Homily: Twenty-third Sunday in Ordinary Time: 2007

Brothers and sisters, I don't think Jesus was "inclusive," ("If anyone comes to me without hating his father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters . . . he cannot be my disciple" Luke 14:25), at least to the extent that He wasn't looking to embrace the maximum number of people in order that they feel welcomed and moved to become Catholics, good as that is. It's more like the rigors of science -- you study it and accept it because it's TRUE. And where science speaks the truth of the physical world, Catholicism speaks the truth of the spiritual world. If not . . . if it simply were not true . . . and uniquely so, as opposed to just being "one of many ways to God," why join? How else to make sense of Saint Mary Yi Yon-Hui's story? St. Mary was arrested in 1839 in Korea for the crime of being a Catholic. She could have recanted and returned to her life, but instead she held firm -- despite the fact that her husband was killed (also for being a Catholic) and her son arrested. "She never complained of the tortures and other sufferings to which she was subjected. Mary was made to listen to the screams of her twelve-year-old son being tortured in an adjacent cell. The guards would torment her anguished heart further by describing to her afterwards how they had tortured the child." - Magnificat, Sept. 4th. But still she held firm. And that, my friends, is loving Jesus even more than "father and mother, wife and children, brother and sister." And yes, even one's own life. St. Mary was beheaded three and a half months after she was arrested. Before he too was martyred, her husband had written her a letter inviting her to follow him to heaven. And she did. But I left out the fact that she had stood up to her tormentors, complained of their cruelty and protested the horribly unjust treatment of herself and her husband and son . . . at first. That's natural. That's even admirable. But her husband admonished her and showed her a better way. A Catholic should suffer with the meekness of a lamb, he said. And so thereafter she never complained.

And we do suffer, don't we? How ofter do we suffer in silence and heroism, like St. Mary? I don't know about you, but I've had financial problems. But one time while I was whining about my (perceived) lack of financial resources, my smartest friend said to me: "Now, concerning money, you know better than that!" True. While life has an absolute value, money and possessions (and money is a type of possession) have only a relative value. And I must (constantly) remind myself:

"In the same way,
anyone of you who does not renounce all his possessions
cannot be my disciple."

I think at the end of life, we see this all the more clearly. A dear friend of mine died this week and I know he can look back on his (long and varied) life with thankfulness and praise. He recently found out the (inoperable) cancer in his liver had spread to his heart and lungs and it was only a matter of time. He was in hospice and was managing his pain quite well. But I know he was a little distracted with the (pain and anxiety) medication and his struggle to breathe, so I know he was glad he had already prepared his soul. He always had this moment in mind, even as he prayed the Rosary every day " . . .and at the hour of our death." This great man, who'd traveled the world, who'd given of himself to the poor and the stranger in every land he'd lived in, who substitute taught, who tutored immigrants, who volunteered for the Native Americans, who worked for the sisters, and who befriended my family, always THOUGHT about what he prayed, and never just rattled off words, like the pagans do. And I believe he took to heart, as we all should, the words of the Psalmist:

" Teach us to number our days aright,
that we may gain wisdom of heart"

And that's what it's all about.

May we be prepared. For we will all see Him, whether soon or late.

Let us profess our faith.