I feel a bit guilty about it, but on this
glorious feast I want to make a U-turn and talk about the unholy trinity. The unholy trinity consists of three persons;
namely me, myself, and I.
You might think that’s just a way of
introducing a sermon against selfishness. But in fact my message today is quite
closely connected to the central mystery of our faith, that God is one God in
three persons.
How is that truth connected to us? Simple:
we know from the very first chapter of the Bible that we are made in God’s
image and likeness.
God is one, but God is not solitary (CCC
254). Although there is only one God, the three divine persons are really
distinct from one another. So the Most Holy Trinity is anything but “me, myself,
and I.”
Precisely because we are created in God’s
image we are called to the sort of life the Father, Son and Spirit live as a
trinity of persons. The word that best describes that life is probably ‘communion.’
Communion is a big word we use to describe a variety of relationships within
the Church, and we speak also of the Communion of the Saints. But it also
describes our relationship with God: the Catechism says that the whole
Christian life is a communion with each of the divine persons (CCC 259).
We are, in other words, called to share
the inner life of God—Father, Son and Holy Spirit. Our second reading says that
God’s love has been poured into our hearts; this is communion with God, an
ever-deepening unity with Him, because, of course, God is love.
Like all truths, this one has
consequences. As St. Paul tells the Romans, no-one lives for himself and no-one
dies for himself. Since we are united with God, the love in our hearts
overflows for others, just as the divine love overflowed into the act of creation
described beautifully in the first reading today.
Jesus commands us “love one another, as I
have loved you,” but this is a short form for “love one another as the Father
and the Holy Spirit and I love one another.”
Love creatively, and generously, and selflessly.
The Catholic Church is sometimes faulted
for being too dry in her teaching. We
sometimes look back on the old penny catechisms with their short questions and
answers as being a bit simplistic. Yet some of the old-fashioned formulas
contained great practical wisdom, and it may be time to take another look at
them.
The Corporal and Spiritual Works of Mercy
are a very good example of this. This traditional formula, which an earlier generation
had to memorize, is much more than a checklist of good works. It’s actually a
comprehensive list of actions that extend God’s compassion and mercy to those
in need.
Whether you were called to memorize the
works of mercy or not, we are all called to perform them. It’s part of our
share—our communion—in the overflowing love of Father, Son and Holy Spirit.
One of the many blessings that have come
from the Year of Mercy announced by Pope Francis is a renewed interest in the
corporal and spiritual works of mercy. Just when it seemed the traditional fourteen
works might be forgotten, they’ve come back to inspire us in very practical ways.
I read a story on the internet about those
working to help the people in Fort McMurray deal with the consequences of the
devastating fire—as we will be doing today in our second collection. Much to
my surprise, it was about Jacquie Nowlan, a woman who lived for many years in
Vancouver and whom I know well.
In her interview, Jacquie turned right away to the tradition
I’ve just been talking about. “I
don’t think any who call themselves Christians can be divorced from corporal
works of mercy,” she said. “Certainly as Catholics, we are called to corporal
works of mercy, and that’s what this is. It’s about being called by God to help.”
Jacquie’s
husband was working in Fort McMurray when the wildfire turned on the town. The
fact he and everyone else was able to get out safely made her very grateful.
But she knew she had to do more.
Her pastor happily gave her permission to use the church hall as a collection depot for relief supplies. Working 10 and 12 hours shifts for days, they were able to deliver about 10 pickup truck loads of goods ranging from clothing to food to bottled water for the evacuation effort.
Her pastor happily gave her permission to use the church hall as a collection depot for relief supplies. Working 10 and 12 hours shifts for days, they were able to deliver about 10 pickup truck loads of goods ranging from clothing to food to bottled water for the evacuation effort.
“I
have such admiration for first responders in any emergency, and especially for
what the first responders were able to do in Fort McMurray,” Jacquie says. “But
just by being able to contribute, I was a first responder to the Holy Spirit.”
She
saw what she was doing through the eyes of faith, not philanthropy. “It
really is a point of conversion for me,” she says. “After I left my job, I was
having a bit of a pity party for myself, but God needed me to be on the ground
here to do this. In the Year of Mercy, I was called to an act of mercy for my
brothers and sisters. My faith required me to respond.”
This story [you can read the rest of it
here] shows we need to read the signs of the times—to see, judge and act, as is
sometimes said: to see the good that needs
to be done. So the works of mercy not only tell us the sorts of things that need to be done: they also help us decide what
we need to do at the present moment.
A classic text on the spiritual life tells
us what should be obvious: we are called to do what needs to be done. In his
book Spiritual Theology, Father Jordan Aumann, OP writes that the apostolate “whether
considered as the spiritual and corporal works of mercy or evangelization, is
the obligation of every baptized Christian.”
