What does our Catholic faith teach us about immigration?

            Workers tend to a lettuce field near Salinas, California. (CNS photo/Robert Galbraith, Reuters)


Earlier this summer, immigration agents raided the weekly Bible study that Omar, a New Orleans day laborer, and his family regularly attended. Along with four other men, Omar was handcuffed and arrested in front of his 4-year-old and 5-month-old daughters, both U.S. citizens.
No one should be threatened for seeking work in order to provide a good life for their family, or for being active and contributing members of their community. Those aspirations are human.
Deepening and exploring our faith is a fundamental part of the Christian journey. Omar deserves the right to grow in his faith. Can you imagine being at a Bible study and having the police break it up?

If you want to make an informed Catholic decision about how to understand how Catholics are to view this difficult issue in our country, click here

Question of the Week

For scripture readings click here

Thirty-first  Sunday in Ordinary Time

Welcoming the sinner

Reading 1       Wisdom 11:22-12:1 (digression on God's mercy)

Reading!!       2 Thessalonians 1:11-2:2 (exhortation to faithfulness)

Gospel            Luke 19:1-10 (Zacchaeus the tax collector)

Key Passage   And Jesus said to Zacchaeus, "Today salvation has come to this house, because he too                          is a son of Abraham. For the Son of Man came to seek out and to save the lost." (Luke                          19:9-10)

Adult  During the next week, what could you do to welcome someone who usually feels excluded?

Child   Is there a child in your class or neighborhood who is left out of games and activities? What can              you do?

Thirtieth Sunday in Ordinary Time

October 27, 2013

For scripture readings click here.
For a video on this parable on "Who to judge, click here and then click on the video :Who to judge."

In the gospel we have just heard, Jesus tells a shocking story.

Perhaps you didn’t experience the shock?

Part of the problem is that many of us have heard the parables so often since we were children that we know what’s coming:

It’s like watching a movie for the tenth time.

Another part of the problem is that we only vaguely get the shocking bits. Indeed, they often go straight over our heads.

Yes, we know, or think we know, that the Pharisee was probably like one of those people we may know, who are so proud of their own rectitude and morality that they have no compassion for anyone who doesn’t live up to their standards.

It’s easy to be completely lacking in sympathy for this Righteous person. After all, we are tolerant, accepting, open people.

We hope our parishes are welcoming places, open to all who join us or want to join us.

We can feel secure in disliking this person who lists the sins of others, is sure he’s God’s particular friend and has God’s approval, a person of good values.

We can also approve of the penitence of the Publican, who bewails his faults, dares not even to assume the customary attitude of prayer, standing with arms extended, but who crouches on the ground and begs God for mercy.

Our approval comes easily because we don’t know what a “low life” the Publican is.

To understand just what a crook the Publican is, we have to remember who the tax gatherers were in Jesus’ day.

Tax collectors worked for the hated Romans, who were not only unclean gentiles, but oppressors, those who had conquered the Jewish state and ruled it with sometimes savage enthusiasm.

Jewish tax collectors were the equivalent of those who collaborated with the Nazis, or the Soviets in occupied Europe during World War II, or Christians in Rwanda who stood by or participated in the massacre of their fellow citizens.

A tax gatherer was given an area and told to raise a certain sum of money. How he did this wasn’t an issue; how much he pocketed for himself didn’t matter as long as the Romans got the money they wanted.

Probably no one was hated as much as a tax gatherer, not even a self-righteous Pharisee who looked down on those who didn’t meet his standards.

So when Jesus approves of the Publican, the tax-gatherer, one can imagine the shock that went through his hearers.

It would be as if he’d singled out someone who has ruined people with a Ponzi scheme, and now enters our church and professes repentance in the company of those defrauded.

If we are to be polled, we’ll vote to approve of a self-righteous but upright person over a swindler and a crook.

To tell the truth, we, too, can sound like the Righteous Man who thanks God that he is not like other people.

How often do we blame the poor, saying that they are feckless, irresponsible and culpable in their own poverty because they haven’t bettered themselves or taken advantage of the American Dream?

We don’t want to be taxed to pay for their health care, housing, feeding. Why should we share that which we’ve worked hard for with those we regard to be lazy and unworthy?

To justify our lack of “faith, hope and charity,” we trot out examples of people who really want to live off others, and blame all poor people for the indolence of a few.

Worse still, we feel that God owes us his attention to our needs, that we deserve his love and grace because we are better than others and keep, or think we keep, God’s laws.

