|
Nearly a decade ago, before Sister Julia Walsh began her podcast Messy Jesus Business (FYI - her next guest will be Fr. James Martin, SJ on 1/30!), I was invited to write a reflection for her blog, which also went by the same name. It was 2016, and I had recently attended a concert at the Pabst Theater in Milwaukee by Irish musician Glen Hansard. One of the songs that he sings, titled "Her Mercy", has as its refrain:
And when you’re ready … for her mercy … and you’re worthy … it will come.
At that time, I shared how Pope Francis was inviting us into a Year of Mercy.
"He did so without precondition, without limitation; not everyone may be ready, but we are all worthy and it will come. The works of mercy, much like the beatitudes, are concrete examples of the Gospel carried out. ...The difficulty of promoting mercy though, is that we must also be willing to participate in the pursuit of justice for it to come."
Last week, Episcopal Bishop Mariann Budde invited not only the current administration, but in a way, each one of us, to consider mercy when we encounter the stranger. Her plea was not antagonistic, it was not a reproach, but a reminder and an invitation to consider the human behind the label.
And when you’re ready … for her mercy … and you’re worthy … it will come.
On Sunday, I had the opportunity to attend the installation of Pastor Kathryn Thompson, a wonderful human being, as campus minister for LuMin - an organization which serves our three colleges in La Crosse for the Lutheran church. It was my first time attending a Lutheran service, and I so appreciated the invitation.
Bishop Felix Malpica gave the homily, and in addressing Kathryn, and those of us in attendance, he repeatedly reminded us that "the love of God calls us to act differently." Responding to the passage about being the salt of the earth (Matthew 5:13-16), he implored those gathered to not lose their saltiness. Our neighbors and our communities are in need of our story - a Gospel which calls us to love the stranger (the immigrant), to speak out against injustice, and to challenge when necessary. "Don't lose your salt," he instructed those gathered. We ended in a sendoff that took me back to being a student at Viterbo while sitting in San Damiano as Earl Madary and the choir sang, "We Are Marching in the Light of God."
And when you’re ready … for her mercy … and you’re worthy … it will come.
|