15th Sunday OT (Fr. Sean R.
DeWitt's First Mass)
Fr. Philip Neri Powell, OP
The lawyer starts by asking Jesus a religious question: “What do I
have to do to get heaven?” Jesus asks him a lawyer's question,
“What does the law say?” The lawyer gives Jesus a religious
answer by quoting from several different books of the Old Testament,
concluding with “you
shall love your
neighbor as yourself."
Jesus says, “Good job. You know your stuff. Do all that and you'll
get to heaven.” Seemingly puzzled, the lawyer finally asks a
lawyer's question, “Um, exactly who
is my neighbor?” In other words: define
your terms! Kids do
it to parents. Students do it to teachers. Workers do it to bosses.
And we, the children of our Father, do it to Him. “Define your
terms, please.” We do it for a lot of reasons. Some good, some not
so good. If we make the demand to better understand – truly
understand – what's required of us, then we're probably on the good
side. However, if we demand better definitions in order to look for
loopholes, then we're definitely not on the good side. In fact, we
are probably wanting to do what our lawyer friend is trying to do:
to justify our weak love.
So,
let's define our terms! What is “weak love”? Our Lord answers
with a parable. Weak love is the sort of love we have for those for
whom it is safe to love. The sort of love that costs nothing; never
puts us in danger; always produces immediate reward; the sort of love
that the world expects, even demands from us; the sort of love that
marks us as “good people” in the eyes of those who watch us for
signs of hypocrisy and deceit. Weak love also walks on by in
fear, disgust, and self-righteousness. In other words, weak love is
not love at all; it requires no sacrifice and yields no spiritual
fruit. In order to justify his own weak love, to make right his own
unwillingness to love as he ought, our lawyer friend asks our Lord to
define his terms – who is my neighbor? Our Lord answers with a
parable. Who is your neighbor? Anyone who needs your sacrifice.
Anyone who requires your compassion. We can imagine that our lawyer
friend is not happy with this answer. He wants to ask, “What do you
mean by 'sacrifice'?” and “Can you define 'compassion'?” When
you say, “go and do likewise,” do you mean that I can get into
heaven by helping a robbery victim with medical care? Does that
include follow-up doctors' appointments? I've done it. Maybe you've
done it. Weak love compels us to ask these kinds of questions.
Sacrificial love compels us to be merciful.
And
we are commanded to love sacrificially. As cruel and unjust as it may
seem, our Lord commands us to love as he loves us. He loved us all
the way to his death on to the Cross. And he loves us still in the
Eucharist. If we were left to love as we ought all on our own, we
could rightly charge Christ with cruelty. As imperfect creatures
incapable of doing anything good w/o him, we would necessarily fail
again and again to obey his command to love as he loves us. We would
forever be the priest and the Levite who rush past the robbery
victim, looking back in fear, disgust, and self-righteousness. We
would forever be the testing-lawyer who looks for loopholes in order
to justify our weak love. If Christ is not being cruel by demanding
the impossible from us, how do we love sacrificially as he commands?
How do we show mercy when it seems that we are so irretrievably tied
to Self? Here's the Good News: our weaknesses, our failures to love,
our lapses in showing mercy – all of it – is made perfect in
Christ Jesus.
Paul
teaches the Colossians that Christ is “the image of the invisible
God.” Therefore, Christ is “the firstborn of all creation [and]
all things were created through him and for him.” Himself
uncreated, Christ comes before creation, and in him the fullness of
divinity, all that God Is, is pleased to dwell, and so, “ in
him all things hold together…”
and through him all things are reconciled for him. We were created
through Christ and for Christ. We were redeemed through Christ and
for Christ. We are being perfected in our creatureliness through
Christ and for Christ. And we will come to thrive in the fullness of
God through Christ and for Christ. But
we must love! We must
love sacrificially. This is not a matter of weepy sentiment or mooshy
affection. All things are held together in Christ, and Christ is love
for us. Without the passionate divine willing of the Good for us, we
simply cease to exist. So, whatever failures we cultivate, whatever
lapses we tolerate, whatever targets we miss, all of it is made
perfect in Christ Jesus. And if we receive his love – his sacrifice
for us – if we receive his sacrifice, and if we take his sacrifice
and make it our own – if we own it! – and put it to work for the
glory of God and the salvation of man, then we participate in his
perfection and grow and grow and grow in holiness. And we approach
the supernatural end God set for us at our creation: we
become Christs for one another.
Now,
you may have heard me say that we shouldn't ask God for clarity; or
that we shouldn't think too hard about what Christ requires of us.
I'm a Dominican friar. Defining terms and making distinctions comes
as naturally to me as breathing. We are all rational animals. Our
reason is what makes us most like our Creator. Our reason is the
“image and likeness of God” in which we are created. Our
questions to God are not only not
a problem, they are a necessity for our growth in holiness. Doubts,
fears, questions, failures – all of it – are made perfect in
Christ. When you need clarity for the sake of loving more perfectly,
ask for clarity. When you need a distinction for the sake of serving
God's people more zealously, ask for that distinction. However, if –
like our lawyer friend – your doubts and questions are a test for
God, or an attempt to justify your weak love, keep silent and show
mercy to someone who needs mercy. That's your answer. Show mercy and
wait for Christ to make your mercy perfect. Because you – none of
us – can do anything good w/o him.
When
Sean wrote to me in February of this year and asked me to vest him at
his priestly ordination and to preach his first Mass, I rushed to the
mirror and counted my gray hairs. . .in my beard. One of my U.D.
freshmen was being ordained a priest! I first met Sean in 2007. He
took Literary Traditions I & II with me at U.D. I left U.D. in
2008 and moved to Rome for advanced studies and missed out on
teaching him theology. Though I was not part of Sean's formal
seminary formation, I like to imagine that I had some part of play in
his intellectual formation, meaning, of course, that I hope I managed
to plant a Dominican seed in his head. . .one that will grow to
fruition for the good of the Church. I visited with Sean only a few
times in Rome while he was there. And I saw in him then a young man
with a sharp mind, a faithful heart, a passion for serving the
Church, and a zeal for the Gospel. Please don't tell Bishop Vasquez,
but I worked overtime to lure him into the Order of Preachers.
Bagging a vocation like Sean would have earned me three toasters and
a shiny new habit rosary. Despite my best efforts, which I am ashamed
to admit, included massive amounts of begging and bribery, Sean chose
to return to home and serve you. Yesterday, Bishop Vasquez charged
him with preaching the Gospel, teaching the faith, and celebrating
the sacraments. Today, as the fisherman who let the Big One get away,
I take this opportunity to make my own charges. Fr. Sean, I charge
with the duty to bear up under both the burden and the privilege of
bringing the apostolic truth to God's people in season and out,
whether you or they like it or not. I charge you with the burden and
privilege of hearing and listening to God's people as their spiritual
father, always compassionate yet never wavering in teaching the
apostolic faith. I charge you with the burden and privilege of
throwing yourself on the mercy of God when you fail – and you will
– and asking for forgiveness from those you offend. And lastly, I
charge you with the task of growing in humility through thanksgiving
and praise to God. You have been set aside for a holy purpose. Never
forget that you are an instrument. You are not the Carpenter. You are
his tool. And so are we all.
Follow HancAquam or Subscribe ----->