We trot out “forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us” quite easily.

“Forgive us our debts,” that which we owe God and owe others implies that there is something to forgive, that we do fall short.

Of course we do.

This morning, here in the presence of God, we feel secure because we believe that God is ever loving, ever forgiving, always ready to restore us. We are right. Jesus offered himself for us, placed himself between “our sins and their reward” in an act of self-sacrificial love.

We come before God today not secure in our own righteousness, but as the old prayer puts it, “in thy manifold and great mercies.

We are not worthy so much as to gather up the crumbs under thy table.

But thou art the same Lord whose property is always to have mercy.”

God approves of the wretched tax gatherer over the Righteous Man, because the tax gatherer admits his faults.

We show our own penitence not just by making our confession together, but by our willingness to forgive and love those who are in need.

Without God’s love, our love isn’t up to that task.

With God’s love, we can love even those who repel us.

Question of the Week

Twenty-ninth Sunday in Ordinary Time

Taking responsibility

Reading I       Exodus 17:8–13 (battle with Amalek)

                       Reading II      2 Timothy 3:14—4:2 (apostolic charge)

                       Gospel            Luke 18:1–8 (the corrupt judge)

Key Passage   For a while the judge refused; but later he said to himself, “Though I have no fear of God and no respect for anyone, yet because this widow keeps bothering me, I will grant her justice, so that she may not wear me out…

  Adult  Whose needs might you be failing to listen to right now?

Child   How often do you put off chores until you are forced to do them? Who is hurt by such a decision?

Twenty-eighth Sunday of Ordinary Time C

"The healing of the ten lepers"

For today's scripture readings click here.

Today=s readings offer us a valuable lesson concerning the appropriate attitude of the believer toward the outcast.

Unfortunately, some outcasts seem to invite our mistrust and desire for avoidance. 

Homeless persons, for example, sometimes have an air of desperation about them because the lack of a valid address deprives them of so many other rights and opportunities.

With no address, they cannot receive mail, apply for jobs, receive financial aid, etc.

Without an address, they have relatively little access to baths and washing machines, and as a result are sometimes unkempt and smelly.

With so many struggles to bear, the homeless may resort to acts of desperation or exhibit attitudes that are unwelcome.

So it becomes easy for us to justify distancing ourselves from such people and their problems. 

Other outcasts may find themselves in that predicament due to illness.

DiseaseCin particular, serious diseaseCis frightening in that it is not entirely understood.

Even more frightening are those diseases and conditions for which there is no known cure.

While leprosy may be generally controlled in today=s world, other diseases like HIV or AIDS are not, and those who suffer from these suffer doubly.

Those whose sexual orientation has been judged to be abnormal or sinful also struggle against attitudes that run the gamut from anger to loathing to condemnation.

Although the official church teaching states that Athose persons who have deep-seated homosexual tendencies must be accepted with respect, compassion and sensitivity@ and advises that Aevery sign of unjust discrimination in their regard should be avoided@^[1], this policy is rarely reflected in the actions and attitudes of Christians.

Given the frequency with which certain members of our human family are treated as Aoutcasts,@ what has today=s Word to say to us?

Even the most careful reader will not detect any hesitation on the part of Jesus or Elisha to reach out to the outcasts (in this case, the lepers) of their day.

There is not even a whisper of judgment in these narratives;

there is only kindness, caring and a proactive concern that challenges us to similar kindness and compassionate caring.

To do otherwise is to betray who we are as believers and to betray the One in whom we believe.

Although he may not have intended his words to be so applied, the author of 2 Timothy speaks a relevant truth to us in today=s second reading.

Jesus has chosen to identify with the outcasts of society;

therefore, when we reach out to the homeless, to homosexuals, to the divorced and to the victims of dreaded diseases, we are, in effect, reaching out to Jesus.

But it also follows that if we deny these, we deny Jesus and place ourselves in a position to be denied by him.

Therefore, let us resolve to reach out, as did Jesus, with care and compassion to all those in whom Jesus still begs to be discovered and loved.

---

^[1](Catechism of the Catholic Church nn. 2357-2359

Twenty-seventh Sunday Ordinary Time C

For today's scripture readings click here

“If I just had more faith….” I think most of us have struggled with that at some point in our lives. If I just had more faith I wouldn’t have so many questions or doubts.

If I just had more faith God would answer my prayers.

