Fr. Rick Spicer

A bishop in the south of London came out of the cathedral one day and saw a small boy playing in the gutter. He asked the lad what he was doing with the mud. “I’m making a cathedral,” he replied. “Well,” the bishop said, “if you have a cathedral, you must have a bishop.”

“Nah,” said the boy, “I ain’t got enough muck to make a bishop.” Sadly, several years ago, the news media had plenty of muck on hand due to the poor judgement of some bishops in dealing with clergy misconduct across the country. There remains a need for healing in our Church.

Christ doesn’t use muck to make bishops nor does the Church as we witnessed last Monday when two of my brother priests were ordained to serve as bishops for the Church of Western Washington during a liturgy that filled Saint James’ Cathedral with much joy. As Matthew told us in the gospel, Jesus summoned his disciples to carry on his mission so that peoples everywhere would hear the good news that God loves them unconditionally.

Notice that he didn’t choose saints. To the contrary, Jesus chose a pretty ordinary lot of sinners, hardly qualified to be evangelists. Peter publicly denied him on the eve of his crucifixion. Matthew was a despicable tax collector, James and John greedily sought places of honor, Thomas was full of doubts, Judas betrayed him for 30 pieces of silver, and in the end, they all abandoned him. Yet, in spite of what they did or failed to do, Jesus loved them unconditionally.

That is also the underlying message in the first reading as evidenced by the line, “I bore you up on eagle’s wings.” What is the meaning behind this image? Scientists in the Sinai observed that eagles taught their young to fly by nudging them out of the nest. The young eaglet would drop, but until it learned to fly, the mother eagle would swoop down under her young with wings spread out so that the baby bird could land on her back. This process would be repeated until at last the eaglet mastered the art of flying. By using an image that the Israelites could relate to, the author of Exodus conveys the message that God passionately loves them and in the face of whatever hardships and trials they would experience, God would be there for them.

That insight prompted me to carefully read the verses in the song, On Eagle’s Wings, by Michael Joncas. “You who dwell in the shelter of the Lord, who abide in his shadow for life, say to the Lord, my refuge, my rock in whom I trust.” Is this a true reflection of where you are today? Do you see the Lord as your refuge, as one who can be trusted? Or do you feel betrayed because some of those to whom the Lord entrusted his mission violated the promises they made?

One friend, still angry over how some bishops condoned the sexual misconduct of their priests, was not so certain she could remain Catholic. Judging by recent headlines, she isn’t alone in her feelings that no solution offered by the bishops would be adequate enough to restore the trust that has been lost. Perhaps you know someone who has left the Church because of the scandal, but leaving the Church is hardly the solution. Certainly not if we trust that God has and will continue to provide all that we need to experience salvation.

What has happened since the scandal broke in Boston three years ago became a wake up call for all of us, especially for our bishops and us priests. One American theologian observed that the crisis created by this scandal is ultimately about fidelity. How faithful are we to the gospel of  Christ?

The mission Jesus entrusted to the 12 apostles and to those who followed in their footsteps is an awesome one, to say the least. That mission is to proclaim and live the message of repentance and forgiveness. As history points out, some bishops, priests, and theologians fell short of carrying out their mission by dissenting from certain Church teachings and values such as its moral standards regarding sexuality. You could say that the devil seduced them into tolerating what in the sight of God is sin. Sooner or later, sin, that is, any action displeasing to God, is bound to result in harm as well as deep hurt.

God didn’t make us to simply obey a bunch of rules yet they were given to us for good reason, to spare us from the hurt caused by sin. To successfully deal with the many moral decisions that must be made, we need to have and use a well-thought out conscience. That is developed through prayer and an ongoing study of our faith and its principles, which provide us with a certain measure of guidance and direction. If it is to spare us from the consequences of sin, a well thought out conscience must be solidly grounded in the wisdom of our Judeo-Christian ethics, not simply on the emotions of the present moment or the values promoted by our secular society. Jesus, we heard, was moved with pity at the sight of the
crowds because they were troubled and abandoned, like sheep without a shepherd. The scene is no different for us today. We stand in need of shepherds ourselves, because wandering off on our own will not bring us any closer to God. If we want to remain close to God, we must deepen our faith, rather than abandon it. As the song, On Eagle’s Wings, points out, by placing our trust in the Lord, God will hold us in the palms of his hands.

