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. 

The Adventure Awaits!

Fourth Sunday in Ordinary Time

            It seems, at least historically, that the American people have an adventurous nature.  Look at the way we spread across this land, moving out into the unknown to establish new States.  While I’m not positive, it wouldn’t surprise me that an American invented the sport (though I consider it more rash than adventurous) where you get a snowmobile up to terrific speeds in order to do flips and twists in the air, before trying to land it safely on the ground. 

G. K. Chesterton

            Given this adventurous nature, there should be droves of people lining up to be Catholic.  Now, Catholic and adventurous may not always go together in your mind.  Our liturgy, though altered in noticeable ways in the late 1960s and early 1970s, dates back (at least in its basic form) to the first century, and old and adventurous do not always go together.  It is sometimes said that those who are Catholic are simply afraid of pursuing other beliefs and opening their minds to other realities.  The Catholic Church, fairly or unfairly, is often associated with conservativism, of holding on to the past, rather than the liberalism of plowing ahead on a new, undiscovered path.  But, as G.K. Chesterton said, “People have fallen into a foolish habit of speaking of orthodoxy as something heavy, humdrum and safe.  [But] there was never anything so perilous or so exciting as orthodoxy.”

            What do I mean?  What does Chesterton mean?  Well, look at our readings today.  In our first reading, God calls Jeremiah to be His prophet, His spokesman.  But being a prophet for God means that God’s own Chosen People were going to fight against Jeremiah.  And so God assures Jeremiah that God has made the prophet “a fortified city, a pillar of iron, a wall of brass.”  Jeremiah had to tell the people, especially the leaders of Judah, that they could not trust in foreign alliances to save them; that they needed to turn away from the false gods of Canaan and Assyria; that only by fidelity to God would salvation come.  But the people preferred the foreign alliances and the idolatry that came with it.  It would be no easy task to try to get the people to turn away from sin and be faithful to God.  It took a true adventurous heart to say “yes” to God’s call and fight the cultural norms of the day.

            Or, look at our Gospel.  What an adventure to follow a guy who claims to be the fulfillment of the Messianic prophecies, but looks exactly the same as everybody else; is thought of as the son of Joseph, and has been doing miracles everywhere else, but when it comes to His own home town, nothing major happens.  And then, rather than just passing by, Jesus condemns the people’s disbelief, and says that God prefers the pagans to the Chosen People because at least they have faith, as in the days of Elijah and the widow of Zarephath, or in the days of Elisha and Naaman the Syrian.  And, based upon this critique, the people, Jesus’ own neighbors, try to drive Jesus off a hill to at least do Him bodily harm, if not to kill Him.  What an adventure to follow the guy that everyone wants to put to death!

            Catholicism now is no less an adventure now than it was when Jesus was founding His Church in the first century.  It takes real courage to follow a Person who is not half-God and half-Human, but 100% God and 100% Human, without any mixture or confusion.  It is so much easier to say that Jesus was just a really good, but really misunderstood, sage.  It is so much easier to assert that no one has a special office and we can all just vote on what we want to believe.  But as a Catholic, we’re not into easy.  Our faith is adventurous in what we believe and in what we preach.

            The Lord God still reminds us that we are called to be “a fortified city, a pillar of iron, a wall of brass against the whole land.”  We are not necessarily morally better, but we are called to be faithful to the truth that God has communicated through His Church, governed by the apostles and their successors.  The gift of truth that we have received, the Spirit of Truth who leads us into all truth, is not meant to be something that we just hold by ourselves in smugness, but spread to others so that they can find the freedom of living as a child of God.  But we will get pounded for this.  When we defend marriage as created by God between one man and one woman we are called bigots.  God’s truth is called lies, light is called darkness, and good is called evil. 

            It is in those times that we should turn back to St. Paul and his second letter to Timothy:

proclaim the word; be persistent whether it is convenient or inconvenient; convince, reprimand, encourage through all patience and teaching.  For the time will come when people will not tolerate sound doctrine but, following their own desire and insatiable curiosity, will accumulate teachers and will stop listening to the truth and will be diverted to myths.  But you, be self-possessed in all circumstances; put up with hardship; perform the work of an evangelist.

Of course, we are called to preach the truth in love, as our second reading reminds us, so that we are not “a resounding gong or a clashing cymbal.”  We are called to invite to the joy of the truth.  We are called to propose, but not to impose.  But this love is not the emotion which encourages someone to do whatever he or she wants, but the will for the best that the other person can be.  And in the end, being Catholic means that we believe and hold firm to teachings that the world considers folly.

Being Catholic is an adventure, and is not for the faint of heart.  But a crown of righteousness awaits those who are faithful and complete the adventure on earth.  “People have fallen into a foolish habit of speaking of orthodoxy as something heavy, humdrum and safe.  There never was anything so perilous or so exciting as orthodoxy.”