• Wisdom 18:6-9. A remembrance of the night of Israel’s departure from Egyptian bondage
• Hebrew 11: 1-2, 8-19. Faith is confident assurance concerning that which we hope for. No matter the extant of human weakness, God’s promises are fulfilled; no matter how precious our gifts, we die to receive something still greater.
• Luke 12: 32-48. Let your belt be fashioned around your waist and your lamp be burning ready. The Son of Man will come when you least expect him.

Thoughts for your Consideration: By Fr. Stephen Dunn, CP

Why was the little parable in today’s Gospel important to St. Luke?  It would seem that he was not primarily concerned with any moral flaw that provoked the servants into getting “out of control.”   Rather, he highlighted their failure of imagination regarding the future.  Whatever they were making of the unpredictable timing of their master’s return, it did not translate into appropriate “waiting … so that they may open the door for him as soon as he comes and knocks.” 

What the servants in the parable experienced on a domestic scale, Luke could see reflected on a larger scale as his young Christian community coped with the frustrations of shaping their life of faith half a century after the Resurrection.  At that moment, there was great disappointment in the realization both that the Second Coming had not occurred immediately and was not likely to occur any time soon. 

The other two readings of today’s liturgy seem to propose a spiritual remedy for them: look back to your ancestors in the Faith and learn the robust attitudes with which they confronted their future.  It was not just a matter of passive waiting for Divine promises to be fulfilled, but active engagement in re-orienting their lives through perils such as family uprooting as well as challenges to deep loyalties, even that of parenthood (Abraham / Isaac). That is how we will learn the art of looking ahead with hope.  On the one hand there was the totally trustworthy promises spoken by God.  On the other hand, there was always a test of the strength of that trust.  Luke seems to have wished this lesson to take root in the midst of the post-Resurrection crisis of his community.

Accustomed as we are to two thousand years of Christian history, we do not feel the particular tension that Luke’s community felt when it looked to the future. But the Gospel story and the grouping of passages from Scripture in the liturgy today have a point to make for us as well. Our second reading from the Book of Hebrews asserts: “Faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen”. The very essence of faith is to expand our imaginations in hope. We must look to the quality of the imagination we bring to that task.  Are we looking for clarity about the ‘things unseen’ or are we creatively learning to trust?  The return of the master – the imagined future realized – is determined by the master, not the servant.

We do not lack for our own ‘ancestors’ in this quality of faith; to be “alert when the Master comes and knocks”.  The theologian Fr. John Coleman remembers an encounter with Mother Teresa in just that way.  He was in Calcutta for a month to experience work at the ‘house of the dying’ — part of the discernment of his future in ministry.  This is his account:

On the first morning I met Mother Teresa after Mass at dawn.  She asked, “And what can I do for you?” I asked her to pray for me. “What do you want me to pray for?” …“Pray that I have clarity.” She said no. That was that. When I asked why, she announced that clarity was the last thing I was clinging to and had to let go of. When I commented that she herself had always seemed to have the clarity I longed for, she laughed: “I have never had clarity; what I’ve always had is trust. So I will pray that you trust.”

This, Fr. Coleman remarks, put her squarely in the number of those “who had conviction about things unseen”. Trust does not function from clarity, but creatively waits for the ‘return of the master’.

If I were to name an ‘ancestor’ to whom to turn, it would be Pope John XXIII.  His “conviction about things unseen” was such a great inspiration to me because he audaciously summoned the Second Vatican Council.  It opened the windows, as he put it, for the Christian community of our own day, to breathe in the challenge of renewal and participation in the future of the world at large. It was so exhilarating that it seemed very easy to espouse. There were many partners in that exciting vision of a community learning the creativity of hope: great theologians and thinkers; committed and energetic lay leaders; teachers, students and inspired laity.  So many of them in the intervening years have become actual ancestors to us. 

Now, like St. Luke’s community we find ourselves about fifty years later, pondering the message of this parable. How creatively have our imaginations coped with the not-yet-arriving “things hoped for”?  As with the Exodus from Egypt, an unseen desert lay ahead.  It seems, like St. Luke’s community of old and the servants in the parable, our imaginations too need the example of our ancestors to face this challenge of absence. 

