We reflect on Jerusalem, our destiny, returning along the way. That
obviously comes from the gospel of the Prodigal Son, one of the best-
known and best-loved gospel stories that tells us about the Prodigal
Father. It tells us about God and it tells us about ourselves. It
tells us that our God is a God of second chances, again and again and
again. And it tells us that we ourselves can always return to the
way, to Jerusalem, the way to our God, the way to the values of God’s
kingdom., no matter what our circumstances, no matter what bad
choices we’ve made, no matter what our addiction, no matter what sins
we may have committed along the way. We can return. But, this
weekend, I’m not going to talk about that.

This weekend is the forty-fourth anniversary of my ordination and
first Mass. And I want to talk about the first reading from St. Paul.
St. Paul tells us that our God is a God of change who makes all
things new, tells us our God is a God of reconciliation. Our God is
always reconciling himself to the world. And thirdly, we are called
to be ambassadors of reconciliation. Forty-four years ago this March,
1963, I was all set! I had twelve years of seminary education behind
me. I had tons of courses and texts. I was bilingual. Most of the
important courses were taught in Latin. So I knew Latin and I knew
English. I had centuries of theology digested, and I had memorized
how exactly to say the Mass. I had it precise. I had it exact, down
to where you held your fingers during the Mass. I was ready for
everything, with the possible exception of change. Well, since 1963,
there have been quite a few changes. There have been a lot of changes.

I don’t know what you would call our biggest change. I would say one
of our biggest changes is “Who do you fight with?” And “Who are you
reconciled with?” When I was ordained in 1963, it was very clear who
you fought with. You fought with the Protestants. You know, we grew
up across the street from Brooklyn Presbyterian Church in Oakland,
and our neighbors and friends went there. In thirty-five years, I
never set foot in that church. In fact, the Boy Scout troops were
there and I never became a Boy Scout because it would mean I would
have to walk into that Presbyterian Church. And one block away was
St. James Episcopal Church. They are closer to Catholics. Right?
Catholic light.... And I never set foot in that church. Some of you
may even remember, at the end of the Second World War, after the
terrible bombing of Britain, that England called for a day of prayer
and a huge worship service of all the faiths in England. And the
Catholics refused to walk in. They refused to give thanks in that
ceremony. That’s who we were fighting with. And who we were
reconciled with? Well, we were reconciled with one another. As
Catholics, we had a united front. We had a sense of uniformity, a
sense of things did not change. We were proud that we were one and,
when our church leaders spoke, we were giving them mutual support or,
if we disagreed, at least we kept our mouths shut. Well, 1963, I get
ordained as a priest and, within a few years, I am organizing living
room dialogues of people of different faiths to discuss the Scripture
together. I am celebrating joint interfaith marriages, with
Protestant ministers, interfaith worship services along with three
pastors, a Baptist, a Methodist and a Presbyterian. We rented a
store front in North Oakland and we founded the North Oakland
Christian Parish. I joined the Berkeley Council of Churches, which,
up to then, was entirely Protestant. And today it’s standard. We are
part of the Interfaith Council of Contra Costa which helps us sponsor
the homeless who we are welcoming for the next two weeks. We have our
monthly Taize Prayer at the different churches in Pleasant Hill. We
meet with the Protestant ministers on a regular basis. Every Tuesday,
I drive into Oakland to discuss scripture of the upcoming Gospel with
a group of Church leaders who are Catholic, Lutheran and
Presbyterian. We may still have some serious differences, but we have
one Lord, one Faith, one Baptism, and we don’t fight.

So, who are you going to fight with? Who are you going to fight
with?..... The answer is “Now we fight with each other.” We fight
with other Catholics. We are more polarized, more critical and more
angry with one another than we ever were before 1963. Now, in the
sixties and seventies, the focus of our fights seemed to be around
liturgy. We disagreed about where to put the altar. Was it facing the
people or not? Whether to have Communion in the hand or not? Whether
to allow women in the sanctuary or not? Whether to have a greeting of
peace or not? So we were angry over that with each other. Then in the
seventies and eighties, it was about music. We fought about music. I
don’t know if you remember. But, if you go back, the only sound of
music in the Church was either hymns to Mary (How many remember
“Mother Dear, O pray for me?” “Mother dearest, mother fairest. Bring
flowers of the fairest.”) They were all Marian hymns, or they were in
Latin. How many remember “Tantum Ergo Sacramentum?” Or, here was
the most common sound of music in the Catholic Church: absolute
silence, absolute silence. But then, in the seventies and eighties,
we began to fight over what music. Was it “Kumbaya” or “Amazing
Grace?” And we went back and forth over that.

Now, in the nineties and this century, what do we fight about? We
fight about social justice. I remember shortly after I was ordained,
and that’s why I remember it, the New Yorker had a cartoon that
showed a very pompous, portly and important-looking monsignor sitting
beside a large desk with french cuffs on, giving advice to a newly-
ordained young priest. And he said, “Father, you will go a long way
in the priesthood as long as you never discuss politics ..... or
religion.” Shortly after, the highest authority in the Catholic
Church in his document on the Church in the Modern World said, “As a
Church we are called to discuss politics and religion, to flavor the
values of our world and be involved in the modern world.” Shortly
after that, an international gathering of the bishops of the world
said, “Working for social justice is an essential, integral part of
preaching the gospel.” If you ain’t doing it, you ain’t preaching the
gospel! In other words, we were suddenly reminded that we are to do
both, both politics and religion. We are to be involved in both, that
the gospel says, “A prayer life that is not also a life for justice
is not really a prayer life at all.” So, what do we do? We fight with
each other. We fight over social justice, whether we should address
it or not. We fight over unions, over immigration, over abortion,
over the death penalty, over the war in Iraq, over world debt, and
over global warming.

And we are called to be ambassadors of reconciliation. Well, I am
going to make five suggestions of how we can be ambassadors of
reconciliation, even though we at times disagree. First of all,
listen to St. Paul. He was addressing the Church in Corinth where
they were doing the traditional Catholic, Christian thing. They were
fighting with each other. He says, “Our God is a God of change.” Be
open, for God’s sake, to change, at least a little crack. Be open to
change. Let yourself be surprised. That’s number one, “Be open to
change.”

Number two is to have mutual respect for one another.

Number three is to listen, to find out what the other person is
saying, feeling and talking about. To listen!

Number four is to care about each other, even though we disagree, to
really care about each other.

And number five is to be rooted, first of all, to be rooted in our
Catholic, Christian Community. That means that we believe community
is not just a happening that we happen to be in the same theatre
together or in the same building, looking at the same things
together. We believe community is at the heart of Church, that the
community we belong to points to and makes present God Almighty. So,
be rooted in community. Be rooted in the Gospel, the Gospel which
reminds us that we are not to be silent on religion. We are not to be
silent on politics. No silence allowed.

And number three, be rooted in Jesus Christ who calls on us to be,
not only ambassadors of reconciliation, but that we might all be one,
that somehow we keep working at adjusting and trying to share his
vision, his dreams, his standards, his values.

May we all work at being ambassadors of reconciliation, and may I
keep working at it, at least for the next forty-four years. (Much
applause follows!)