Fr. Rick Spicer

Today we are treated to one of the most beautiful passages in the New Testament. In his Letter to the Philippians, Paul begins by telling us to be compassionate and merciful. We are urged to put the interests of others above ourselves.

“Be like Jesus,” Paul tells us. “Serve others. Stop being selfish. See others as more important than yourself.” This is difficult advice to heed because pride is so deeply rooted in each of us. So much of our society pressures us into thinking that the world revolves around our wants and us.

Then Paul tells us about Jesus. He says that we should have the same attitude in life as Jesus had. He was forever God, but he did not regard this as something to be grasped. Instead, Jesus emptied Himself of His Divinity. He became human. Jesus became a slave to serve us. He obeyed His Father for our sake, even when this obedience led to His death on the cross. 

Because of this, God bestowed on Him the name that is above every other name; so “that at the name of Jesus every knee should bend, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord to the glory of God the Father.”              

Today’s readings remind us that we balk at doing so. We have two fundamental choices in life whenever the Lord asks something of us: obedience or rebellion. Rebellion is a choice we make at times, but it is the wrong choice.                                                                         

In today’s First Reading Ezekiel observes that those who blame the Lord for their destructive path and decisions are only fooling themselves. Rebellion is usually egged on by an injustice we have suffered. The countless protests in cities across our country are a testimony to that. Ezekiel debunks any claim that God is unjust in letting the wicked perish and the virtuous live due to their actions. No one can honestly say the Lord hasn’t tried throughout salvation history to dissuade us from taking the wrong path. Ultimately, our decisions are our own. 

In his writings Aristotle defined the most fundamental principle of ethics as “do good and avoid evil.” We’re free to do either, but we’re also responsible for the outcome.

The wicked do evil, and many people suffer the consequences of their evil, not just them. The virtuous do good, and many people benefit from that good. God blessed us with the freedom to do good or evil. He wants us to do good because he knows a virtuous life is a fruitful and beautiful life that brings us to the kingdom of heaven.

God also knows the flipside of freedom: we’re free to blow it and choose evil. God doesn’t want us to do evil, but permits us to do so out of respect for our freedom. God gave us free will because our ability to love cannot exist otherwise.

St. Paul traced a simple path for us to follow: the path Our Lord himself followed. He summarizes it very well: “Do nothing out of selfishness or out of vainglory; rather, humbly regard others as more important than yourselves, each looking out not for his interests, but also for those of others.”

The parable of the two sons is a classic example of saying that actions speak louder than words. The two sons represent our responses to God’s commands. The tax collectors and prostitutes, portrayed by the first son, had said no to God but in response to John the Baptist’s preaching, they experienced a change of heart. The chief priests and elders, portrayed by the second son, said “yes,” but their actions showed that they didn’t truly change their ways.

Often we hear and respond faithfully to what God is asking of us but at other times, our actions don’t demonstrate what we say. God’s call meanwhile is persistent, always there to prod our conscience, offering his divine word as guidance and calling us to fidelity. Entering the kingdom of heaven depends on being faithful to God’s persistent call and will.

For God to work through us, we have to take on the humility of Christ and empty ourselves for others. A good litmus test for doing that is our willingness to observe the greatest commandment, which calls on us to love our neighbor as ourselves; the corporal works of mercy offer us examples for doing that by caring about others.

Why do we say “yes” and not follow through at times? We do that because the thought of obeying God and denying ourselves provokes inner rebellion. Mankind’s entire history of sin is a history of rebellion, so it’s no surprise that rebellion is deeply rooted in us.

Our Lord gives us a different example: that of a profound obedience to the Father. Obedience is a difficult path, so it is no surprise that we are hesitant to always take it, but this path is the most fulfilling one.

Yes and no are the most powerful words we can say. They make a difference on how our life unfolds. A believer who rebels by saying “yes” to God’s will but doesn’t do it, will get nowhere near God’s kingdom. His lips said “yes,” but his heart said “no.” A believer who says “no” in the midst of rebellion but with a change of heart then obeys, is on his to  way toward entering the kingdom of heaven.