The liturgy today asks us whether our attitudes of disappointment or frustration (or even possibly more unruly ones) about half a century later are due to our need to mature in trust in ways we never dreamed of when our ‘conviction of things unseen’ was exciting but still not tested in any desert pilgrimage.  Like those in the parable, faith now summons us to learn the appropriate imaginative ‘waiting …so that we may open the door for him as soon as he comes and knocks.”

Unlike other religious traditions and institutions our Catholic Church is one of the most hierarchical religious systems in our world. While our church is open to the spiritual and cultural diversity of our faith, our own tradition and teachings are ultimately formulated through the highest governing body known as the Magisterium. It is the opinion of the Passionist office of Justice, Peace and the Integrity of Creation that the Catholic Church does have a unified position on the principle of this issue. Our own Passionist spirituality values this position. While the Catholic Church does have a position on the principle of this issue it does not offer a detail policy for how to carry out this principle, but the position does lend itself to contemplate certain policy direction.

The Catholic Position:
When we compare the various opinions of the Catholic American community on this subject it is noticeable that there is one fundamental question that tends to split the community into two camps that are either in favor or against universal healthcare. Is healthcare a basic human right or not? If you accept that people have the right to good healthcare then you will generally support some model of universal healthcare. On the other hand if you disagree with this position then healthcare is not a social responsibility but an individual’s privilege.

The Catholic Church does have a position with regards to this question. Healthcare is a basic human right. Catholic social teaching affirms this in the encyclical by Pope John XXIII known as Pacem in Terris:

#11: Man has the right to live. He has the right to bodily integrity and to the means necessary for the proper development of life, particularly food, clothing, shelter, medical care, rest, and, finally, the necessary social services. In consequence, he has the right to be looked after in the event of ill health; disability stemming from his work; widowhood; old age; enforced unemployment; or whenever through no fault of his own he is deprived of the means of livelihood.

In 1993 The United States Catholic Conference of Bishops affirmed this basic right and offered a detailed position titled “Comprehensive Health Care Reform” in which they offer the following definitive position:

“Every person has a right to adequate health care. This right flows from the sanctity of human life and the dignity that belongs to all human persons, who are made in the image of God.” Healthcare is more than a commodity; it is a basic human right, and essential safeguard of human life and dignity.

The Catholic Church then does affirm healthcare as a basic human right. While our own Passionist spirituality does not develop itself in terms of defining rights or duties it does promote an ethic of compassion based on a spirituality on the Passion of Christ that identifies with the ongoing suffering of the human community as witness of the New Creation that was revealed to us in the Resurrection. As a lay and vowed community we are called to be in solidarity with those who suffer. While all members of the human community do suffer and we minister to all without any reservation we do acknowledge a fundamental option towards those who suffer injustice at the hand of society. We acknowledge a particular solidarity with the poor who St. Paul of the Cross reminded us had “the name of Jesus written on their foreheads.” This solidarity calls us to offer a compassionate position on issues of social concern. This social ethic was stated very well by our own Pope Benedict XVI in his recent Encyclical Spe Salvi:

#38. The true measure of humanity is essentially determined in relationship to suffering and to the sufferer. This holds true both for the individual and for society. A society unable to accept its suffering members and incapable of helping to share their suffering and to bear it inwardly through “com-passion” is a cruel and inhuman society.

Universal healthcare is an issue because among other things we recognize that there are Americans who are left outside of the private healthcare system. We also recognize that some Americans who have poor insurance still suffer from a healthcare system that has poor or limited quality of access to their own healthcare needs. These are people who are struggling in our midst with a system that is not working at all for them. With the current economic crisis we know that many of our families, neighbors and maybe even ourselves may be facing this struggle as well. Our Passionist spirituality and our Catholic Church call us to promote some form of universal healthcare.

An American universal healthcare system:
Having made this position what should we advocate for in the midst of this healthcare debate? We do not offer a legislative position on this. We recognize that the call for a universal healthcare system in our nation must take into consideration the various economical and social elements that are currently part of the fabric of our own nation. We are a highly capitalistic society with powerful insurance and pharmaceutical industries. We also place a high secular value on the individual’s liberty and are generally nervous about top down government intervention. As challenging as these values and situation might be for promoting the Catholic position we can still be creative in seeing how we can promote a healthcare system that serves the common good while adapting to the situation and values of the American society.

