SUNDAY
4 September 2016, 23rd Sunday Ordinary Time
• Wisdom 9:13-18b • Psalm 90 • Philemon
9-10, 12-17 • + Luke 14:25-33 •
Title:
“Take
up thy cross, follow me.
”
[__01__] In
2007, my grandfather was advanced in age having celebrated his 100th
birthday almost a year ago. He was now 100 years and three-quarters of a year old. After one hundred, we can
return to the small child’s practice of counting in both whole number integers
and fractions. Every interval is a milestone.
My grandfather was never fond of – or
inclined to – long speeches or explanations. He was a person of few words at
both sixty and one hundred.
One particular evening, I was visiting
him at his house in the Bronx, trying to help me him sit or change position in
his bed. I must have caused him discomfort or pain in my so-called assistance
or help.
He said to me with some disappointment
and discomfort, “You have to use your college education.” In other words, live up to your education, to your intelligence,
use your gifts.
Yes, I had gone to college. So use it or lose it as they say. That’s what
we say on the street, on the playground, in everyday language.
Jesus, our Savior, simply says, “Take up thy
cross and follow me.”
“Take up thy cross and follow me.”
[__03__] This Sunday – September 4, 2016 – at Saint
Peter’s Basilica in Vatican City, Mother Teresa of Calcutta will be canonized a
saint of the Church. “Canonization” is given to honor her heroic life, worthy
of imitation because she herself imitated Jesus Christ.
By following her holy example, we also
draw closer to God and use all of our ability, initiative, education to love
God and love our neighbor.
We may not do so in a slum of
Calcutta, we may not even do so in an environment of want or starvation. Nevertheless, each of us will be called upon
at times to serve someone, young or old, sick or healthy, who is unable to repay
us.
“Take up thy cross and follow me.”
[__04__] In
the life of Mother Teresa, we see
outstanding compassion and generosity.
At the time of the founding of her
order, Archbishop Ferdinand Perier of the Archdiocese of Calcutta observed this
about the Mother Teresa and her religious order founded as the “Missionaries of
Charity” …
“that those
who join [the Missionaries of Charity and Mother Teresa] are resolved to spend
themselves unremittingly in seeking out, in towns and villages, even amid
squalid surroundings, the poorer, the abandoned, the infirm, the dying …” [1]
For Mother Teresa and her sisters,
when the going gets tough, the tough get going.
“Take up thy cross and follow me.”
[__06__] In 2010 and 2011, I had two opportunities to encounter the
community founded by Mother Teresa and to experience the love and compassion of
their refuge, known in Haitian Creole as the “AZEAL” (A – Z – E – A –L), a word that means
“asylum” or refuge.
At the Azeal, in the city of Hinche in
the central plateau of Haiti. I had the opportunity to travel with Seton Hall
University students on these two – and other occasions.
But what I noticed on these occasions
was the mission and vision of Mother Teresa, in the care of the people and the
children – and one particular child – of Hinche.
[__07__] When you and I offer someone a refuge or
help, we do so without knowing what the result will be, whether it will be
appreciated, whether it will be noticed.
Consider the refuge we give to the
sick person in our family. At times, we may feel frustrated that he or she
takes medicine at the wrong times.
Or when someone asks for money. Is our
mercy a good investment?
Or when someone complains that our
help was insufficient.
“Take up thy cross and follow me.”
[__08__] At the Azeal, in Hinche, in Haiti, we were
instructed – by the example of the sisters – to persevere at such times. We wondered, at times, if our assistance to them and to the children and adults in their care was sufficient.
For example, the young children in the
nursery would welcome us as visitors, would clamor for attention and would long
to be held to receive some additional human contact, more than the sisters and
their workers could provide each day. We
were visiting to spend time with these children whose ages varied from newborn
up to five or six years old.
However, at the end of the visit, we
did not necessarily leave children who were resting comfortably and taking a
nap but rather increasing in their clamor for attention.
The cries were hard to hear, as we left their presence. We had to trust that what
little we had done … that this had made a difference.
“Take up thy cross and follow me.”
[__09__] During our May 2010 trip, we were at the
Azeal – the Missionaries of Charity refuge in Hinche – and we encountered a child suffering from a serious illness and
malnourishment.
The sisters were trying their best to restore his health, but this was not a pediatric
I.C.U. at Columbia Presbyterian. The
sisters themselves were vary capable and skilled in nursing, with I.V. drips,
tons of different medicine and therapies. They knew what to do. Nevertheless, the prognosis was not promising.
One of the sisters asked me to baptize
the boy.
So, with Tom, Seton Hall college
senior as our altar server, this infant was
baptized in the name of the father, and of the son, and of the Holy Spirit.
Jesus was offering him a refuge, abut
we did not know what the results of this refuge would be.
What this young man, Tom, remarked to me was that this baptism – this christening was different
from any other. There was only our prayer,
the water, and the Holy Spirit.
There were no invitations, there were
no outfits, there were no
parents. His parents were not even present. We were the witnesses.
There was no candle, there was no
food. There were also no balloons. Tom
was really focused on the balloons,
though he himself knew this was
superficial.
We left the Azeal that day and Haiti
later in the week. We passed through
Port-au-Prince which had suffered massive devastation and the death of over
200,000 people in the earthquake of that year.
“Take up thy cross and follow me.”
[__10__] Six months later, I returned to Hinche with a
different group of Seton Hall students.
And, naturally, we returned to the Azeal
where there were new children in the
nursery and hospital.
I did not expect to see the boy whom
we had baptized. Indeed , he was not there.
One of the sisters came up to me. I
was astonished first that she remembered
me six months later and exactly
what happened at that afternoon christening in the nursery. I had not even
asked, the sister volunteered this to me…
“You know, Father, the boy you
baptized, he got better, he is home.”
Praise
God and the work of the Azeal and their
refuge and the devotion of the sisters which reminded me that one day in
your courts is better than a thousand
elsewhere. (Psalm 84)
It was also so kind of the sister to
remember and associate me – six months
later. After all, she had been there
every day.
Perhaps, my part had not been that
small. Perhaps, none of our gifts is that small or so unnoticed.
This is our education.
“Take up thy cross and follow me.”
St.
Teresa of Calcutta, Pray for Us.
[__fin__] 
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