This parable probably irritates you, bringing to mind a common complaint, “Life isn’t fair!” That is certainly how some laborers felt after working all day in the scorching sun. Yes, they were paid what they had agreed to, but they became resentful when those who worked far less received the same pay as they did.

At least they were paid. For centuries, many people literally slaved without any manner of compensation. When the Civil War began in 1861, one in seven Americans was owned by another American. I doubt any of them thought life was fair.

Over 150 years have passed since this nation’s bloodiest war ended. Despite all the efforts and accomplishments of both black and white Americans since then, despite all of our worthy civil rights legislation, and despite the Church’s fierce stance against the sin of racism, America’s original sin continues to raise its ugly head.

The Civil War ended when Robert E. Lee surrendered to Ulysses Grant but remnants of the cause of that war still linger. Racism lingers in the jokes we tell, the choices we make, the friends we keep, the places where we live, and the candidates we vote for or against.

The notion of racism continues to be debated in our society today with some even denying that it exists. For many, racism is simply a fact of life. Racism is like a common cold. Everyone is susceptible to this “virus.” The sin of racism brings misery to all.  As embarrassing and controversial as it is, we need to consider racism in light of this gospel.

This parable bothers us because it reaches deep into our souls and into those places where we cry out, “Life isn’t fair!”

The parable takes us back to our childhood when our brothers and sisters seemed to get the bigger piece of the pie, a nicer bike, or a better break than we did.

This parable makes us itch because we are reminded of those times in our lives when we were left without a date, without being picked by a team or chosen by the teacher or the boss. Yes, there are many times in our lives when we wanted to say, “Life isn’t fair!”

Today’s parable makes us squirm because it strikes close to home, reminding us of the times when certain minorities, like African-Americans, Native Americans, Asians, Pacific islanders, and Hispanics seem to get preferential treatment. “It’s just not fair!” On the other hand, many of them would also say, “Life isn’t fair!” The latest issue of Northwest Catholic relates how some of them experienced racism.

That’s why it’s important for us to realize that Jesus told this parable because some good religious people, like the Pharisees and the scribes, complained that they were scandalized when he socialized with sinners in their midst like tax-collectors and prostitutes.

They somehow thought that God favored them for following the law. But Jesus told them, “Not so.” He urged them to rejoice in the fact that all peoples are treated equally by God and are invited to the kingdom, the first as well as the last, the faithful as well as the sinner, old-timers as well as new-timers.

Jesus told his listeners that our faith cannot be measured by our ways but by God’s ways because God is more generous, more loving, more forgiving, and more merciful than our little minds could ever imagine.

In the decades ahead, our nation and church will continue to be challenged by increasing numbers of “minorities” in our society. By the middle of this century, the average US resident will trace his or her ancestry to almost anywhere but white Europe. This will be a different nation and church then.

We can continue to protest, “It’s not fair!” but the gospel encourages us to sing a different tune. In that same issue of Northwest Catholic, Deacon Carl Chilo, the director of multicultural ministries for the Archdiocese, observed, “our faith in Jesus is stronger than the pervasiveness of racism and it can—and will—carry us to the promised land.” He then notes, “Among the many obstacles to overcoming racism is the troubling tendency of many people to deny its very existence, preferring instead to live in blissful ignorance of the daily reality experienced by many people.

“As Catholic Christians, we are called to ongoing conversion. We are called to respect the dignity and equality of all people regardless of differences.” Pope Francis tells us, “We cannot tolerate or turn a blind eye to racism and exclusion in any form and yet claim to defend the sacredness of every human life.”

In our first reading, God, who is generous and forgiving, reminds us, “my thoughts are not your thoughts, nor are your ways my ways.” There is no room in God’s heart for racism and inequality. So long as we ignore God’s ways, the turmoil of racism will persist. Yet when we come to realize that God treats us all equally and decide to do the same, then we come that much closer to making the kingdom of God a reality in our lives. When we treat others fairly, then we can count on God to treat us fairly.

