Hearing The Cry of The Broken

Summary of a Fr. Gerry Creedon homily from October 28, 2007

"Oh God, I thank you I am not like the rest of humanity." Luke 18:12

Ted, a cousin of mine, was a colorful local character who had an Irish fondness for the juice of the barley. However he was strict in his practice of religion. The local Parish Priest, recognizing the shortage of priests for Easter confession, decided to offer a form of general absolution after Sunday mass. Instead of individual confession, penitents presented themselves at the altar rail saying," Lord have mercy on me a sinner.." Ted left his usual perch on the gallery stairs at back of church and made a drive up the center aisle to where his auntie Gretta, my mother, was positioned on the third row from the front. As certain penitents moved up the main aisle, Ted would nudge my mother and whisper audibly, "Hypocrite". My mother reluctantly and with secret delight approved the accuracy of his judgment of the neighbors..

In his own way Jesus critiqued the congregation in this Sunday's Gospel. The Pharisee, like many an upright Catholic was diligent in the external obligations, praying, fasting and giving. In fact the ten percent of the income he tithed is more generous than most. Yet Jesus points out the pride and arrogance of his inner attitude. He thought he was better than the rest. I acknowledge that if you are part of an outstanding parish like St. Charles it is hard to be humble, most particularly if you are its pastor!

Christ holds up the tax collector. He was despised, as are people who attempt to raise taxes to this day. Besides he was raising money for an occupying empire, and skimming the wages of the poor for his own benefit. His wealth did not save him from the rejection of the public. His prayer saved him, "Lord, have mercy on me a sinner." He was humble and vulnerable. He went home justified.

Both of these Gospel figures were men of stature and power. By way of contrast, the first reading and the psalm focus on the poor. "The prayer of the lowly pierces the clouds." He attends to the complaint of the oppressed. "The Lord hears the cry of the poor."

I remember a jail Mass when a tender young woman from Cambodia assisted with the wine and water, and read this same Psalm refrain. I wondered why someone so beautiful and so fragile should be in detention. After Mass she told me she would not be there next week. I assumed she was about to be released. No such luck. she had just received her sentence, 25 years of incarceration in Virginia's penal system. She claimed that her ex-husband, who had given her a gun for her protection some time before, had notified her then that he was coming to shoot her mother and child. In desperation she shot him first. I am no expert in these matters, but I thought that if she could afford a better attorney she might have been able to win a more lenient sentence. It may be true that "The Lord hears the cry of the poor," but, "Does the law?" More close to home "Do we hear the cry of the poor?" God's people are His human intermediaries, His eyes and His ears.

There is a connection between the Hebrew Scriptures and the Gospel, though the Gospel seems to focus on interior conversion, and the first readings on compassion.

I was reminded of this connection last Saturday night. I was at a wedding reception in an elegant hotel. There were long draping table cloths. I slipped off my shoes underneath the table as I relaxed. Some time later when I went to leave, I felt for my shoes, and found them. I was surprised to discover that I had lost a sock in the search. Despite my discreet attempts to fumble to find it, I had to give up. I attempted with success, I believe, to depart the scene without my bare ankle coming to attention. I learned from my predicament to have some empathy for people who are "beginning to lose it."

It is precisely the rediscovery of our inner vulnerability that opens our hearts to the poor and the oppressed of the earth. The broken tax collector will hear the cry before the righteous Pharisee.