Only Love Can Overcome Division
by Fr. Rich Andre, C.S.P.
September 28, 2021

Paulist Fr. Rich Andre preached this homily on the 26th Sunday of Ordinary Time (Year B) on September 26, 2021, at St. Austin Catholic Parish in Austin, TX. The homily is based on the day’s readings: Numbers 11:25-29; Psalm 19; James 5:1-6; and Mark 9:38-48.

Our Scripture passages feature two very devoted disciples misunderstanding what it means to be devoted to God. Joshua, Moses’ assistant in the Book of Numbers, complains that God has given the gift of prophecy to two men who weren’t gathered with the rest of the elders. John, one of Jesus’ closest companions, complains in our gospel passage about someone outside of the Twelve casting out demons in Jesus’ name.

These complaints may seem silly or childish at first, but they are deadly relevant. Jesus himself was crucified because the religious leaders did not consider him an insider who should be teaching with authority. 

Let us ask God for the mercy to embrace all people as our brothers and sisters.

Lord Jesus, you came to reconcile us to one another and to the Father. Lord, …

Christ Jesus, you heal the wounds of sin and division. Christ, have mercy.

Lord Jesus, you intercede for us with your Father. Lord, have mercy.


It’s hard to believe it, but it was six years ago this week that Pope Francis visited the United States for six days. Although Francis is merely the vicar of Christ, not Christ himself, the trajectory of his first eight-and-a-half years as pope resembles the journey of Jesus in the Gospel of Mark in notable ways. 

Back in those simpler times of September 2015, much of the media gave Francis glowing coverage no matter what he did. At the beginning of Mark’s gospel, Jesus amazed the crowds wherever he went and whatever he did, no questions asked. But as Francis and Jesus continued their ministries and preached about how some religious leaders were over-emphasizing rules to the detriment of proclaiming God’s mercy, the religious authorities opposed them. Two weeks ago in Bratislava, when asked how he was doing, Francis replied, “I’m still alive, even though some people wanted me to die.”1 It’s not an exact parallel to Jesus foretelling his crucifixion and death, but the point is clear for all of us: if we follow the gospel closely enough, we will eventually face our own cross.

Francis has pushed the Church to minister to those on the peripheries. He has suggested that there may be circumstances when divorced and remarried people may receive communion, leading some of his own cardinals to publicly challenge him. He has spoken against the excesses of unbridled capitalism with the intensity of today’s reading from James, prompting some prominent people to question Francis’ legitimacy as pope. It’s no wonder that the journalist Christopher Lamb has titled his biography of Francis The Outsider!

 

Even the best-meaning people can bristle at the well-meaning intentions of people that they consider to be outsiders. Even Joshua and John – two heroes of the Bible, for heaven’s sake – quickly condemned people who did good things but didn’t belong to their same group. 

Jesus, on the other hand, reserves his condemnation for the people who lead others into sin. But before we make lists of people to throw into the sea, hold on! Jesus condemns leading others into sin, but he doesn’t call for us to cast these people out of the community. Instead he asks us to examine the tendencies in ourselves that lead us put up walls among ourselves. 

Today, we live in an era of spiraling defeniveness and division. We keep cutting people out of our own spheres of influence. In politics – and in religion – we are quick to fight not only with those who oppose us, but also with people who agree with us but we find not sufficiently partisan, tribal, or ideologically “pure” for our personal tastes. 

When Pope Francis visited the United States, he repeatedly demonstrated the common bonds all people have in needing God’s love, grace, and mercy, rather than focusing on what divides us. When he talked with homeless people, he said, “The Son of God knew what it was to start life without a roof over his head.”2 When he met school children, he showed that he was a life-long learner when the children taught him how to use a SmartBoard.3 When he met with victims of clergy abuse, he said: “It is engraved in my heart, the stories, suffering and pain of the children abused by priests…. I am deeply sorry. God cries.”4

In speech after speech, Francis challenged all of us to do likewise. Instead of using our power to cut people off, Francis urges us to dialogue with those who are powerless. At the United Nations, he quoted a poem about the importance of cooperation: “if you fight among yourselves, you’ll be devoured by those outside.”5




Francis based his speech to the U.S. Congress – which he also intended as an address to all of us living in this country – on four famous Americans who, while not perfect, had excellent bridge-building skills. He spoke of Abraham Lincoln, who filled his cabinet with political opponents in his quest to unite the country. He spoke of Martin Luther King, Jr., who enlisted the help of religious leaders of all stripes in the fight for the rights for people of color. He spoke of Thomas Merton, the Trappist monk who reached out to members of Eastern religions as he sought pathways of prayer and peace. And he spoke of Dorothy Day, who radically recognized the dignity of the poorest among us, even the dignity of those people most difficult to love.

On his trip, Francis’ strongest words about bridge-building in a time of bitter partisanship may have been issued to us Catholics. As he passionately preached at the World Meeting of Families: “Division of hearts cannot overcome any difficulty. Only love is able to overcome.”6

Would that all of us were such prophets!


Notes: