(Transcript from a homily given at the Novena of Grace, St Ignatius Church, Portland, Oregon. Spring 2019)

Eternal reward. Eternal punishment. I was in the first grade when I learned about sins, mortal and venial, and about heaven and hell, and eternity. I tried to wrap my little head around all of it, especially the part about eternity, the forever and ever and ever part; it was keeping me up at night. And so, one night, I crept into my parents’ room and tapped my mom on her shoulder. She arose as she always did when awakened by one of her many children: in one fell swoop, throwing on her robe, putting her hands on my tiny shoulders, looking me in the eye, ready for anything. I told her my concerns, to which she replied, “Ann, you will never go to hell, but you will go to sleep. Now.” She turned me around and I headed back to bed. But, as comforting as I found her certainty, what I hadn’t quite been able to tell her was I didn’t want to be anywhere forever. I still have some measure of struggle with that concept, and so, I have chosen to focus on the powerful concept from today’s reading which I struggle not to understand but to faithfully follow.

“Whatever you do for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you do for me.”

These brothers and sisters of Jesus, these brothers and sisters of ours, brothers and sisters who are hungry and thirsty and sick, and unclothed, and in prison, both strangers and those known to us, offer us the greatest of gifts. In seeking to alleviate their suffering, to comfort them, to feed them, to visit them, to know them, we are brought directly into communion with God, through our connection to the Eternal love that binds us, each to the other.

It’s not hard to see all around us those who suffer visibly, those who are most clearly the “least of our brothers and sisters”. They are under our bridges, camped on our streets, in line at shelters and soup kitchens. And there are many ways that we can serve them: bringing staples to food banks, volunteering to make and deliver meals, contributing to the many non-profits in the city whose mission is to serve the poor and disenfranchised. I know that in your lives, and in the life of this parish and school, you have served in these ways. And I, too, have tried in my life to seek out opportunities to make a difference in the lives of others, giving back from all that I have been given.

Lately though, I have asked myself if I am doing enough? Am I living fully the path of Love, the command to serve in Love? Am I looking beyond the very obvious? I see the person with the sign begging for change who I have passed each morning and evening on my way to Church during this Novena, but what about those whom my biases, conscious and unconscious, prevent me from seeing as in need? What of the person isolated in the huge home who is lonely, wanting to be invited to our community? What of the person whose political views I may disagree with, but who is thirsty for someone to understand the fear that drives their views, to be understood and not just dismissed? What of my friend who is Black or Asian or Hispanic and longs to share with me the many ways this culture of intolerance is hurting them, that I might be better able to advocate for change? What about the young person, locked into their iPhone, who suffers in a prison of loneliness and depression longing for someone to connect with more honestly and deeply?

Realizing that the needs I am not seeing might be even greater than those I see clearly is daunting, and I want to close the door I just opened to that possibility. It’s overwhelming and makes me feel inadequate and afraid. Until, that still small voice inside reminds me that I am not alone, that I carry within me and walk beside others seeking to do good, to be of service, to seek justice and peace through Love.

Much of this Novena has offered powerful messages on what we are called to do and be in our lives. We have reflected on what it means to find a way into the words of Jesus and not out of them; what is meant by leaving everything to find everything, how Lent is an opportunity to cultivate a merciful heart; what it means to act justly in love, how imagination can make our faith more real; what it means to carry the cross of revolution; and, about the abundance of God.

As Joseph has said, we are going deeper and deeper into this Novena as each day passes, and with this, my last reflection, I’d like to speak more personally to you about the powerful experience I have had with you through these days of prayer.

When Joseph called to invite me to participate, I was a little incredulous. Joseph knows me deeply. He has walked many paths with me, and even sailed many miles with me. He has stood by my side on some of my darkest days, repeating in those times when all hope seemed lost his mantra that the light is stronger than the darkness. ALWAYS.

He knew, when he called, that I have had a complicated relationship with the institutional Church over the last several years, that I have been deeply troubled by the mounting challenges that keep unfolding as our Church seeks a way forward. He also knows that I was raised a Catholic, religiously and culturally, the oldest girl in a family of 8 children. Educated at Catholic institutions. He knows that I trace my core values back to the best of the Church: the teachings of love, giving unto others, and working for social justice, equity and stewardship. And, finally, he knows that many honorable and holy priests, and amazing nuns, have been a witness to those values in my life, he and my brother included. And so, he said, that is why he called. Now I stand before you deeply grateful that he did.

I cannot say what I have brought to this Novena, but I can tell you what I am taking away from it. I came here unsure about what was becoming of our Church, and I am leaving here knowing it is in good hands, in your hands. I was a stranger and you embraced me, I was hungry for a sign that the core values of love and service and working for peace and justice in love, still existed, and you have been that sign. You have offered me your insights, your fears, your humor, your faith, your guidance, your support. I came here to participate in this Novena of Grace with an open heart, to be led in the way Everlasting, and it is you who have led me.

I will continue to pray for all of you and your deepest desires, with love and with gratitude.