Homily for 6 Mar 2016

6 Mar 2016

4^th Sunday in Lent, Year C

We’re knee-deep into the election year, and it’s both frustrating and interesting.  The candidates are getting their positions out there—and we’re trying to figure out what their positions actually are.  The debates rage on—in the news, at home, at work, on social media.  We’re wondering who the final candidates will be, and who we’d vote for.  And some of us might be wondering how and what our Catholic faith has to say about it all.

I imagine the scene could be something like the drama there on the farm: two sons with different ideas of how things are supposed to be (and, no doubt, many others also who are there to take sides with one son or the other).  We might even consider which son we’d align ourselves with.  But in the middle all that drama on the farm is the father.

If our country today has a “father,” it could be the Catholic faith.  Of course, it isn’t exactly the same as on the farm; after all, the Catholic Church is not head of the United States.  And there are lots of people who really couldn’t care less what the Church has to say; for them, maybe the excitement is in watching politicians (the two brothers) just duke it out themselves, until one of them is victorious.  But, for us Catholics, our faith does play (something of) the role of the father in politics, especially in an election year.

Now, on the one hand, the father (in the parable) seems kind of weak.  I mean, the younger son says: “Give me my inheritance.”  And the father just lets him have it; no arguments.  And then that son comes back, and the father doesn’t scold him or anything.  It seems like the younger son is able to just walk all over him.  Even with the older son, the father sounds weak.  I mean, it doesn’t sound like he ever told his son that everything was his to share; he sounds like a poor communicator, at least.  And he doesn’t seem to have been able to soften his son’s heart and bring a reconciliation between the two. 

The father seems to be rather weak.  Of course, that’s how the Catholic Church is sometimes viewed in relation to politics: weak and irrelevant, at best—or, at worst, a meddlesome voice that disrupts the flow of things.  But, on the flip side, the father (and the Church) is rather strong.

He respects the autonomy of each son to make up their own minds.  He holds firm to the values of family, mercy, and forgiveness.  He doesn’t favor one son over the other, but treats them both the same.  He doesn’t compromise on principles—not even if it means losing a son.  He’s there for everyone, equally.  And he’s a stable presence, and generous with good things.  In all those ways, the father is actually quite strong.  And those are the same strengths the Church brings to the arena of politics.

Chances are, you’ll never hear the Church endorse one candidate or another; you won’t hear the Church side with this political party or that political party.  And that might sound weak or wishy-washy, but that’s where the strength of our faith comes in; the Church is very much like the father in the parable—the Church is interested in “preaching the principles” of a good and just society, and then people are free to take them or leave them.  The strength that our faith brings to politics and elections is the strength of stable principles.  Those principles are what we bring to the ballot box.

And, just like the older son and the younger son, our political parties and candidates are neither entirely right nor entirely wrong.  Both sides embody Catholic values and principles, and both sides do not embody Catholic values and principles.  And so, either way, whomever we vote for will require us to compromise something of our Catholic faith.  The question is always: What to compromise on.

And in the middle of that decision which each of us has to make at the polls, is the stable, principle-driven Church (like the father in the parable).  When we consider the candidates and parties, and the issues at stake now at this time in history, we remember our Catholic principles.  For instance, from God our Creator we have the right to life, the right to personal freedom, the right to religious freedom, among many other rights and freedoms which reflect our basic human dignity. We also accept that we have the responsibility to care for the sick and those in need, to be a champion of the underdog, to be the presence of our merciful God to all we meet.

Then there’s the Catholic principle of “subsidiarity:” the idea that within relationships between larger entities and smaller entities, what can be handled on the smaller, more local level should be handled there.  And that’s also a reflection of human dignity, and the right and responsibility of the individual, the family, and the local community to live up to their own God-given potentials.  And so, practically speaking, the principle of subsidiarity affects our view of government: Big government or small government?  It affects our view of social welfare: When and how to help, and is it possible to help too much?

When we wade through all the positions the candidates and parties put out, it’s like trying to be the mediator between the prodigal son and his unforgiving brother—Who do you pick when neither is entirely right nor entirely wrong?  Again, it comes back to the question of :What part of your Catholic faith are you willing to compromise on?

When the younger son came home, mercy was more important to the father than punishment.  Punishment has its place and its value, but in the grand scheme of things, mercy wins out.  And when the older son was unforgiving, truth was more important to the father than appeasement.  And this brings up an important Catholic principle we bring to the ballot box: the principle that not all issues and values have the same weight.

For instance, human life is more important than tax law.  Immigration is more important than, say, gun control.  But it’s not all black-and-white, of course.  Because gun control affects human life; it also affects person freedom.  Human life is more important than fiscal policy, and yet, fiscal policy affects human life and dignity.  And the right of a people to govern themselves is to be protected; yet so is the responsibility of that society let itself be governed by some universal principles.

Politics and this election year we’re in are both frustrating and interesting.  There’s a lot to consider as the sides make their cases.  But in the middle of all that—as Catholics—are the principles of our Catholic faith.  They’re like a big sounding board that we test political views against.  Some views are good for humanity; others aren’t quite so.  But like the father which the Church is, I can’t tell you who to vote for, or what position to take.  I can only pass along the principles of our faith, and then say: “You are your own person.”  As the father said to his two sons in so many words: The decision is yours.  The decision is yours.