I need to preface this homily with this thought. Anyone who follows me on Facebook is well aware of how critical I am of donald trump and many of those who believe in him, including many Republicans elected to public office. As I much as I may despise how they treat, use, and abuse human beings; as much as I may consider them the fecal matter of the Body of Christ (a strong image that I’m sure St. Paul never intended), I do not wish to damn them to hell for eternity. I only know too well my own sins and limitations and hope that God extends the mercy and love that God has for me to them, too, and, vice versa. On to the homily …
A HOMILY FOR THE 28TH SUNDAY IN ORDINARY TIME
When I was in 4th grade, Sr. Carmelita encouraged us to make friends only with other Catholic children. However, if we insisted on playing with Protestant children, should any of them get injured to the point of death, we were to baptize them immediately with whatever water was handy, so they would not go to hell. It is reminiscent of the joke in which this guy dies and goes to heaven and St. Peter takes him down the hall past a number of doors and then St. Peter stops and says, “You have to be very, very quiet going past that door. That’s where the Catholics are, and they think they’re the only ones here.”
Vainglory is something from which many people suffer. I am no different than anyone else. We all like to think we and those like us are the only ones going to heaven. And, if you are like me, there are times we may have assigned people we do not like to places deep in the lowest, darkest levels of hell.
Praise be to God, the Second Vatican Council was held, ecumenism was promoted and all Christians were encouraged to share their faith in Jesus Christ with other Christians. We learned that none of us were born with devil horns and cloven feet, and while there were still differences in how the many Christian faith traditions celebrate their belief in Jesus Christ, we have learned that what we all share in common is far greater than those differences that separate us.
For those of us still vainglorious enough to believe that we are the only ones going to heaven, the scripture readings are telling us today to not count our chickens before they hatch. Many people who we may think will not be admitted to heaven will be there. And many people we thought will be in heaven will not be there. And, don’t be so sure that our own salvation is secure. At the end of our days, we might not find ourselves in heaven, either.
What we hear in both the reading from Isaiah, and the gospel from Matthew is that God’s mercy and love is all inclusive. God’s mercy and love is greater than the petty differences that separate people from people, culture from culture, nationality from nationality, language from language.
In the reading from Isaiah, all people, of all cultures, all languages, and all religions are invited to the heavenly banquet feast on God’s holy mountain. God’s feast is inclusive to the point that even the enemies of the Jewish people are welcomed around his banquet table. God provides “a feast of rich food and choice wines, juicy, rich food and pure, choice wines,” for not just some to eat and drink, but for ALL to eat and drink. God destroys the veil that separates us from one another. The Jewish people may have been God’s chosen ones, but God reveals that all of humanity are children of God.
The same is describe in the parable of the wedding banquet hosted by a king. At first, only certain chosen people are invited. They all refuse their invitation claiming that they are too busy or distracted from attending, and, in some cases, killing the servants of the king who invite them to the banquet. So the King then tells his servants that the feast is ready. However, because those who were first invited were not worthy to come, the servants should go out into the main roads and invite to the feast whomever they find. Jesus continues the story saying, “The servants went out into the streets and gathered all they found, bad and good alike, and the hall was filled with guests.”
As you know, Archbishop Flynn assigned me as a parish life administrator to St. Stephen’s in 2004. The mission statement of this inner city parish was essentially that the parish was one big circus tent under which all people were welcome. Among this unique grouping of parishioners were great numbers of street people, ex-offenders, ex-priests, ex- nuns, the gay and lesbian community, those who were developmentally disabled, prostitutes, the disenfranchised of other different faith traditions including Lutherans, Methodists, 7th Day Adventists, and a Quaker. There were times at the end of a week I would think to myself, “I think we are still Catholic.”
There was a very conservative and traditionalist group from St. Agnes Catholic Church in St. Paul, they called themselves the Rosary for Truth. They did not like that there were parishes like St. Stephens primarily because the people welcomed at St. Stephen’s didn’t fit their definition of what good Catholics should be. The Rosary for Truth group would arrive 30 minutes before the 11 o’clock Sunday morning Mass to pray the rosary for all whom they considered damned for eternity, namely, all the parishioners of St. Stephen’s. They would stay for a part of the Mass, then, as one, the Rosary for Truth group would walk out in the middle of the consecration. After 3 months of this spiritual abuse, I met them at the door of the church and disinvited them because they were insulting my parishioners and mocking the Catholic faith.
Unlike Pope Francis who preaches a large inclusive Church made up of all people, all cultures, all sexual orientations, all walks of life, the Rosary of Truth group believed that only a certain exclusive group of Catholics, namely them, would be admitted into heaven. In their vainglory, they did not believe that God was all loving and merciful. They could not believe that God welcomes all people around his banquet table, the “bad and good alike”. As Jesus tells us in the Gospel today, there is no limit to the mercy of God.
I remember one parishioner from St. Stephen’s telling me that when he came out and told his family he was gay, his family ostracized him. They kicked him out of the family and he was no longer welcome in the celebrations of the family into which he was born. He fell into a deep depression, contemplating suicide. He came to St. Stephen’s Catholic Church and found that God loved him, and accepted him just as he was. In the liturgies and in many of the parish community who were as broken as he was, he discovered that God did not hate him and condemn him for being gay. Rather, God loved and welcomed him with open arms.
Where do you find yourself today here at church? Do you count yourself among the bad around this banquet table of God, or among the good? Or, are you not too sure where you fit in among the people gathered here today. Jesus is telling us is that God’s love and mercy is great, powerful, and encompasses all people. Jesus is telling us that God welcomes all of us the bad and good alike to this banquet table. All that is required of us is to accept God’s invitation.