If I just had more faith he wouldn’t have died; she would have recovered.

If I just had more faith I would be more involved in the church.

If I just had more faith I would be a better person, a better parent, a better spouse.

If I just had more faith I would know what to do, I would handle things better. 

If I just had more faith life would be different.

It is an approach to faith at least as old as the apostles’ own faith.

It is the approach they have taken in today’s gospel. “Increase our faith,” they ask Jesus.

Jesus has just warned them not to become stumbling blocks to others and enjoined them to forgive as often as an offender repents even if it is seven times in one day.

That will be difficult.

It will be a challenge to live that way.

“Increase our faith,” is their response.

It seems like a reasonable request.

If a little is good a lot must be better.

If McDonald’s can supersize our fries and drink surely Jesus can supersize our faith.

The request to increase our faith, the belief that if I had more faith things would be different, reveals, at best, a misunderstanding of faith itself and, at worst, demonstrates our own unfaithfulness.

Jesus is very clear that faithfulness is not about size or quantity.

“If you had faith the size of a mustard seed,” he says, “you could say to this mulberry tree, ‘Be uprooted and planted in the sea,’ and it would obey you.”

Faith is not given to us in a packet to be spent as currency in our dealings with God.

Faith is not measured out according to how difficult the task or work before us.

Faith is not a thing we have or get.

Faith is a relationship of trust and love.

It means opening ourselves to receive another’s life and giving our life to another.

That other one is Jesus the Christ.

That one faith-relationship is determinative of who we are and how we live.

Faith is not about giving intellectual agreement to a particular doctrine or idea.

Faith is not about how much or how strongly we believe Jesus’ words or actions.

When we speak about a married couple’s faithfulness we do not mean they believe or agree with each other’s ideas or even a particular understanding of marriage.

They are faithful because they have committed themselves to each other in love and trust.

They are faithful because they continually give their life to the other and receive the other’s life as their own.

They are faithful because they carry with them that one relationship wherever they go, in all that they are and all that they do.

So it is in our faith-relationship with Jesus.

Faith will not, however, change the circumstances of our lives.

Instead, it changes us.

Living in faith does not shield us from the pain and difficulties of life, it does not undo the past, and it will not guarantee a particular future.

Rather, faith is the means by which we face and deal with the circumstances of life – the difficulties and losses, the joys and successes, the opportunities and possibilities.

Faith does not get us a pat on the back, a reward, or a promotion in God’s eyes.

It is simply the way in which we live and move and have our being so that, at the end of the day, the faithful ones can say, without pride or shame, “We have done only what we ought to have done!”

Nothing more and nothing less.

We have lived in openness to, trust in, and love for Christ.

We have allowed him to guide our decisions, our words, and our actions. We have been sustained by him in both life and death.

Faith, however, is not lived out in the abstract.

It is practiced day after day in the ordinary everyday circumstances.

Some days when the pain and heaviness of life seem more than we can carry it is by faith, relationship with Jesus, that we get up each morning and face the reality of life.

Other days present other circumstances.

When we feel the pain of the world and respond with compassion by feeding the hungry, housing the homeless, speaking for justice;

when we experience the brokenness of a relationship and offer forgiveness and mercy;

when we see the downtrodden and offer our presence and prayers — in all those we have lived, seen, and acted by faith.

Then there are days when we feel powerless, lost, and do not know the way forward.

By faith we sit in silence and wait.

Faith, then, is how we live; the lens through which we see ourselves, others, and the world; the criterion by which we act and speak.

Faithfulness means that no matter where we go, no matter what circumstances we face we do so in relationship with the One who created, loves, sustains, and redeems us, the One who “abolished death and brought life and immortality to light through the gospel”

 (2 Timothy 1:10).

Jesus does not supersize our faith.

It is not necessary.

We live by faith not because we have enough faith but because we have faith, any faith, even mustard seed sized faith.

That is all we need.

Jesus believes that.

So should we.

The question is not how much faith we have but, rather, how are we living the faith we do have.

How is our faith, our relationship with Jesus, changing our lives, our relationships, the lives of others?

If it is not, more of the same will surely make no difference.

The mustard seed of faith is already planted within us.

It is Christ himself. 

He has withheld from us nothing.

We already have enough.

We already are enough.

We do not need more faith.

We need more response to the faith, the Christ, the mustard seed, the relationship we already have.