Jesus gives us little choice here. In no uncertain terms, he is telling us that forgiveness is one task we cannot ignore. If we want to experience forgiveness from God, we must practice the art of forgiveness ourselves. Every time we say the Lord’s Prayer, we make the promise to do so while seeking God’s forgiveness for what we have done or failed to do. Yet lets be honest; that is a promise we fail to keep sometimes. We withhold forgiveness because we want to hurt the person who has hurt us. We nurse a grudge and even though we know wrath and anger are hateful things, as Sirach tells us, we do hug them tightly at times.

Peter thought he was being generous when he offered to forgive his brother seven times. In the Jewish culture, three times was considered sufficient. But Jesus said, “I say to you, not seven times, but seventy-seven times.” I doubt Jesus expected Peter or anyone of us to keep a tally. Instead he is urging us to forgive others as the need arises, just as our heavenly Father willingly forgives us countlessly.

Teachings on forgiveness occur frequently in the New Testament but we are slow learners. We are to forgive even if the offending party hasn’t repented. And why is that advice so crucial? When we refuse to forgive, we harm ourselves. Think of what such emotions do to our health. I am mindful of that line from Pogo, “We has met the enemy and it is us.”

Refusing to forgive is a form of anger that we hug tightly. Although I am not a psychologist, I venture to say that refusing to let go of anger is usually an issue of pride.

Jesus admonishes us to forgive for good reason; it is the healthy thing to do, both spiritually and psychologically. One person we often have difficulty forgiving is ourselves. We continually beat ourselves up for not measuring up to our expectations. The problem there is also one of pride. If God loves us unconditionally, why do we make it difficult to love and forgive ourselves? Certainly, we should keep working to improve ourselves, to grow in holiness, and learn from our mistakes. That is healthy pride, but we also need to accept the notion that only God is perfect. Beating ourselves up with negative attitudes toward oneself will only hurt us.

None of us can go through life without getting hurt. How do we react when that happens? Responding to each instance of hurt can provide us with an opportunity to grow or they can become a stumbling block in relating not only to others but also to God.  Sometimes we find ourselves unable to forgive.

Part of our inability to forgive might come from confusing forgiveness with its cousins. Forgiveness is not pardon. Nor is forgiveness condoning. We can forgive without approving the misconduct. Forgiveness is not forgetting; some wounds are simply unforgettable. Forgiveness is not the same as reconciliation. We may with great effort forgive the offender but remain unable to be in their presence. Forgiveness is not denial of the incident either. We must acknowledge the offense and not dismiss it. When we forgive, we must also give up our right to resentment and revenge.

Today’s brilliant parable rightly convicts us of our deep-seated tendency to self-righteousness, and we need to be convinced of that. But we should not overlook the parable’s eloquent depiction of Christ’s generosity. He is the king who forgives the huge debt. In the biblical Greek, this amount is quantified as 10,000 talents, an astronomical sum of money, more than all of us together possess.

Through our friendship with Jesus, God is always with us. As Paul tells us in our second reading, “Whether we live or die, we are the Lord’s.” This parable tells me that with Jesus, there is no end to the number of second chances we have to be forgiven. The clearest proof of this is the unmistakable gift of the sacrament of reconciliation; something that no other religion in history has ever offered its believers. Through the words spoken by a confessor, we hear words of absolution and forgiveness.

Fortunately for us, our God is a merciful one, willing to cancel our debt of sinfulness but his son reminds us of our obligation to practice the art of forgiveness ourselves if we wish to experience his divine mercy.

The closing words of the gospel are a haunting reminder that we could face the same fate as the servant who was handed over to be tortured if we do not forgive from the heart. As long as we cling to anger in our hearts and look for revenge—against individuals, groups or nations—we choose the torture, which our own hearts inflict on us. We can cling to that torture or we can work for peace.

The focus of our forgiveness should not just be on the person we are forgiving, or the action we are forgiving. The focus of our forgiveness should be on getting back on track with our own lives. We need to move on from our hurts, or we will always be bogged down by our anger.

Five hundred years before Christ, the great Chinese philosopher, Confucius wisely said, “To be wronged is nothing, unless you continue to remember it.”

