to what God has revealed, even when it means suffering; but do all this with charity towards others, seeking forgiveness for those who have wandered away and who persecute us, simply for following and conforming ourselves to God.  Pour our your hearts for them to the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit.  Amen. 

Fasting and Abstinence (Precept #4)

Tenth Sunday after Pentecost
    In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  So, continuing our walk through the Precepts of the Church, I will admit that today’s Gospel could easily have also dealt with our necessity to confess at least once per year.  But I chose that precept last week.  So, since the Gospel spoke about the Pharisee talking about his fasting and his pious works, let’s focus on Precept number 4: You shall observe the days of fasting and abstinence established by the Church.  A bit of a stretch?  Yes, but just go with it for our purposes.

    It may seem odd to focus on this, since our Lord says that the Pharisee who bragged to God about his fasting was not the one who went home justified.  So, one might think that we shouldn’t focus on fasting.  But the problem wasn’t the fasting.  The problem was that he thought it made him better than the others, a sign of spiritual pride.
    Fasting, St. Thomas Aquinas states, has a threefold purpose: to control lust, to allow the mind to go more towards heavenly things, and to make satisfaction for sins.  It also gives us solidarity with the poor, who go without food, not by choice, but by their lack of due resources.  We can fast from food, but also from other goods, like the internet, social media, television, music, etc.  Fasting from food is required two days out of the year: Ash Wednesday and Good Friday.  On those days, according to current norms, one is to eat one normal size meal, and two meals which, when added together equal or are less than the one normal meal.  Of course, one can always eat less.
    Abstinence, in the way the precept of the Church speaks, concerns not eating meat.  Included in the understanding of meat is the meat of mammals and poultry.  Not included is fish and reptiles.  Of course, there are exceptions.  The Archdiocese of Detroit still holds on to an old dispensation that allows the eating of muskrat on Fridays (muskrat stew instead of fried fish).  Beavers and capybaras are also fair game on Fridays.  

Muskrat

    The Church still holds that every Friday is a day of penance, and that one can observe it by abstaining from meat.  However, in 1966, the US Bishops removed the penalty of sin from eating meat on Friday, and allowed for other penances, other than abstinence from meat, though they did still place abstinence from meat in first place.  But Fridays are still days of penance, and, when possible, abstaining from meat is a great way of observing the penitential days.
    Of course, some would say that fish can be rather luxurious, and not help us keep solidarity with the poor.  Or some enjoy seafood, and so would find it odd to give up meat to enjoy a nice lobster tail.  But, as I started to give up meat on Fridays, what I noticed is that, it wasn’t so much about what I was eating, but training my will by what I couldn’t eat.  Given my fallen humanity, a juicy steak never seems so appealing as on a Friday.  But I’m reminding my body that just because it has a desire does not mean I have to give in to that desire, which of course helps us beyond simply the food we eat.  
    But it’s also not just the action; the intent is also key.  Do we abstain in order to unite our suffering (or at least the pain of saying no to our fallen will) to Christ on the cross?  Do we utilize these days of penance as ways that we express sorrow for the sins we have committed?  Or, is it self-justification–trying to save ourselves by our good works–an approach, St. Paul reminds us, does not work.  Fasting and abstinence are, at face value, about what we eat or don’t eat.  But the deeper level is meant to draw us closer to Christ who sacrificed His sacred flesh for us on the cross, which is why we abstain on Fridays.  
    Fasting and abstinence is also meant to move our mind to heavenly things.  Look at the Gospel again: the Pharisee did not have his mind on heaven.  He was so focused on what he was doing, that he wasn’t even really praying, which presumes desiring union with God, rather than focusing on the self.  The tax collector, who maybe didn’t fast as much, recognized he was in need of forgiveness because he had sinned, but did not seek justification from his own deeds, but from God, and so went home justified.  So for us who fast, we still need to remember that we fast because we need to refocus on God, and we need mercy for our sins.  As much as our fasting leads us to God, it is good.  When it leads to spiritual pride, it has become an obstacle to growth in holiness and should be restarted with a different mind-set.  
    Lastly, fasting and abstinence are not absolutes.  When we choose to fast or abstain, we should do so in recognition of the goodness of the body, however fallen.  Fasting is not dieting, but some people use fasting and/or abstaining to drop a few pounds.  But we need to make sure that our body is getting sufficient nutrients for our needs.  For that reason, especially those with diabetes, hypoglycemia, and even pregnant women should use their reason when deciding how much to fast and/or abstain.  We don’t want to slide into a Manichaean mentality which treats the body as evil.
    One good way to make sure that we don’t is to properly celebrate on days of rejoicing.  Solemnities (which include, but are not limited to, every Sunday and holy day), should not be days of fasting, without consulting a spiritual director.  In fact, when a solemnity falls on a Friday, it is no longer a day of abstinence; you can have meat.  Those are the days that we especially remember the joy of the Incarnation and Resurrection, or special saints like the Blessed Mother, St. Joseph, St. John the Baptist, to name a few.  While we do fast because the Bridegroom is not here in the same way He was during His earthly ministry, we also rejoice because of what He has done for us, and how that has been lived out by members of the Church who are now in heaven.  We should also allow for those times when we are visiting friends who don’t observe Friday as a day of penance, and eat what they set before us, even if it includes meat.
    Fasting, abstinence, and all ascetical practices help to train our bodies and wills to choose Christ, rather than always choosing what we immediately want.  May the uniting of our sacrificial practices help to heal us of our sins, and raise our minds to heaven, where Christ is seated at the right hand of the Father, with the Holy Spirit, God for ever and ever.  Amen.