The Fifth Sunday
in Ordinary Time
(A)
Dear
brothers and sisters,
By
the arranging of Divine Providence, the first reading assigned for this Fifth
Sunday in Ordinary Time from the Book of the Prophet Isaiah seems particularly
chosen for the challenges of the present moment. The Lord God says to us through his prophet: “Share your bread
with the hungry, shelter the oppressed and the homeless; clothe the naked when
you see them, and do not turn your back on your own” (Isaiah 58:7). Looking out
upon the world today, how can we fail to see the hungry, the homeless, and the
naked? How can we fail to see those made exiles and refugees by the scourge of
war without our hearts being pierced with compassion for them?
If
we read carefully, we see that the Lord’s command first concerns those who are
strangers and foreigners, those who are others and outside the community, which
is why the last clause comes as something of an afterthought: “and do not turn
your back on your own.” Yet, the Lord Jesus does not allow such a mentality, of
“us” and “them,” as we see demonstrated in the parable of the Good Samaritan or
in the parable of the judgment of the nations in which Jesus says, “Depart from
me, you cursed, into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels;
for I was hungry and you gave me no food, I was thirsty and you gave me no
drink, I was a stranger and you did not welcome me, naked and you did not
clothe me, sick and in prison and you did not visit me” (cf. Luke 10:25-37;
Matthew 25:41-43).
When
those so condemned by their failures to love ask how this could be so, Jesus
answers them most solemnly: “Amen, I say to you, as you did it not to one of
the least of these, you did it not to me” (Matthew 25:45). Do we, as
individuals and as a nation, wish to be so cast out from the presence of the
Lord? We cannot forget that we are
our brothers’ keeper and that “anyone who needs me, and whom I can help, is my
neighbor” (cf. Genesis 4:9).[1] It
really is that simple.
The
Lord God has given us his command
to feed the hungry, to shelter the oppressed, and to clothe the naked for a
very specific reason. It is only when we so open our hearts in love to those in
dire need that, as the Lord himself says, “your light shall break forth like
the dawn, and your wound shall quickly be healed; your vindication shall go
before you, and the glory of the Lord
shall be your rear guard” (Isaiah 58:8). If we do not enact these corporal
works of mercy, we – as a society and a nation – will not grow in virtue and
will not achieve the reconciliation we so greatly desire and need.
Our
forebears recognized the need to keep this command of the Lord God and so put
these words of Emma Lazarus’ poem, “The New Colossus,” at the base of the
Statue of Liberty:
Give me your
tired, your poor,
Your huddled
masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched
refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the
homeless, tempest-tossed to me,
I lift my lamp
beside the golden door!
If
we do not honor these words, if we do not keep this explicit command of the
Lord our God, then we should remove that plaque and perhaps even that symbol of
American life and hope itself. The Lord Jesus calls each of us to be, with him,
“the light of the world” (cf. John 8:12; Matthew 5:14). What is more, he
commands that our light, which is always to be a reflection of his own merciful
love, “must shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify
your heavenly Father” (Matthew 5:16).
How
can we desire to close our borders to the 350,000 children who are forced to
remain in the city of Mosul alone and who currently live under the explicit threat
of death from the Islamic State?[2] How
can it make sense to force His Excellency the Most Reverend Bashar Warda,
Archbishop of Irbil, to cancel his planned visit to discuss the plight of
persecuted Christians with His Eminence Timothy Cardinal Dolan and the Catholic
Near East Welfare Association?[3] How
can we do this and still claim our light shines forth? It is as Pope Francis
has said: “It’s hypocrisy to call yourself a Christian and chase away a refugee
or someone seeking help, someone who is hungry or thirsty, [to] toss out someone
who is in need of my help. If I say I am Christian, but do these things, I’m a
hypocrite.”[4]
Contrary
to what many claim in our day of regrettable binary thinking, this does not
mean a nation must simply open its borders to everyone. The Catechism of the Catholic Church puts it
this way:
The more prosperous nations are obliged, to the extent they
are able, to welcome the foreigner in search of the security and the means of
livelihood which he cannot find in his country of origin. Public authorities
should see to it that the natural right is respected that places a guest under
the protection of those who receive him.
