(Twenty-seventh Sunday of the Year (C): This homily was
given on October 6, 2019 at St. Pius X Church, Westerly, R.I., by Fr. Raymond
Suriani. Read Habakkuk 1:2-3, 2:2-4;
Psalm 95:1-9; 2 Timothy 1:1-14; Luke 17:5-10.)
[For the audio version of this homily, click here: Twenty-seventh Sunday 2019]
It happened many years ago, but I remember the encounter as
if it occurred yesterday. I happened to
be in Warwick one afternoon, and I ran into a married couple that I knew from
the northern part of the state. During
the course of our conversation the wife said to me, “Fr. Ray, please keep us in
your prayers. My husband and I have been
trying to have children for nine years.
Tomorrow I'm undergoing “in vitro-fertilization” for the FOURTH time. Please pray that it works so that we can
finally have a child.”
Well, immediately, I was put on the spot. That's because the Catholic Church, in the
name of Jesus Christ (not in its own name, but in the name of Jesus Christ)
teaches that in vitro fertilization is immoral.
The desire to overcome infertility is, of course, a good desire. But, as St. Paul teaches in his letter to the
Romans, we may never use an evil means to attain a good end. IVF is an evil means. Why? Not because technology is involved. The Church is not against technology as
such. In fact Jesus, through his Church,
teaches that some medical methods of treating infertility are quite
acceptable. But any method which
REPLACES the marital act is immoral.
And, unfortunately, IVF does that: children are conceived—not through
the loving union of two parents—but rather in a petri dish. And there are other immoral dimensions to
this procedure. For example, the method that's normally used to obtain sperm is
immoral, as is the common practice of destroying some of the eggs that are
fertilized. Lest we forget, to destroy a
fertilized human egg is to destroy a human being made in the image and likeness
of God.
Well, as gently as I could, I tried to explain all of this
to the woman and her husband. And, not
surprisingly, they were devastated. The
wife finally said, “Fr. Ray, do you hate us now for having done this 3
times? Will you think less of us when
you see us in the future?” I said, “Of
course not. You're wonderful
people. And besides, in the past you
didn't realize this was wrong—as many other Catholics don't realize that it's
wrong.”
Then she added this comment, which I will never, ever forget:
“But Father Ray, our PRIEST told us it was okay. We went to see him before we did any of this,
and he said that as long as they intended to put all the fertilized eggs back,
it would be fine.”
At that, my blood pressure went through the roof! I was livid!
Not at the couple, but at the priest, who should have known better! You see, instead of telling these two people
the truth, instead of being courageous and giving them the right message, he
told them what he thought they wanted to hear—probably because he didn't want
to offend them. And what was the end result
of his “compassionate act?” Well first
of all, he put me in a terribly awkward position; and secondly, he made it much
worse for this good, sincere couple. In
trying to be a “nice guy,” he ultimately caused them to experience more pain
when they finally learned the truth—the truth that he should have told them in
the first place!
Why do I mention this incident today? Number one, because this is an issue which
many Catholics are unclear about (in fact, someone in the parish asked me about
this exact topic just a few days ago); and number two because our second
reading for this Mass is addressed to Timothy, who was one of the very first
leaders in the Church. St. Paul wrote
two letters to Timothy, in which he tells the young priest how to be a true
shepherd in the family of God. But
nowhere in either of the letters does Paul say: “Tim, be a nice guy. Don’t ever offend anybody. Tell people exactly what they want to
hear. Give them an easy message.” Rather, Paul encouraged him to speak the TRUTH
in love, even if it hurt—even if it was offensive to some. For example, in the text we just heard he
says (and here I’m using the old New American Bible translation), “[Timothy], take as a model of sound
teaching what you have heard me say, in faith and love in Christ Jesus.” Now Timothy must have heard Paul say many
difficult things, because Paul did that on a regular basis. That's clear from
his many New Testament letters. He was
not a wimp. He was not afraid to
confront the pressing social and cultural issues of his day. And make no
mistake about it: Paul suffered for being so honest and truthful. That's why he also tells Timothy, “Never be ashamed of your testimony to our
Lord, nor of me, a prisoner for his sake; but with the strength which comes
from God bear your share of the hardships which the gospel entails.” In other words, “Tim, if you intend to be
a good priest, get ready to be opposed by some people when you speak the full
truth of the gospel. It's happened to
me; it will certainly happen to you. Don't
think you'll somehow be exempt from the experience. But don't be afraid either. God will give you the strength you need to
deal with it.”
Then, a few verses later, Paul gives him this most
important instruction: “Guard the rich
deposit of faith with the help of the Holy Spirit who dwells within us.” The key word there is the word “guard.” Notice that Paul DOESN'T say “change the
deposit of faith if you feel like it;” he doesn't say “water down the deposit
of faith if it challenges you too much.”
He tells Timothy to "guard
it." That's because neither
Paul, nor Timothy, nor Peter, nor anyone else had the power to change it. The same is true today. Now this is something that many modern
Catholics (and others) don't seem to understand. They want the Church to change her teaching
on the priesthood, and on certain aspects of sexual morality. The Church does not have the power or the
authority to do such a thing! It never
did, and it never will! All the Church
can do is what Paul says here. All it
can do is GUARD and PROMOTE the deposit of faith (which is the full gospel of
Jesus Christ).
I am confident that Timothy followed Paul's
instruction. Which means that if he had
been a priest today, and a married couple had come to him seeking guidance on
how to deal with their infertility, Timothy would not have given them the wrong
advice in order to be a nice guy. He would have gently, patiently (and
courageously) explained to them the clear teaching of the Church on the
matter. And he would have helped them to
explore morally acceptable options to deal with their difficult situation—like
NaPro technology, which treats infertility with natural methods that are based
on good science.
I ask you today to pray that we will have more leaders of
this type in God's family. And it's
certainly in your interest as lay people to do this: because good priests like
Timothy not only save their own souls, they also take many lay people with them
to heaven. Bad priests, on the other
hand, do exactly the opposite.
And we’ve had far too many of them in the Church in recent
decades, as we are all painfully aware.
St. Paul and St. Timothy, pray for us—and pray especially
today for our leaders: for all bishops, priests and deacons in the Church. Pray
that they will speak the truth in love to their people ALWAYS—as you both did. Amen.