Thirteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time

Lectionary: 97

Are you unaware that we who were baptized into Christ Jesus were baptized into his death? We were indeed buried with him through baptism into death, so that, just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, we too might live in newness of life.


Christians and Catholics today find ourselves under severe criticism from many directions. A tradition of contempt for organized religion began with the Enlightenment in the eighteenth century when Reason was idolized; today the most ignorant louts employ the same contempt as they scoff at belief. Innumerable schisms within the Church, with their animosities, invite mockery from outsiders. A perpetually evolving culture, suffering future shock, cannot be bothered with outmoded expressions of faith and piety. 
And, worst of all, betrayal from within our ranks -- sexual exploitation, harrassment, and abuse plus larceny and financial mismanagement -- demoralize even the most devout. Finally, there is the anti-Semitism, sexism, and racism that creep into our language and poison our relations with minority groups. 
Christians have always had a way of addressing these challenges, the practices of penance. But we hear little mention of that virtue and its attendant rituals today. Many, perhaps most, Catholics rarely approach the confessional. As a VA hospital chaplain, I might hear a half-dozen confessions in a good year. Many Protestant Americans had their tent revivals in which their preachers accused them of sin and they enthusiastically begged the Lord for forgiveness. I don't hear of these practices anymore. 

We have indeed been baptized into the death of Christ. Today's gospel invites us to explore this "death of Christ" more deeply:

...whoever does not take up his cross and follow after me is not worthy of me.

And so we look at -- and look for -- our traditions of sin. Recently I reminded several Knights of Columbus that, "If you checked white on your census form or driver's licence, you became the heir of slave owners."
Before the Civil War, Americans were classed as free or slave. There were some free African-Americans; a few of them were wealthy; some owned slaves! After the War there was a general reallignment and Americans were either black or white. Post-war European immigrants, fresh off the boat, eagerly signed on as white. Even today, African immigrants are assigned to black, with all its attendant disadvantages.  
Catholic bishops in the southern states, pressured to evangelize recently-freed slaves, found few priests willing to take on the work. Josephite and Paulist missionaries took it up, but even they were reluctant to ordain men of African descent. I met a black priest of my own generation who applied to a dozen seminaries before he was accepted. Each one required a photograph, none offered an explanation for their refusal. 
African-American Catholics, relocating out of their black neighborhoods into suburbia, are immediately welcomed to attend a nearby Protestant church. Should they enter a Catholic church they're often greeted with a whisper, "This is a Catholic church!" 

Baptized into the death of Christ, we admit we have not actively invited strangers -- white, black, hispanic, native, or asian -- to our congregations. 

Jesus did not remain in Galilee waiting for people to come to him. He travelled from village to burg to city announcing the Kingdom of God and preaching penance for the remission of sins. Wherever he went he made people feel welcome by healing their bodies and welcoming them to the table. Catholics revere the Blessed Mother who, despite her Assumption into Heaven, has miraculously appeared as a missionary in countless places! 
We too might live in newness of life when this pandemic lifts, by inviting everyone, "We're going to Mass. You come too!"