Political authorities, for the sake of the common good for
which they are responsible, may make the exercise of the right to immigrate
subject to various juridical conditions, especially with regard to the
immigrants' duties toward their country of adoption. Immigrants are obliged to
respect with gratitude the material and spiritual heritage of the country that
receives them, to obey its laws and to assist in carrying civic burdens (2241).
It
is under the framework of this teaching that Pope Francis reminds us that
Prudence
on the part of public authorities does not mean enacting policies of exclusion
vis-à-vis migrants, but it does entail evaluating, with wisdom and foresight,
the extent to which their country is in a position, without prejudice to the
common good of citizens, to offer a decent life to migrants, especially those
truly in need of protection. Above all, the current crisis should not be
reduced to a simple matter of numbers. Migrants are persons, with their own
names, stories and families. There can never be true peace as long as a single
human being is violated in his or her personal identity and reduced to a mere
statistic or an object of economic calculation.[5]
Indeed,
the Holy Father asks us, “How can we not see the
face of the Lord in the face of the millions of exiles, refugees, and displaced
persons who are fleeing in desperation from the horror of war, persecution and
dictatorship?”[6] He further challenges us
to see that in “every one of them, each with a unique face, God reveals himself
always as the one who courageously comes to our aid.”[7]
And if God comes to our aid, then we must come to their aid, not because of who
they are, but because of who we are as members joined to Christ Jesus.
These
are not easy words to speak or to hear in our politically charged culture, but
these words are not about politics because, as Saint John Bosco says, “a priest
has no politics but the Gospel, and he fears no recriminations.” These words
instead concern the fundamental principle of Christian charity that must
motivate our every action. If these words upset you, I urge you to pick up the
Gospels and read them in full to know the heart and mind of Jesus. Make his
heart and mind your own “so that your faith might not rest upon human wisdom
but on the power of God” (I Corinthians 2:5).
If
it is authentic and sincere, Christian charity cannot be extended only to those
among my family and friends; it must also be extended to everyone in need. Our
own immediate ability to welcome the hungry, homeless, and naked refugee may
not be too far-reaching, but we can – and should – include these brothers and
sisters in our daily prayers. Moreover, we should support organizations who
help them – such as the Catholic Near East Welfare Association, Aid to the
Church in Need, the Knights of Columbus, Catholic Relief Services, and Catholic
Charities – to the extent that we are able. We should also speak up when we
hear others attempt to label all refugees as terrorists or extremists or
anything else that borders on the ignorant or the ridiculous.
If
each of us opens our hearts to the love of Jesus Christ, how can we not extend
that same love to our neighbor? We may not be able to do much as individuals to
come to the aid of those in dire circumstances, but as a nation we can – and
should - do great and good deeds to
bring glory to our Father in heaven.
Let
each of us, then, do all that can to receive those who come to us “in weakness
and fear and much trembling” so that we might introduce them to Jesus Christ (I Corinthians 2:3). May the Lord so move our hearts and direct our thoughts and
actions so that the light may rise for us in the darkness and the gloom become
like midday (cf. Isaiah 58:10). Amen.
[1] Pope Benedict XVI, Deus caritas est, 15.
[2] Cf. Rachel Pells, “Mosul: Isis threatens to kill 350,000 children trapped in city if they try to leave,” Independent, 30 January 2017.
[3] Julianne Dos Santos, “Travel Ban Postpones U.S. Visit of Chaldean Archbishop of Irbil,” Catholic New York, 1 February 2017.
[4] Pope Francis, Audience with
Catholic and Lutheran Pilgrims from Germany, 13 October 2016.
[5] Ibid., Address to Members of the Diplomatic Corps Accredited to the Holy See, 9 January 2017.
[6] Ibid., Meditation During the Stations of the Cross, 25 March 2016.
[7] Ibid.
No comments:
Post a Comment