Thank you to many who were concerned last week about the broken pipe evidenced by water flowing out of the asphalt on the school playground. It is fixed and thanks to your ongoing generosity, we can pay for it. Unfortunately, we know with any older house, there will be more repairs needed. Please pray they are spaced apart and please continue to support our monthly maintenance and repair fund.
Last weekend, Deacon John gave a fine homily. My friend whom I have referred to a couple of times, Msgr. Arthur Holquin wrote on last week’s readings, and I think as we draw near to election day, his words offer more insight on giving to Cesar what is Cesar’s. He writes:
“St. Paul gives thanks last Sunday for the Thessalonians because, as he says, “our gospel did not come to you in word alone, but also in power and in the Holy Spirit and with much conviction.” Not in word alone.
There is a saying often attributed to St. Francis of Assisi, though it appears nowhere in his writings: Preach the Gospel always, and if necessary, use words. Apocryphal or not, is true. The Gospel is preached most persuasively through the integrity of our lives: in how we keep our promises, how we treat the waiter and the caregiver, how we forgive, how we spend our money and our time, whom we notice and whom we pass by.
And one need not travel to a foreign land to do that. The “mission lands” are no longer only over there. They are here. So, most of us are called to be missionaries right where we are: in our families, our neighborhoods, our workplaces, our communities, and our country.
Which brings us to last Sunday’s Gospel. The Pharisees and the Herodians, strange allies, set a trap for Jesus about the census tax. Jesus asks for the coin, and then asks, “Whose image is this and whose inscription?” Caesar’s, they reply. “Then repay to Caesar what belongs to Caesar and to God what belongs to God.”
This saying has too often been heard as if it divides life into two sealed compartments: religion over here, politics over there, and never the twain shall meet. As if our country could run on moral autopilot while faith stays safely inside the church doors.
But the Fathers of the Church heard it differently. The coin bears the image of Caesar, so give Caesar his coin. But what bears the image of God? We do. “God created mankind in his image.” Every human person is stamped with the divine likeness. And that means every person, and all that concerns the person, belongs to God, including how we organize our common life together.
We have a concrete opportunity to live this out in just over two weeks. On Tuesday, November 3rd, we will cast our votes. That is a civic duty, yes. But for a disciple it is also a moral act, and I would say a missionary one. We are sent to shape the ways of Caesar by the ways of Christ.
I will not tell you for whom to vote. That is not my place, and it is not the Church’s. But I will tell you what the Gospel asks you to bring into that voting booth: a well-formed conscience and a profound respect for the inherent dignity of every human person, from womb to tomb. The child in the womb and the prisoner on death row. The immigrant and the refugee. The poor and the dispossessed. The sick, the elderly, the dying. Cardinal Bernardin called this the seamless garment, and it cannot be torn apart to suit any party’s platform. Our mission is to help shape this nation into a more perfect union, one whose heart beats with that reverence for every person who bears God’s image.
This past week, not far from here in our own state, we saw what that missionary witness looks like. Bishop Joseph Brennan of Fresno wrote to his people about the anxiety and fear that immigration enforcement has brought to the Central Valley. Some of the very people who sit in the pews of his parishes have been detained, taken, as he put it, with little or no information. They are not strangers, he wrote. They are “family, neighbors and parishioners.”
And then he said something every one of us should hear: human dignity “is not granted by governments, economic status, citizenship, or legal documentation. It is given by God.” He quoted Pope Leo, who has reminded us that “human dignity has no passport.”
Bishop Brennan did not stop with words. He described what accompaniment looks like: walking with families through long legal proceedings, showing up at immigration court, arranging rides and childcare, refusing to let anyone face this alone. And he called it what it is: part of our baptismal call. That is Ite, missa est in the flesh. And he did not forget to add the call to pray for one another and to act in a spirit of communion, bridging divisions and treating one another with compassion, even when we disagree.
So here is our mission, yours, and mine. Not, perhaps, the jungles of Peru. But the dinner table where a hard conversation needs a gentle word. The neighbor who is frightened. The coworker who is grieving. The parish that needs our hands. The ballot that needs our conscience.
We are sent. And our mission is nothing less than to be instruments of transformation, so that, as St. Paul says, “Christ is all and in all.”
In a few moments, at the end of this Mass, you will hear the words of dismissal. Hear them today for what they truly are. Not “we’re finished,” but Go. You are sent.”