A farmer was the proud owner of a very beautiful horse. One day he rode the horse into town and tied the animal to the hitching post in front of the general store. Two thieves, passing through, spied the handsome horse and decided to steal it. They also decided on a clever strategy to carry out their plan. One of them untied the horse and rode swiftly away. The other remained by the post. When the farmer emerged from the store and saw that his horse was gone, he was about to shout for help when the conspirator walked up to him. In a sad, low tone he said, “Sir, I am your horse. Years ago I sinned and for my sins I was punished. I was changed into a horse. Today my sentence is over, and I can be released if you will be so kind.” The farmer was dumfounded, yet touched by the story. So he sent the man away wishing him well in his new life.

Several weeks later the farmer went to a fair in a neighboring town. Great was his surprise to see his own horse for sale there. After gazing long at the animal to make sure that his eyes did not deceive him, he walked over and whispered in the horse’s ear, “So … you’ve sinned again!” Being human, we sin repeatedly. Fortunately, we don’t turn into a horse when that happens but our humanity is diminished when we do. And to restore our lost humanity and transform ourselves into the fully human person God wants us to be, we are called to repentance.

The Gospel writers tell us that the haughty righteous Pharisees criticized Jesus for many things, including, as we just heard in today’s Gospel, associating with sinners. In their opinion, God has no tolerance for sinners. After all, a sinner is one who consciously opposes God either by living an immoral life or by following a dishonest or disreputable occupation. This definition would, of course, include the tax collectors and prostitutes who were shunned by the Pharisees and even by the “ordinary people,” but not by Jesus who chooses to dine with them.

In response to the Pharisees’ criticism of his actions, Jesus responds, “Those who are well do not need a physician, but the sick do. Go and learn the meaning of the words, ‘I desire mercy, not sacrifice.’ I did not come to call the righteous but sinners.”

Which group do we tend to place ourselves in? Do you see yourself as a righteous devout Christian or as a sinner in need of forgiveness? The truth is, everyone sins. John points this out in his letter, “If we say we have no sin in us, we are deceiving ourselves.” To follow Christ, we must first admit that we are sinners constantly in need of his divine mercy. In return, he challenges us to look at our ways and our priorities. Jesus, we are told, desires mercy, not sacrifice. How odd, you might think. After all, isn’t sacrifice a sign of love? Not necessarily. Think of the workaholic father who spends countless hours, working overtime to provide his family with what he thinks they want yet is too busy to spend any time with his children. His son would certainly feel more loved if his father spent time playing with him instead. In effect, our readings today challenge us to become more and more God-centered, which can be a formidable task for those of us with busy routines. How God-centered can we claim to be if we won’t even commit ourselves to attending Mass every weekend? And for those of us who do come to Mass, how God-centered can we claim to be if unlike Jesus, we refuse to truly forgive someone who has offended us?

We may sacrifice our time to come and pray, but are we extending mercy to those in need of our mercy?

Fr. Ray Carey, a priest whom I know in Portland, Oregon, relates this remarkable example of mercy. One day, a doctor came to treat a nun who was dying of cancer with a powerful new drug. In a moment of distraction, he injected her with a dose that was much too potent. He immediately realized his fatal mistake. Seeing the horrified expression on his face, the nun knew what happened. She grabbed the doctor and said, “I absolve you for what you’ve done. You must continue your work and not be crushed by guilt.” Then she turned to her friends and said, “I forbid you to bring a case against this doctor or the hospital.” Two hours later, she died.

Real forgiveness is hard for us to comprehend. We tend to think forgiveness means denying that sin exists. “Don’t worry. It was nothing. Forget it.” Some people even talk of unconditionally accepting others but that love vanishes when they are personally offended and they lash out, determined to get even instead. How often have you heard someone say, “I am very forgiving and accepting but what so and so did is unforgivable.”

Jesus did more than simply talk about mercy. He did outrageous things like eating with sinners to demonstrate mercy. He wanted people to see mercy in action. Ultimately he would do for us what the nun ill with cancer did for the young doctor. Dying on the cross, Jesus absolved us from our sins and even from our guilt. Not by saying, “Don’t worry, you didn’t mean it. It was nothing.” No, our sins are quite real, but by his example Jesus wants to make us conduits of his divine mercy. So, learn the meaning of the words, “I desire mercy, not sacrifice.” What better way can we prove that we are indeed following him?