An Elder Preacher's Passionate Message Leads Me to Ask, "What If...?"

Once a week, I spend some time preparing for my weekend preaching in the library of The Athenaeum of Ohio, a short drive from my home. This week, a new book caught my eye, written by a Jesuit priest named Walter J. Burghardt.

If you've never heard of Burghardt, you should know that he's ninety-two and a fantastic preacher. His sermons, even when you don't completely agree with him, are generally short, to-the-point, and filled with practical Christian spirituality. But their simplicity of structure and expression clearly result from a depth of living, of spirituality, and of scholarship.

The particular Burghardt book that caught my attention and I've been reading, Let Jesus Easter in Us, is a set of sermons built on the Biblical call to justice. I like Burghardt's summary of the Bible's notions of justice:

Fidelity to relationships, to responsibilities that stem from a covenant. What relationships, what responsibilities? Three: to God, to our sisters and brothers, to our earth. Love God above all idols; love every man, woman, and child, enemy as well as friend, like another self. Touch all of God's material creation with reverence, as a gift of God.

At several points, he contrasts Biblical justice with justice as defined by philosophy or the law:

...the philosopher can tell you what his mistress, naked reason, demands: Give to each what is due to each, what each can claim as a human right. The jurist can tell you what his blindfolded Lady Justice demands: impartiality, no favoritism, simply the law on the books. Neither--neither philosopher nor jurist--can command that we love. Only God can demand love. Only the Jesus of Bethlehem's cave and Calvary's cross can demand that we love as he loved. Such is the justice that rises above the ethical and the legal, the justice that is divine, the justice of God.

There are times when Burghardt delves into politics. But most of the time, his calls to justice commend Christians to live in fidelity to the primary relationships of our lives, those with God, neighbor, and the world God has given us.

The homilies are almost always directly taken from Scripture, although Burghardt sometimes roots them in words from the assigned liturgy for the season of the Church Year during which they were presented. Burghardt has the master preacher's ability to connect the Word of God with the world in which we live and he does it with admirable economy. He amazes me because, in spite of his age, he is obviously in tune with what's going on in the world, able to relate to people's everyday lives.

I've read quite a few of the homilies contained in this book so far and have loved each one. Maybe the most remarkable thing about them is the Christian passion that permeates each one. Nowhere is this more apparent in one given at Holy Family Retreat Center in Beaumont, Texas on January 20, 2003. After a recitation of grim facts about the lives of American children--one in five US children are impoverished, for example, Burghardt talks about the relevance of his sad data for Christians:

...To what purpose such statistics? I list them with such cold, unadorned brevity because behind the word 'percentage' lie flesh and blood--millions of creatures as human as you and I, shaped by God with minds to know and hearts to love, with fingers to feel and emotions to burst forth in joy unbounded. Children of one divine Father, sisters and brothers of the one Christ who lived and breathed and died for them.

Jesus' call to love, Burghardt asserts--and I think rightly--is a call for all who follow Christ to live justly toward God, neighbor, and earth.

And while Burghardt shies away from both abstractions and prescriptions--he does give a reading assignment to one set of congregants, challenging them to read one of the Gospels and to note all of the places where Biblical justice comes into play and then determining for themselves how they might live that out--he occasionally shares a vision. In the sermon on the injustices to which American children are subjected, he concludes with one such vision:

An incurable optimist, I dream a massive movement among families. I mean a movement where every Catholic family with more than a mere sufficiency of God's gracious gifts would "adopt" one of the imperiled children in your area. Not legal adoption. Rather, a family friendship, within which the special needs of one child would be addressed: food that builds energy, funds for a basic education, books to read, braces to for uneven teeth, a pair of skates, a summer-camp vacation, perhaps even a job for the youngster's father. The needs are legion. With persistence, imagination, time, and some sacrifice, your people can transform a parish, parishes transform a diocese. And if the dream were to carry over to diocese after diocese, the country we love might well become known, be envied, not for its wealth but for its justice--the justice of God, the justice that is penetrated by love.

When I first read those words, I thought they were preposterous. Preacher talk. Burghardt, who first presented them in Epiphany Season, with Christmas, the feast celebrating the birth of the Savior Jesus, still fresh in his hearer's memories, was prepared for such a reaction:

Far out, off the wall, a mission impossible? Perhaps. But remember, the most improbable transformation in history began with a single child, a helpless child, in a tiny corner of our world, with no one to care save a virgin mother and a foster father. If we Christians could only see, in each little one in need, an image of Bethlehem's child, we could remake our troubled world...don't be afraid to take the first step, to reach out to another little Christ. Let none of us be afraid--for one remarkable reason: It is Christ Who reaches out through you, the same Christ who told you, "Blessed, fortunate, happy are you who hunger and thirst for justice."

Burghardt has me thinking, "What would happen if every Christian of sufficient means 'adopted' a child as he suggests? What if I were a Christian willing to take him up on his suggestion?"

More broadly, "What if I laid aside my unwillingness to tackle the little impossibilities and simply trusted God to make something of my availability to Him? What would happen then?"
These are frightening questions--I don't know if I have enough faith to live as Burghardt suggests I live.

But these are also exhilarating questions, among the many that Burghardt's amazing preaching causes me to ask myself.

Faith in a risen Jesus should always cause Christians to ask, "What if...?" and then, in dependence on Him, to look for the answers.

If nothing else, I'm praying that Burghardt's preaching and living will incite me to make one line from that Christian hymn, "Rise Up, O Saints of God," a more prominent prayer in my life. The line? "Give justice larger place."