The socialized medicine option of Great Britain may not be the model for America. However we can examine the healthcare system of others that resemble our own social values and economic forces. Switzerland is one such nation that may offer us such a model. It is the idea of a socially regulated insurance where all citizens are required to have coverage. On the one hand Government does set the price for medicine and the insurance company is not allowed to make a profit on basic services. But they are given the freedom to negotiate prices for services with providers and they are allowed to profitable supplemental insurance.

Henry Aaron is a senior fellow in the Economic Studies program at the Brookings Institute. He has adopted a very realistic goal for a healthcare model that he feels can be adopted by the various interests in America and can offer us an excellent first step in promoting a good American style universal healthcare system. In his proposal he advocates for a national healthcare insurance exchange. It would be a place where citizens are given the option of private and public insurance companies. Furthermore a good initial healthcare bill will improve on the information technology of the healthcare system and conduct a study on the comparative effectiveness of various health care models. While this may seem like a slow beginning it does offer a pragmatic base from which a well fitting universal healthcare system can grow in our nation.

To keep the dialogue going on the subject, wathc Paul Krugman’s response on the Universal Healthcare Debate:

www.youtube.com/watch?v=FMsLhx9coxo

There are two vectors that comprise Catholic social teaching, one are is Church and the other is Society. Catholic social teaching has them intersect as a cross: +. Some However would prefer that they not intersect, but, rather, that they run in parallel courses, visible to one another, but only for consultation purposes, something like this: = so that each can run its own path without interference from the other.

They cross precisely at the point where the church has something to say about what is going on in the world around it. In this scenario, the world takes the initiative, while the church responds. Not all the initiatives underway in the world call for response from the church—only those that affects her own concern about advancing the foundations for God’s kingdom in this world.

Church and secular society will cross each other periodically, sometimes happily, at other times, less so. Sometimes the world would prefer the church to stay within the sanctuary, confining her interests to vestments, candles and incense. At other times the church opposes intrusions of secular society into its hallowed precincts, with tactics discouraging church influence on certain issues.

What might these secular initiatives be that could rouse the church’s interest? In recent times, here in the US, they have consisted of life issues (abortion, capital punishment, warfare, euthanasia), family concerns, environmental developments, global economic affairs (minimum wage, international debt and trade, corporate responsibility), social concerns (healthcare, immigration, access to quality education), international security (development, human rights, nuclear weapons, terrorism and just war, the role and authority of the UN).

The church notes the intersection of these issues with values fundamental to its mission. So, it delves into the treasure trove of its long tradition and pulls out some valuable resources that serve its interests in promoting God’s kingdom in this life, while addressing initiatives that secular society is pursuing.

The spokespersons for the church are both the various national hierarchies of the bishops, and also the central authority center in the Vatican. The U.S. Bishops, disturbed by the nuclear militarization underway in U.S. society, presented its position on this program in their pastoral letter on peace, The Challenge of Peace: God’s Promise and our Response, (1983). A bit later, observing the enormous influence of U.S. economic activity both on life within this country, and also abroad, the bishops spelled out an economic vision that not only tried to meet secular projections, but also honored the dignity and value of the peoples whose lives unfolded in this climate (Economic Justice for All: Catholic Social Teaching and the U.S. Economy, 1986).

On other occasions, especially since the end of the 19^th century, the Popes have shown a marked concern about what is going on in the world around them, noting the propensity for some significant disadvantages accruing to the kingdom of God entrusted to their care. No longer burdened with the material assets, such as the Papal States, that suggested a kingdom too akin to this world’s structures, they enjoy certain disinterestedness in voicing their guidance in secular affairs, more so than in times past.

