We can see this on television, we hear it in protests , and we even notice it by yard signs placed in people’s lawns.
Yet, I’m sure what we all want is peace.
Peace in our nation; peace on our streets; peace in our homes; peace in our hearts.
***
Today we celebrate the feast of Saint Wenceslaus, who like us wanted peace in his nation.
Born into a royal family in Bohemia – modern day Czech Republic – he became ruler of the kingdom at a very young age.
But his nation, like ours, was a house divided, largely because of religion. Bohemia was a Christian nation, but there also were anti-Christian factions inciting riots.
Wenceslaus made it his mission to bring his nation together, working for unity as Christ commanded us to do.
But when he was 22 years old, he was murdered while on his way to Mass by his brother and other revolutionaries, tearing his nation apart.
***
For centuries, Wenceslaus has been remembered as a righteous king, leaving an example for other royals – and ordinary Christians like us – to follow.
When we see our society splintering, we cannot remain silent. We must be proactive in working for peace.
But if Christ is our standard, then we believe that lasting peace only comes through love, honesty, humility, and forgiveness.
Not weapons, hate speech, or mudslinging. And certainly not by posting online slanderous or hurtful words about people we disagree with.
Peace demands humility.
***
How, then, might I be an agent of peace in America today?
(Below is Sunday’s Gospel passage, followed by Sunday’s sermon):
“Jesus said to the chief priests and elders of the people: “What is your opinion?
A man had two sons. He came to the first and said, ‘Son, go out and work in the vineyard today.’ He said in reply, ‘I will not, ‘ but afterwards changed his mind and went. The man came to the other son and gave the same order. He said in reply, ‘Yes, sir, ‘but did not go. Which of the two did his father’s will?”
They answered, “The first.” Jesus said to them, “Amen, I say to you, tax collectors and prostitutes are entering the kingdom of God before you. When John came to you in the way of righteousness, you did not believe him; but tax collectors and prostitutes did. Yet even when you saw that, you did not later change your minds and believe him.”
(Matthew 21: 28-32)
***
When the English author G.K. Chesterton was asked, “What is wrong with the world?”
He replied, “I am.”
***
Most of us would answer differently.
What’s wrong with the world?
Democrats. Republicans. Independents. Other people.
Terrorism. Corruption. Racism. COVID. Wildfires. The flu.
Anything – and anyone – but me.
***
***
So, why would Chesterton, a devout Christian, say he’s part of what’s wrong with the world?
He wasn’t taking personal responsibility for all of the world’s problems. But he was acknowledging the role he’s played in it.
Like the first son in today’s Gospel, Chesterton admits to ignoring his conscience at times, to saying “no” to doing his Father’s will.
But like that first son, he also repents.
That’s the essence of the Christian journey: We acknowledge our sins, we seek forgiveness, and we strive to do better.
As hear we hear every Ash Wednesday while ashes are being traced on our forehead: “Repent and believe in the Gospel.”
***
Most of us would admit that we’re generic sinners. As the old saying goes, “Nobody’s perfect.”
But we shouldn’t take comfort in that old adage. Nobody wants to live in an imperfect world. Too often it leaves us bruised and broken. And God – not us – gets the blame.
As Christians we’re challenged to piece our broken world back together; to leave our sins behind; to love God with all our heart and our neighbor as ourselves.
***
Key to such spiritual growth is not only practicing virtue, but also naming our vice.
We must be honest with ourselves – and with one another – about what we struggle with in order to effect real change.
Alcoholics understand this well.
Whenever a person speaks at an Alcoholics Anonymous meeting, for example, they must begin by stating their name and the reason why they’re there.
For example, “Hi, I’m ‘so and so’ and I’m an alcoholic.”
Only then will others listen.
I remember hearing my mother say those words: “Hi, I’m Vicki and I’m an alcoholic,” when I attended an AA meeting to celebrate her 10th anniversary of sobriety.
It was truly humbling to watch.
That rigorous level of honesty enabled her to overcome, perhaps, the deepest struggle of her life. But as she often said to me, “I stay honest in order to stay sober.”
That’s the type of rigorous honesty – and accountability – we also need to practice as Christians.
***
So, “What’s wrong with the world?”
At times, “I am.”
I’m a Christian.
But I can also be proud, impatient, and greedy.
I can be like the first son in the Gospel who ignores his conscience and says “no” to doing his father’s will, but later repents, namely in confession.
***
What’s the alternative?
To see ourselves like the second son. To say “yes” to doing our Father’s will but fail to carry it out.
For example, Jesus teaches us to love our enemies; to pray for those who persecute us; to turn the other cheek; to forgive without limits; to clothe and feed the poor; to see Christ in every person.
These are some of the core tenets of our faith. And every Sunday we profess our willingness to put these beliefs into practice.
But how often does our faith fizzle out somewhere between Monday morning and Saturday night?
Maybe someone hurt us last week and we refuse to forgive them. Maybe we turned on the news this morning and found our blood boiling over politics.
Maybe we find ourselves constantly judging others who disagree with us. Maybe we’ve purchased more than we need or have given less than we can.
Faith is a full-time commitment – and a very difficult one at that. If we’re honest, it’s easy to “say”that we’re a Christian, but much harder to “be” a Christian all day, every day.
***
So, “What’s wrong with the world?”
At times, “I am.”
I’m a Christian.
But I don’t always act like it.
I suppose I’m like the tax collectors and prostitutes in today’s Gospel. Although they’re imperfect, they strive to be better.
And for that Jesus blesses them, promising they’ll enter the kingdom of God before the chief priests and scribes who say they’ll do the Lord’s will, but don’t actually do it.
So, what about you?
How is the Lord inviting you to repent and believe in the Gospel? Or, how are you being challenged to live your faith on a deeper level?
“There is an appointed time for everything,” we hear in our first reading from Ecclesiastes.
“A time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to uproot the plant. A time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn and a time to dance.”
We might add today, “A time to be close, and a time to quarantine; a time to go to school and a time to learn online; a time to be employed and a time to be unemployed; a time to be united and a time to be divided.”
There are many times – or seasons – in life.
If COVID’s taught us anything, it’s how little control we have over them.
The challenge is finding something beautiful in every season, particularly in the present moment because it’s all we have.
***
How can we see something beautiful in America today?
Millions are awakening to a life very different from the one they knew, whether they’ve lost everything to wildfires, floods, or COVID.
For them – and maybe for us – it’s a bitter season.
So, where’s the beauty?
***
Consider the hands of doctors and nurses caring for the sick; the scientists searching for a vaccine; the fourteen-hour days of firefighters saving lives and homes that are not their own; the volunteers organizing post-flood disaster relief.
And all the good we do for others – gestures that often go unnoticed.
***
In every season of life, there’s beauty to be found. There are good people doing good things, including us.
What, then, might we do for a neighbor in need today?
***
Even the smallest gesture of kindness can make a bitter season a little sweeter.