Question of the Week

Twenty-eighth Sunday in Ordinary Time

Saying thank you

Reading I                   2 Kings 5:14-17 (Elisha's cure of Naaman)

Reading 11                 2 Timothy 2:8-13 (Paul's faithfulness to the gospel)

Gospel                        Luke 17:11-19 (ten lepers)

Key Passage

Then one of the lepers, when he saw that he was healed, turned back, praising God with a loud voice. He prostrated himself at Jesus' feet and thanked him. And he was a Samaritan. (Luke 17:15-16)

Adult  Whose generosity do you tend to take for granted? How will you change this?

Child   When have you failed to say thank you? Why does this matter?

The Creed: continued

The Creed tells us that Jesus Christ is "the Only Begotten Son of God, born of the Father before all ages. God from God, Light from Light, true God from true God, begotten, not made, consubstantial with the Father."

This theologically dense language was forged in the crucible of a controversy that is almost completely alien to the modern mind. The Greco-Roman of late antiquity was a culture that cared passionately about ideas. It could not have imagined our present timidity, which keeps discussion of the important things locked safely in the closet while obsessing over sports and whatever Paris Hilton is doing today!

The question that nearly tore apart the fourth-century Church was not a trivial one. In plain English, it was Jesus' question: "Who do you say I am?” Peter's answer—"You are the Christ, the Son of the Blessed"—has always been the faith of the Church.

Jesus had, after all, claimed to be God, and he had showed that he wasn’t kidding by rising from the dead. Yet, while he insisted that he was God, he also did puzzling things like saying, "The Father is greater than I" (Jn 14:28). What did it all mean?

A fourth-century theologian named Arius was sure he knew. He declared that Jesus was a sort of godlet, not God with a capital G. He preached that Jesus was sort of like a super-archangel: greater than all other creatures (and so "divine" in comparison with the rest of creation), but not actually God. This seems abstract, but it actually constituted an assault on the most fundamental basics of the Christian faith, because if Jesus is not God, he can neither save nor give eternal life (that is, the life of God) to us.

The Council of Nicaea, in resolving this "Arian controversy," insists (following St. John) that Christ is "begotten, not made." Why? For the same reason we insist that our children are not the same as statues. An artist makes a statue; he begets a son. To beget is to share your nature with another being. God made human beings. But God the Father begets the Son eternally. The Son shares his Father's nature. And since the nature of the Father is to have no beginning, the Son also has no beginning. He is "born of the Father before all ages." In him is eternal life from the Father, and, therefore, he can share that life with us creatures.

The eternity of Christ is stunning to contemplate: that this manual laborer who stands before us with dirty feet, calloused hands, and a rough up-country accent is, in fact, the Being who has existed from all eternity in the blinding light of the heart of God, sharing completely in his glory and showing forth the express image of the Holy One who hurled all the galaxies into being. It is rather a lot to take in. It's no wonder the Son "emptied himself," as Paul says, becoming human and dimming his splendor so that our mortal eyes could see him.

And yet, even dimmed, he remains the Light of the World. When you look at the sun, do you see the sun or the light from the sun? Obviously, to do the one is to do the other. Christianity says the same thing is happening when you look at Christ. If you've seen the Son, you've seen the Father, for the Son is the exact representation of the Father, just as sunlight carries with it the exact representation of the sun from which it came. That is why the Creed calls Jesus "Light from Light."

The doctrine of the Trinity is frequently despised by our post-Christian culture as the archetype of sterile philosophical disputation. But in reality, it simply means that God is love. Jesus revealed to his startled hearers that God was most deeply one in the way a family is one. There exists within God the mystery of the family, of a Father who begets the Son in perfect self-donating love, of a Son who mirrors that love back to the Father in perfect adoration, and of a Holy Spirit who eternally proceeds from this mysterious union of Persons, yet all the Persons are one God. It was to take us into that eternal dance of glory that the Son came.

Just Follow Your (Informed) Conscience

Is it really that simple? Yes. No. Maybe! Yes, it's simple, but not quite that simple.

A woman steals food for her family when her unemployment runs out. A man decides not to report cash income on his taxes. When faced with moral decisions, people say that you must follow your conscience, and indeed that is what one must do. But how do we hear our consciences, and is it possible to follow one's conscience and still be wrong?

