Homily for Ordinary Time 23 - September 10, 2017

Homily for Ordinary Time 23

September 10, 2017

What Does Your Love Look Like?

 

            Thomas Vander Woude was an ordinary Catholic man – a husband, a father of seven children, a diligent employee, a volunteer at his church in Virginia, a basketball coach…and a hero.

            In September of 2008, he was working in his yard with his youngest son, when he heard a shout. Turning around, he saw that his twenty-year-old son, who has Down’s syndrome, had fallen through a 2’x2’ hole into their septic tank, where he was quickly drowning in sewage. Without a second thought, Thomas jumped in and began to try to rescue his son.

            Neighbors heard the commotion and ran over to help. Initially Thomas was able to keep both of them afloat, but it took a while to pull the large disabled man to safety. By the time the young man had been rescued, Thomas had succumbed to the sewage and drowned.

            Over two thousand people, seventy priests and a bishop attended his funeral, because they wanted to see what love looks like when it’s lived out in a radical way. Because this “love one another” that Paul talks about in today’s second reading is anything but a lofty ideal or a warm fuzzy feeling – no, this love has a cost – the cost of sacrifice.

            This past spring I had to chaperone the eighth grade dance at Trinity Middle School (talk about awkward!). But as I was listening to the songs, I noticed that most of the songs sang about love – but every single time, love was a feeling. “Can you feel the love tonight” and songs like that. But love-as-emotion has disfigured our understanding of what love truly is.

            Pope St. John Paul II defined love as “giving oneself” – it’s not about what one gets from but what one gives to the other. St. Thomas Aquinas says that love is “willing the good of the other”. It is, essentially, an others-centered choice. Does my action benefit another person? Do my words build them up? Do my choices help them to flourish? This is how we understand what love is – it must be proven in deeds.

            When priests hear confessions of little kids, most of the times the sins end up being remarkably similar – “I hit my brother, I disobeyed my mom, I told a lie.” I always ask kids, “Do you love your mom? Do you love your siblings?” And of course they say yes. I then tell them, “If you love them, have you proven that love with your actions? It’s not enough to say you love your mom, you have to obey her. It’s not enough to say you love your siblings, you have to share your toys with them, say kind things, and treat them fairly.” Usually they look quite intrigued with the idea that love has to be backed up with deeds of sacrifice!

            Love even sometimes means correcting someone who has strayed from the right path. Our world often says that if you love someone you can never challenge them or correct them, but that you have to approve of every choice they make. But Christ offers a different view – He says in the Gospel that sometimes the loving choice is to actually correct a friend or family member who has strayed from the right path.

            This makes sense, after all. If love is “choosing the good of another,” then we should always want our loved ones (and even our enemies!) to pursue the highest good. We know that people are happiest when they are in a right relationship with Christ, in the state of grace and avoiding sin, so if we love someone we ought to desire their growth in holiness! This, at times, requires us to speak up – with love, patience, and kindness.

            Consider, you who are parents, the times you speak up to your children. Parents don’t watch their little toddlers heading to a hot stove and say, “Well, it’s a free country, he can choose what he wants.” Of course not! We correct them, not to curtail their freedom, but to help them choose the right path, because we love them. In the same way, Jesus makes it clear that love sometimes involves bringing people back to the right path, as long as our corrections are given out of love.

            So what does love look like for you? For Thomas Vander Woude, who I spoke about in the beginning, love looked like jumping into a septic tank to save his son. For you, love will look different – it might look like doing the dishes without being asked, holding back an uncharitable remark, using your money and possessions for generosity instead of self-indulgence, sitting with the lonely kid at the lunch table, smiling at the person who cut you off in traffic, praying for your difficult mother-in-law, speaking up to the family member who is making self-destructive choices. Love is real when it takes sacrifice, when it costs something, when it is proven in actions. What will your love look like today?