Second Chances

Lavishing God’s mercy upon everyone

1 Peter 1:3-9

Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who in his great mercy gave us a new birth to a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, to an inheritance that is imperishable, undefiled, and unfading, kept in heaven for you who by the power of God are safeguarded through faith, to a salvation that is ready to be revealed in the final time. In this you rejoice, although now for a little while you may have to suffer through various trials, so that the genuineness of your faith, more precious than gold that is perishable even though tested by fire, may prove to be for praise, glory, and honor at the revelation of Jesus Christ.

            This Divine Mercy Sunday will showcase three popes, who, each in his own way, proclaimed the message of mercy.  Two of these popes will be canonized saints, inducted into the Catholic Church’s “Hall of Fame,” Pope John XXIII and Pope John Paul II.  The third is our current, beloved Pope Francis, who will do the honors of canonizing the other two.  How did each of these pontiffs preach mercy?  Well, John XXIII taught mercy through humility; he knew he needed mercy as much as the next guy.  Consider these humorous examples.  Not long after being elected pope, John XXIII was walking along the streets of Rome.  A woman passed by him and whispered to her friend, “My goodness!  He’s so fat!”  Overhearing what she said, the pope turned around and replied, “Madame, I trust you understand that the papal conclave is not exactly a beauty pageant.”  We wouldn’t have any popes if it were!  John XXIII used to keep a daily diary.  One day, thinking about his father, he wrote, “There are three ways to ruin your life: women, gambling and farming.  My father chose the most boring one.”  Here’s my favorite anecdote: every night after a long day as the pope, weighed down with the world’s worries, John XXIII would say as his final night prayer: “Lord, this is your Church, you take care of it.  I’m going to bed!”  Pope John XXIII found it easy to show mercy to others because he needed plenty of mercy himself, and that’s how he taught mercy.

            Pope John Paul, II, my personal papal hero – I’ve still got his rookie card – established this feast of the Divine Mercy on the Sunday after Easter.  He canonized Sr. Faustina Kowalska and her teachings in a book called The Diary of Divine Mercy.  It didn’t hurt that she was a Polish nun, either!  (You’ll remember that John Paul was Polish.)  JP II made the message of mercy an annual celebration throughout the whole Catholic world, so we wouldn’t forget about mercy.  Finally, we have Pope Francis, whose papal motto is “miserando atque eligendo.”  That’s Latin and roughly translated means: “having mercy he chose him.”  God chooses each of us because he first has mercy on us; God doesn’t wait for us to be perfect, he loves us even while we’re sinners.  Mercy is the key to unlock the papacy of Francis and explains why he reaches out to welcome everyone: hugging the man with the severely deformed face, washing the feet of prisoners on Holy Thursday, welcoming homosexuals, the divorced and remarried, and insisting we go “out to the peripheries” to welcome everyone without exception.  Each of these three popes, each in his own way, was on a mission of mercy.

            In the second reading today, we hear the very first pope proclaiming the message of mercy, too.  St. Peter writes: “Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who IN HIS GREAT MERCY gave us a new birth to a living hope.”  In other words, mercy is what makes God tick and why he sent his Son to save us.  God first has mercy on us, and therefore he chooses us: “miserando atque eligendo.”  St. Peter, of course, knew all about mercy from the inside out, how often he needed Jesus’ mercy.  He had denied Jesus three times, he protested when Jesus wanted to wash his feet, he walked on water but sank and was scolded for having little faith.  Pope Peter had received plenty of mercy, and so he proclaimed it.  You see, God’s mercy is not a new concept cooked up by John XXIII or John Paul II or Francis; it’s been beating in God’s heart for all eternity.

            Do you know what mercy means to me?  It simply means a second chance.  And not just a second chance, but a third and a fourth and a thousand more chances if I need it.  Believe me, I need every chance I can get!  Now, the one sacrament that is the epitome of mercy is confession, and I try to go every three months.  Some people criticize Catholic confession by saying, “You Catholics can easily go to confession, get forgiveness and run out and sin again!”  Anyone who says that has never been to confession: it is anything but easy, ask any Catholic!  I remember once, after I had made a particularly painful and embarrassing confession, the priest said to me, “That was a very good confession.”  That’s all he said, “That was a very good confession.”  I can’t tell you how healing those words were; I could feel the cool waves of mercy washing over my hot sins.

            Folks, ask yourself today: does mercy characterize your Christianity?  Do you give people a second chance, a third, and a hundred?  We easily give our children plenty of chances, don’t we; but how about with your spouse, and with your neighbor, and with your priest?  How many chances do they get?  Try to learn from the three popes grabbing headlines today.  Adopt the attitude of Pope John XXIII and be able to laugh at yourself, and readily see and acknowledge your faults and foibles, your sins and silliness.  Like Pope John Paul II, read the Diary of Divine Mercy and implement the teachings of St. Faustina.  Watch the example of Pope Francis and reach out with mercy to those at the margins of your life, break out of your inner circle to those you usually ignore, to those you shun, to those you think cramp your style.  Oh, and while you’re lavishing mercy on everyone else, don’t forget to sprinkle a little mercy on God, too.  Yeah, God.  Ironically, sometimes not only must God forgive us, but we may need to forgive God for some hurt that we think he has caused us.  I am convinced that at the root of modern atheism is some perceived hurt people believe God has dealt them, and instead of forgiving him, they choose the easier path of not believing in him.  Rather, have mercy and choose to believe in God: miserando atque eligendo.  Have mercy on others and choose to love them, give them as many chances as they need.

            By the way, our church softball team received a little taste of mercy, too, Saturday: we won our first game!  It was because the other team forfeit.  I think their name was “Christ the King.”

            Praised be Jesus Christ!