The Catholic Church teaches a principle called "primacy of conscience," which means that conscience is the ultimate authority and we're compelled to follow it: "A human being must always obey the certain judgment of his conscience" (Catechism of the Catholic Church, #1790). We must also make the effort to have an "informed" conscience: "The education of the conscience is a lifelong task" (CCC, #1784). "To this purpose, man strives to interpret the data of experience and the signs of the times assisted by the virtue of prudence, by the advice of competent people, and by the help of the Holy Spirit and his gifts" (CCC, #1788). In other words, it's not just doing what feels good.

So how does a person develop a well-formed conscience? Here are some traps as well as positive steps to consider in coming to decisions of conscience.

Traps to conscience formation

1. Rationalization. When faced with paying income taxes, it's tempting to think, Hey, rich people get big tax breaks. Is it really so wrong for me to fudge a little on my income tax return? Sometimes we so strongly want to do something (or avoid doing something) that we talk ourselves into (or out of) it. We find ways to justify our actions even though an outsider would spot flaws in our logic.

2. Scrupulosity. Another trap is being scrupulous about the letter of the law while missing its spirit. When Susan was a child, her godparents took her out for a lobster dinner every Good Friday. Technically, they kept the law of abstaining from meat, but a lobster dinner was hardly the sacrifice the law intended.

Sometimes avoiding scrupulosity might mean praying less formally or putting aside a man-made rule for the good of another person. This has pitfalls, of course, but when we are unsure, Scripture counsels that the final goal "is love that comes from a pure heart, a good conscience, and sincere faith" (1 Timothy 1:5).

3. Going along with the crowd. How could so many people be wrong? For years, most adults didn't think twice about driving after drinking. Just because it's common doesn't make it right. When we're in the minority, we need to have the courage to make unpopular decisions and use our voices respectfully. Decisions are stronger when many different voices are considered, but conscience is the final arbiter.

4. If it feels good, do it. Conscience shouldn't be guided solely by emotion. Following it may not coincide with happiness—at least not fleeting feelings of bliss. Eating half a dozen doughnuts may feel good—temporarily—but this affects one's long-term health. Conversely, taking medicine or studying for a test might not be pleasant but is conscientious. A feeling of uneasiness may be our conscience warning us, but feeling happy doesn't necessarily mean an action is O.K. Sometimes the best action might be restraint.

5. It's my body; it's my business. Just because I'm not directly harming another person doesn't mean my action is good. Drug addiction or pornography may seem like victimless crimes, but they not only hurt the doer, they also weaken the moral fabric of society.

Steps to forming a Christian conscience

The STOP method is an easy-to-remember framework for checking one's conscience.

S — Study. Decisions of conscience begin with knowledge. It's not a matter of being smart, but of making serious efforts to learn the facts from credible sources, such as reading what the Church teaches and consulting experts in the field. Don't just go on hearsay or Internet blogs.

T — Think Together. It's best not to make decisions in isolation. A married couple shouldn't make an important moral deci­sion without discussing it and coming to something mutually agreeable. In faith consensus before making a decision. In both situations, it involves evaluating and weighing the information gathered in the Study phase.

O — Others' Experiences. Wisdom is also carried by others who have had experi­ence with the issue. Consulting others whose experience has led them to differ­ent conclusions is a helpful way to sort out our rationalizations. Don't listen only to people with whom you agree.

P — Pray. Important decisions should always be brought to prayer so that we can check our rationalizations and be honest before God. Prayer provides us time to listen and sort. It's not the same as waiting for a magical sign from God, but rather noticing if we're at peace with the emerging decision.

Criteria for well-formed decisions

Done all the steps? Checked for traps? Still not sure? This quick version of conscience formation could be summed up by asking oneself two other questions: Is my contemplated decision life-giving? Is it generous? A well-formed conscience doesn't simply apply rules but brings the whole self to the decision and weighs how each decision will affect the common good.

Decisions are meaningless without actions. Sometimes it can feel satisfying just to keep thinking, sorting, weighing and praying. There are times, however, when a person of conscience has to act in a public way. For example, a whistle-blower may risk a job in order to bring attention to a faulty product or dishonest superiors. Writing letters to the editor or attending a public demonstration against unjust policies takes time and stretches our comfort level. Sometimes complaining can be the lazy alternative to investing the self-discipline it takes to come up with a concrete plan. Ah, what cost discipleship!

Permission to Publish received for this article, "Just Follow Your (Informed) Conscience" by Jim and Susan Vogt, from Rev. Joseph R. Binzer, Vicar General, Archdiocese of Cincinnati, 5-13-2010.