But he adds a phrase that’s very
important: “according to one's state of
life, capabilities, and opportunities for apostolic action.”
Let’s read that again: the apostolate “whether
considered as the spiritual and corporal works of mercy or evangelization, is
the obligation of every baptized Christian according to one's state of life,
capabilities, and opportunities for apostolic action.”
Jacquie Nowlan accomplished at least four of the fourteen works of mercy. She couldn’t possibly have performed the
others at the same time.
So it is with us. Quite rightly, I can say that my state of
life means I cannot spend the time it would take to run a homeless shelter. If
I spent my time visiting those in prisons I could not fulfill my primary
obligations as a pastor.
Capabilities also are part of the
story. Not every Christian is able to
teach the faith; perhaps they’re too shy or not well enough formed themselves.
Elderly and fragile parishioners may be unable to visit those in hospital—and so
on.
But all of us are challenged by the works
of mercy, which are neatly listed in the bulletin this week. No-one can say
their state of life, ability or opportunities for action make it impossible to
bear wrongs patiently, or to pray for the living and the dead.
Happily, the fact that we are all part of the communion of the Church, living in the communion of this parish, gives us the means to live out our call to action with others. A parish is never me, myself and I: it is “us,” a community that can act together.
Happily, the fact that we are all part of the communion of the Church, living in the communion of this parish, gives us the means to live out our call to action with others. A parish is never me, myself and I: it is “us,” a community that can act together.
In the first place, this means we can
unite to perform the spiritual and corporal works of mercy. You do not need to
open your own school to instruct the ignorant; you can take part as a volunteer
in our faith formation and religious education programs. You do not need to
travel timidly to the downtown East-side and start approaching people on the
street: you can join in the organized work of the Society of St. Vincent de
Paul.
But there’s more opportunity still. By supporting
the good works that the parish sponsors, you can participate in many more than
you could ever accomplish on your own.
Your weekly support of the parish is, of
course, the starting point. Without that we could not organize the many good
works performed day after day, week-in, week-out. However, in this Year of
Mercy, I am inviting you to consider donating to Project Advance as a way of
showing mercy to others.
We’re not doing anything too
dramatic. But as Pope Francis says, “A
bit of mercy makes the world less cold and more just.” We’ve tried to focus this year's campaign on all
seven of the corporal works of mercy and two of the spiritual, since most of
what we already do comes under that heading.
The first four corporal works are feed the
hungry, give drink to the thirsty, shelter the homeless and clothe naked. To
respond to these challenges, we propose a grant to the Harvest Project here on
the North Shore, and additional support for refugees.
The next good work is visiting the sick.
This is carried on in a wonderful way by our dedicated volunteers who regularly
bring Holy Communion and organize Masses at care facilities. We will provide
them with a small fund to purchase such things as rosaries, booklets and other religious
items for those they visit.
Visit the imprisoned: you’ve all heard
about the wonderful work done by our prison ministry volunteers. We’ll have a
small fund to support their work and to make similar purchases for inmates when
allowed.
In recent years, we’ve found a need to
support some families with the increasing cost of a proper Catholic funeral.
And so we’ll respond to the corporal work of burying the dead by establishing a
fund that will provide subsidies for those who need this help.
The largest sum will go to fund
counselling expenses. Society today is in crisis in many ways. Marriages are weakened, the youth are tempted,
and depression confronts even people of the strongest faith. Good counsellors,
especially those whose work is faith-based, can provide lasting help—but they
are expensive and beyond the reach of many, especially young people and young married
couples. With your generosity, we will seek to “counsel the doubtful” by
subsidizing the cost.
The last of the seven spiritual works of
mercy is by no means the least important. It is “pray for the living and the
dead.” We all do this regularly, and we certainly do it as a community. Each morning those who say Morning Prayer
together in the church offer prayers for the intentions placed in the prayer
box beside the front door. And at every Mass we offer prayers for both the living
and the dead.
But this spiritual work is carried on in a
special way by those who devote their lives to it. So we will offer some support to the
Dominican Nuns at Queen of Peace Monastery in Squamish, asking them to pray for
our parishioners and their families, living and dead, during this Year of
Mercy.
Any time the homily touches on money,
there will be a few folks thinking that it’s just a spiritual spin on
fundraising. But most of you know better—you know that the Christian life has
always included financial sacrifice and support, and that Jesus wasn’t fundraising
when he said it is more blessed to give than to receive.
Let us all be “first responders” to the
many needs around us, living lives of love united in the Father, the Son and
the Holy Spirit.