So Leo XIII, with an eye to the unfolding of Communism across Europe, wrote his RERUM NOVARUM (1891), laying out a Catholic position on property, labor, distribution of wealth, etc. A bit later, in the aftermath of WW I, Benedict XV laid out a blueprint for peace among nations (1920), followed up later by John XXIII’s PACEM IN TERRIS, (1963). With the rise of fascist states in the Europe of the ‘30s, Pius XI defended the individual person against the power of the totalitarian state with his principle of subsidiarity, and later specifically addressed the rise of Nazism (Mit brennender Sorge, 1937). As certain forms of free market capitalism began to cause concern, John XXIII’s MATER ET MAGISTRA (1961), Paul VI’s ON THE DEVELOPMENT OF PEOPLES (1967), together with John Paul II’s ON HUMAN WORK (1981) and ON SOCIAL CONCERNS (1987) appeared, one by one—contributed from the treasure house of the church’s rich tradition. And Vatican II produced an important statement on church-state relations in its document on RELIGIOUS LIBERTY (1965), that lent church support, somewhat slow in coming, to democratic institutions so dear to the U.S., and so conducive to the spiritual as well as the temporal welfare of people.

This tradition of church involvement with social concerns goes back to the bible and to the positions it voices about issues not too different from those of our day. From the adroitness of Jesus’ response to possible conflicts with civil authorities (Lk 20.25), to His decision to establish His own institution by choosing twelve men to act on its behalf (Mt 10), to the perplexity of Pilate trying to figure out what kind of king Jesus was (Jn 18.33-38), to the fairly early (toward the end of the first century) migration of the burgeoning church’s center from Jerusalem to Rome (the capital of the Roman empire), to the emergence of faith-based groups in the church (the monastic establishment in the sixth century) that began to address social issues otherwise left unattended (hospitality, education, health care), to the criticism Spanish theologians (the 16^th century Bishop Bartholome de Las Casas) began to level against conquistadors exploiting native populations in The New World (and the remarkable appearances, in 1531, of Our Lady of Guadalupe to Juan Diego, galvanizing a new sense of identity among a demoralized and conquered people)—we are beneficiaries of a long history that embodies in flesh and blood terms what corresponds to the texts of national and Vatican magisterial authorities express above.

What is noteworthy about this development of the church’s social doctrine is that it gradually began to address not only its Catholic base, nor even a Christian fellowship, but all men and women of good will (cf. the opening words of John XXIII’s PACEM IN TERRIS ), comparable to the Good News announced by the angels on Christmas day, over the fields of Bethlehem (Lk 2.14 & note in Catholic Study Bible ed). This occurred because it gradually became evident that a primary source of church teaching on social issues like war, poverty, family, abortion, etc., was not only scriptural, but also a vision of the common good. The common good is the crystallization of the best wisdom humankind has been able to formulate, over the ages, regarding those “goods” common to everyone: not just to the powerful and influential, but to the least and lowliest among us (the common good is …”the sum total of social conditions which allow people, either as groups or as individuals, to reach their fulfillment more fully and more easily.” THE CHURCH IN THE MODERN WORLD, n. 26). It has been the confluence of biblical and cultural developments that combine to form a body of doctrine on social justice, under church auspices, that likely outweighs, especially during the past century and a half, any comparable corpus of ecclesiastical teaching, whether that be on the sacraments, the church, the Trinity, the Incarnation, the Redemption, heaven, hell, death, etc.

Catholic social teaching would seem to be of special interest to those for whom the Passion of Christ is important. Christ’s sufferings on the Cross furnish front and center memories for His followers, who understand them not only in the terms of His own death on the cross, but also of all those down the ages who have experienced their share of suffering, and whom we can properly identify as The Crucified of the World Today.

These constitute the heart of the social doctrine of the church. Can we think of any social concern that the church has addressed, over the centuries that did not involve some element of suffering: persecution, torture, imprisonment, execution, hunger, ill health, broken families, abandoned children, homelessness, unemployment? These constitute secular situations that intersect the interests of the church. What emerges assumes the form of the Cross. Not only is this significant to us because of the reconciling power of the Cross of Christ, but for us Catholics we also recall the cross on which St. Peter died. St. Peter, the first pope, embodies the human face of the church as it began its course down the annals of history. He initiates the rich symbolism of the cross that marks Catholic social doctrine which has developed under the patronage of the church, on behalf of the Crucified of the World Today.