From the Deacon's Desk

Twenty-fourth Sunday in Ordinary Time

Readings: Sirach 27:30-28:7 / Romans 14:7-9 / Matthew 18:21-35

I will be delivering the following homily at all Masses this morning at St. Pius X Catholic Church in Indianapolis:

Today’s reading prompted me to reflect on my evolution as a forgiving, merciful human being. I’ve discovered I have come full circle. I would like to give you a rare glimpse into this lifelong evolution.

I’ll begin at the age of five. The incident took place in kindergarten. It was time for scheduled play and we were instructed to walk over to the toys and select the one we would like to play with.

In the toy collection was a new wooden dump truck I’d had my eye on as I’m sure most of the boys did. I speed-walked over and had the truck in my hands when one of my little friends nearly knocked me over and grabbed it away.

Then the two of us went at it, as only two five-year-olds could. There was pushing. There were punches thrown. We rolled around on the floor, attempting to gain possession of the truck.

The teacher separated us and of course, there were consequences. We were required to sit on our napping mats where we stayed until the buzzer on the punishment timer sounded.

We were friends again and ran off to play with the truck together. All was forgiven. Our anger was short-lived and non-impactful. We had apparently been angry enough to fight, but not to hold on to the anger. The anger never had a chance to fester or take up space in our hearts.

Most of my childhood disagreements went like that: Someone would hurt me or say something mean or take something of mine, or lie to me or I would do the same to them. An argument or fight would ensue and the silent treatment given – for an hour or two if it was a friend, for a day or two if it was a sibling.

But the hurt, anger, or resentment would be short-lived, gone quickly and the relationship restored. There was no long-term impact; our hearts stayed intact.

Fast forward to the summer after I graduated from high school. I was coming down the stairs of my house and heard a family member say something about me that hurt me deeply. That family member didn’t know I overheard it and I never mentioned it.

The hurt lingered and the resentment took up residence in my heart. It impacted my relationship with that family member for decades.

Fast forward once again to my early thirties. I was a high school football coach and an administrator in the school called me out and questioned my leadership in front of my team.

I was both hurt and angry.

I later went to his office and talked to him about his conduct and why I felt it was inappropriate. His response was a half-hearted apology and it did little to diminish my feelings.

The anger over the situation burrowed into my heart.

While I never forgave the family member or the administrator face to face, years later I made the intentional decision to release the anger and resentment. I forgave them from my heart.

Today’s scripture readings are full of warnings about harboring ill will and refusing to offer forgiveness. They point to the love of Jesus and the example of a merciful God.

In the first reading from the Book of Sirach we heard, “Forgive your neighbor’s injustice…set enmity aside…overlook faults…”

The Responsorial Psalm we heard sung several times was, “The Lord is kind and merciful, slow to anger, and rich in compassion.”

And in today’s gospel, when Jesus answered Peter’s question about forgiveness, he encouraged Peter to, “…forgive your brother from your heart.”

And that is really the key to understanding how we are called to navigate our hurt, our anger, and our resentment. When we hold onto these feelings, it impacts our hearts. Our hearts should be filled with love. When we allow hate, anger, and resentment to reside in our hearts, our capacity to love fully – as Jesus loved – is diminished. We find ourselves in a weakened state that keeps us from living the life of a true disciple.

We don’t offer forgiveness to others to benefit the offender, although that may happen too. We offer forgiveness to unburden ourselves, to free up more space in our hearts to love.

Pope Leo once said, “Forgiveness frees those who give it: it dispels resentment, it restores peace, and it returns us to ourselves.”

It was during my years of formation as a future deacon that my understanding of this concept matured. And ironically, it returned me to an almost childlike state.

In other words, I feel the anger or hurt or resentment, respond to it appropriately – perhaps prayer, reflection, or dialogue – and then, most importantly, let it go.

I, the 5-year-old kindergartener, was angry, yet soon after the incident, me and my friend were playing together once again. I let go of the anger quickly. It did not stay around long enough to take root in my heart. 

How many times did Jesus encourage his disciples to be more childlike?

Over the course of my life I have come full circle and have become more childlike. 

I hate to use the cliche life’s too short, but…life’s too short.

We are human beings. We will get angry. People will hurt us in any number of ways. We can fume and internalize and harbor resentment for months, years, or even decades. We can refuse to offer forgiveness. To what end? 

The only thing we accomplish is polluting our hearts with negative feelings and emotions that occupy space intended to house love.

When we are hurt by another person, it is only human to feel that hurt. We should take it to prayer, offer forgiveness, and let it go. We can’t let the hurt fill our hearts.

Jesus gave us the easiest and shortest to-do list ever: Love God and love others. In order to do that effectively, our heart needs to be working at full capacity, free of resentment and anger, like the heart of a child.

I’ll end with another quote from Pope Leo, “True forgiveness is a proactive choice rooted in a greater love.”