Judging by the headlines, we live in a world of overwhelming turmoil. Protests continue in several cities. Family members are alienated; neighbors are at odds with one another; there is even animosity within the church. Citizens distrust their governments, nations nurse longstanding grudges and terrorism threatens us all. We can remain silent and do nothing, allowing the unrest to ferment or we can heed the advice found in these readings, which revolve around the themes of sin, repentance, forgiveness and reconciliation.

Ezekiel, the prophet, points out that the prophet’s duty is to warn sinners amongst God’s people to bring them to their senses and make them confront their sinfulness. Prophets hope that sinners will turn from their sinful ways, be forgiven and reconciled with God and their neighbors.

Rarely does any reconciliation process begin with those who have done the harm coming to their senses and seeking forgiveness. The first step, according to Jesus, is for the one who has suffered the hurt to confront the person who has caused it. That is not an easy step for us to take. Few of us do the art of confrontation well.

Instead, when we have been hurt, we are more inclined to share our pain with others through gossip then we are to speak directly to the one who has hurt us. But there will never be peace as long as the one who is hurt allows that hurt to fester and grow by recounting it to others. If the one who was hurt musters the courage to speak to the other, and if the offender has the courage to listen honestly and openly, reconciliation becomes a possibility.

If the one on one approach doesn’t work, resulting in some manner of reconciliation, then Jesus suggests doing the next step. “Take one or two others along with you, so that every fact may be established on the testimony of two or three witnesses.”

And if that doesn’t work, then involve the whole community. If that doesn’t work, treat the offender as you would a Gentile or tax collector. (Lest you think Jesus is suggesting that we exclude that person, recall that Jesus often befriended and ate with such people.) He isn’t telling us to punish, shun or excommunicate the sinner but to treat him or her like someone who isn’t yet committed to following the gospel.

I suspect the majority of you have not celebrated the sacrament of reconciliation in a long while. That may be for any number of reasons, but imagine God being the one who is hurt by what you have said, done or failed to do and is now coming to you for reconciliation. Through this much-neglected sacrament, God offers us the opportunity to repent, be forgiven and be reconciled, not only to God but to our faith community as well.

This sacrament is no longer seen as an isolated exclusive means of obtaining forgiveness for one’s sins, but as the source and summit of a whole Christian life of conversion.

In this sacrament, the confessor, after listening to the penitent, offers a penance.  Often I suggest that the penitent say the Lord’s Prayer, then keep the promise made in that prayer. “Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us.” I invite penitents to think of those whom they need to forgive and ask God for the grace to do so. Sometimes I have to remind them that forgive and forget do not mean the same thing. I then urge them to think of anyone whose forgiveness they need for what they have said, done or failed to do and if a name comes to mind to then ask God to give that person the grace to forgive them.

Whenever we say the Lord’s Prayer, we pledge ourselves to participate in the dynamic of repentance, forgiveness and reconciliation. Having experienced forgiveness from God, we have the obligation to extend forgiveness to others, rather than revenge or retaliation. That is part of loving one’s neighbor, which Paul reminds us fulfills the law. Unlike revenge, retaliation or anger, love is the one thing that cannot hurt our neighbor.

Jesus never said we have to like everyone, but he is urging us to love them but what does he mean? So often when we think of love, we think of erotic love, which attracts one person to another, perhaps leading to a lasting marital relationship or philia, the love that binds friends together. But Jesus and Paul are speaking of another kind of love, namely agape; selfless love, which is best demonstrated by respect, compassion and charity toward others. This manner of love overcomes prejudice and hatred. If we really love our neighbor, Paul contends that we would not disobey the commandments. We would not commit adultery, murder, steal or covet another’s property.

In this life, we will never be a perfect community nor be a perfect church, because we will always have the human dimension at work with its imperfections and weaknesses yet in every pardon there is love. As today’s readings suggest, love requires an extraordinary willingness and capacity on our part to forgive others and to help them turn from evil ways. If we truly want salvation for our brothers and sisters, it will be necessary at times to tell them kindly that their errant action is separating them from God. Doing so may not be well received, but love demands that we share our concerns if we are to make this a better world, where the peace of God’s kingdom can be felt.

