Months ago my pastor assigned me to preach this coming weekend for Divine Mercy Sunday. Neither of us had any idea at the time, of course, that Divine Mercy Sunday would follow the death of Pope Francis on Easter Monday. So now I am thinking about what God wants me to say in this new circumstance.
A homily is meant to be a collaboration with the Holy Spirit, and I find that writing a homily is for me, in a special way different from other kinds of writing, an act of discovery, so that I don’t know what I will preach about until I find the homily taking shape. At any rate, I will have nothing to say about the passing of Pope Francis in this space before this weekend.
Here is what I can say: I will be thinking this week about the relationship between Easter, Divine Mercy Sunday, the Extraordinary 2016 Jubilee of Mercy called by Pope Francis, and the current 2025 Jubilee of Hope. I will of course be looking at his final word, his 2025 Urbi et Orbi message.
Mercy is a major theme in Francis’s thought, and is closely connected in his thought to Easter; eight years ago he said that “mercy is the keystone of the life of faith, and concrete way with which we give visibility to the Resurrection of Jesus.” Mercy and hope are closely related. (Pope Benedict XVI, in his great encyclical on hope, Spe Salvi, doesn’t use the word “mercy” much, but he frequently uses “grace and justice” together in a way that makes grace synonymous with mercy.) To journey as “pilgrims of hope,” we must rely on the grace and mercy of God; and if we hope for mercy, we must be merciful.
These thoughts are not, obviously, unique to me; I’m sure homilists everywhere preparing to preach this coming weekend are contemplating similar thoughts. (Homilists contemplating other thoughts are welcome to share them here.) What single idea will emerge from these thoughts for my homily I don’t yet know. If you are so inclined, I would be grateful for any prayers.
Mercy, hope, and Pope Francis
Sisters and brothers, especially those of you experiencing pain and sorrow, your silent cry has been heard and your tears have been counted; not one of them has been lost!
You didn't ask for suggestions, and I'm not offering any, but here is what strikes my heart thinking about the readings this Sunday in the midst of mourning and remembering Pope Francis:
The Psalm says that God's mercy "endures forever" and in the second reading Christ says he's the First and Last. The name of God is Mercy, and the face of Mercy is the face of Christ. A Mercy that endures through all time and all things. A Mercy that conquers sin and suffering and death. A Mercy that searches for me until he finds me. A Mercy unafraid of my shame and sin.
That's the God who Pope Francis taught me to believe in.
Thank you for preaching this Sunday. Please share with us what the Lord leads to say.
On the subject of mercy: there's a story I sometimes tell when giving retreats, about Abraham Lincoln at the end of the Civil War. He was asked how he would treat the Southerners who had broken away. He replied, without hesitation: "I will treat them like they had never been away." I think Francis had a very similar notion of mercy and, like Lincoln, sought to live "with malice toward none, with charity toward all," seeking to summon "the better angels" of our nature. How we need that now!