Imagine how different our world would be if Paul’s advice to Romans, was followed by every Christian. “Do not conform yourselves to this age but be transformed by the renewal of your mind, that you may discern what is the will of God, what is good and pleasing and perfect.”

Peter was conforming himself to the mindset of his times so far as what a Messiah was expected to be, namely a military hero, much like King David, who would liberate his native land from the oppressive Romans. When Jesus predicts his pending death for the first time, Peter protested, “God forbid, Lord! No such thing shall ever happen to you!”

Undoubtedly, he was startled by Jesus’ harsh reprimand. Jesus uses some of the strongest language found in the gospel, “Get behind me, Satan! You are an obstacle to me. You are thinking not as God does, but as human beings do.” Jesus wasn’t saying Peter was an evil person, but he was saying Peter was doing the work of Satan, tempting Jesus to abandon his mission. Jesus knew the history of God’s people better than Peter and he knew what happened to prophets whose mission had been to preach God’s word, such as Jeremiah whom we heard in the first reading.

Peter reasoned things out the way people of the world would reason, not as God does. Jesus criticizes Peter for failing to understand God’s plan. Like Jeremiah, Jesus delivers an unsettling message. Peter’s angry reaction mirrors that of Jeremiah’s community, which refused to recognize the impending destruction of Judah. His anger also mirrors how even Christians today are resistant to facing reality.

How many of you would agree with this line? “Times have changed, Father. I’m only doing what is perfectly acceptable in our society.” The problem with this worldly logic is that what is perfectly acceptable in our society is not necessarily acceptable to God, who, for example, does not condone immoral behavior that many find to be “perfectly acceptable in our society.”

Such a society finds nothing wrong with hedonism, that is, putting one’s self-indulgence before every other good in life, including respect for others, respect for one’s country, and respect for all life. That so-called “perfect society” is the world of selfishness, a world of pride, a world where God is not wanted or his will is ignored.

In such a society, people want to hear only positive agreeable messages, even when difficult issues need to be addressed and remedied. Paul advises us to be informed thinkers, especially when dealing with critical moral issues.

Jesus cautions, “Whoever wishes to come after me must deny himself, take up his cross, and follow me. For whoever wishes to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake will find it.”

A seminary classmate of mine, Mitch Rozanski, was recently installed as the new archbishop of St. Louis. In his homily he said, “Covid-19 is not the only urgent cross facing us today. As a nation and indeed as a Church—we find ourselves still struggling with the scars of systemic racism in our society. This crime against human life and dignity is another no less devastating virus, this one a man-made plague that also isolates us from one another and diminishes the God-given humanity that we must all cherish if we are to be his children.” Archbishop Rozanski then observed, “Our civil discourse these days is not very civil; when a person shares a differing opinion, the tendency to demonize the other, often in deeply personal ways, eclipses any type of dialogue, common ground, or understanding. As Catholics, we need to ask, ‘Where is God in all of this?’”

When we surrender our lives to the author of life, we can break free of the ego-driven trivia and fear that consume so many of our days. As Jeremiah and Jesus demonstrate, the will of God is not always an easy path, which is why many choose to avoid it.

What is God’s will? Do we even consider that question whenever we personally make a moral decision or value judgment? By whose standards do we make our daily choices or react to the prophetic messages we hear that challenge us to deepen our relationship with Jesus Christ? Do we give ourselves time and space to sufficiently pray to become better aware of God’s standards and will?

This is my understanding of Jesus’ invitation when he told his disciples to take up the cross and follow him. He is not demanding a particular lifestyle. He is not requiring us to retreat from the world or take on a monastic lifestyle. He is simply calling us to follow him by living his way of loving others and accepting the human life that comes to us. With the cross, we are God’s holy people, stepping out in faith to follow Christ by resisting the devil. With the cross, we venture forth to feed the hungry, clothe the naked, soothe the suffering, carrying out the many corporal works of mercy. With the cross, we have the divine mandate to speak out against injustice and oppression whenever and wherever we know that to exist. With the cross, we dare to lose our life for the sake of the kingdom and with the cross, we find our real lives, the lives for which God created us, the lives we have been led to embrace since birth: lives of love and service to God and one another.