This homily was delivered by Brian Paulson, S.J., president of the Jesuit Conference of Canada and the United States, on Jan. 24 at the Mass for Life in Washington, D.C.
There is an amazing work of the Catholic Church on the North Side of Chicago called Misericordia/Heart of Mercy Home. The word misericordia has its roots in two Latin words, miserere (to have compassion or have mercy) and cor,which means heart. Over 600 people of all ages live at Misericordia Home in a sort of village or campus spread over 37 acres.
As its mission statement explains, Misericordia aims “to provide a continuum of care and support for children and adults of all faiths and cultures who have intellectual and developmental disabilities…. Through Catholic values and traditions we strive to be a diverse and inclusive community of acceptance, respect, dignity, spirituality, and quality of life for us all.”
Many but not all of the residents of Misericordia were born with Down syndrome. If you ever have had the privilege of getting to know more than one person with Down syndrome, you probably have seen that many of them are highly intelligent and high-functioning, and there are others who have greater intellectual and developmental disabilities. You also would know that most people with Down syndrome who receive the love and care they deserve—whether within their family or in a community like Misericordia—are among the most joyful and happy people you could ever meet. They often have an innocence about them which is beautiful to behold. When they are introduced to the faith, they have a natural openness to God and to Jesus, and they will sing joyfully at Mass and recognize the Holy Spirit in their midst—and they typically have a great sense of humor.
Behind many great missions and organizations there is a great leader. Misericordia is no different. A religious Sister of Mercy, Sister Rosemary Connolly, arrived at Misericordia in 1969 as a young sister and is still there today. Along with countless people in Chicago, I have the privilege of counting Sister Rosemary as a friend. I truly consider her a living saint, because she had the vision to create programs and activities, and to design and build the residences, to help the residents at Misericordia achieve their full potential as human beings, all in a loving, caring community.
Some of the residents work in a bakery that prepares baked goods which are sold to help support Misericordia. There is also a restaurant which is largely staffed by residents who take pride in their positions working there, many of them waiting tables for guests, which include families of those who are in residence there as well as volunteers, friends and benefactors of Misericordia. There is a wonderful choir of residents called the Heartbreakers. The residents produce some amazing art with the help of loving people who work with them in the art classrooms.
Jesus was constantly talking about the Kingdom of God. I consider Misericordia/Heart of Mercy Home a foretaste, here and now, of the Kingdom of God. Misericordia is a joyful place. It draws love, laughter, generosity, hard work and creativity out of everyone associated with it—the residents, the staff, the families, the benefactors and the volunteers. If you want to see a little slice of heaven on earth, please go visit Misericordia Home in Chicago.
What is the secret sauce that makes Misericordia work so well? I think it is faith, hope and love—what we call the three theological virtues. None of us has an infinite “gas tank” inside of us of self-sacrificing love. But Jesus does, and, as Christians baptized in the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit, we can tap into that infinite reservoir of divine love which is the Holy Trinity and the Sacred Heart of Jesus. We are invited and called by virtue of our baptism to join our hearts to the heart of our brother Jesus, risen among us, who dwells in our hearts, so that we can share his love and mercy with everyone we meet, like Sister Rosemary and everyone involved with Misericordia does each and every day.
Taking on the responsibility of life
When Jesus proclaimed the good news of God’s infinite love, mercy and forgiveness, and his special care for the poor and marginalized, Jesus also said that the Kingdom of God is present here and now. I believe Jesus means that wherever a community is known for how people love and care for one another and forgive one another, that is a sign that the Kingdom of God is in our midst. Another sign of the presence of the Kingdom of God is when the poor, the widows and orphans, the vulnerable, and the strangers and foreigners among us are well taken care of. As St. Paul writes in his letter to the Corinthians, as followers of Jesus we are the body of Christ in our world and we have a special obligation to take care of the most vulnerable parts of our body, of the community (1 Cor 12). That includes the unborn in their mothers’ wombs. It’s that simple—and it’s that hard.
For many decades it’s been possible during a pregnancy for parents to learn that a baby, in utero, has Down syndrome or other genetic differences which could lead to intellectual or developmental disabilities. Think about it: If any of the families who have a son or daughter or brother or sister at Misericordia had made other choices during their pregnancies, maybe one of these wonderful residents would not be there today. That would have been a horrible tragedy. In faith, we believe to end a pregnancy would be a sin. The Kingdom of God would be less visible in our world without these beautiful, joyful, yet, in some ways, vulnerable people who deserve and who call forth from us our love and care.
I love the story of our Gospel today of the Visitation of Mary and Elizabeth. We know the story: Elizabeth was some kind of cousin—a kinswoman—of Mary. Elizabeth and Zechariah were beyond the normal childbearing years and they despaired that they would ever be able to have a child. Nevertheless, miraculously, Elizabeth did conceive a child in her old age; she was blessed with a child who would become John the Baptist who would prepare the way for our Lord with his call to conversion and repentance.
At about the same time, the Virgin Mary also had a miraculous pregnancy which we just celebrated at Christmas. Mary and Joseph must have heard about her cousin’s pregnancy and so they set out on a long journey from Nazareth in the north of Israel to a small town outside of Jerusalem where Elizabeth lived. This probably would have taken at least three days walking. Today there are two beautiful churches in this town, one dedicated to the Visitation and the other to John the Baptist. I have had the privilege of visiting the Holy Land two times. The setting of the Visitation is beautiful, in lush, verdant and hilly country, just like the Scriptures describe it.
If you have ever seen the special bond that two women can have when they are both going through pregnancy—especially if the mothers-to-be are related—then perhaps you can imagine the joy that Mary and Joseph and Elizabeth and Zechariah must have had during the visit among these two couples, both experiencing miraculous pregnancies. (I know, the men are not explicitly mentioned in the story of the Visitation, but I cannot imagine St. Joseph letting Mary make this trip alone.) Sometimes you see this energy at a baby shower when several women who are friends are pregnant at the same time. In our Gospel, Mary’s response to the angel should model for us our response to the Lord when God asks us to take on a special responsibility in life, including the precious, sacred gift of a couple learning they are having a baby: “My soul proclaims the glory of the Lord, my spirit rejoices in God my savior.”
Creating a culture of life
Even though there is no longer a federal right to terminate a pregnancy, our country now has a patchwork of different legal regimes when it comes to protecting the unborn. At the other end of the age spectrum, sadly, it’s becoming a trend in some countries and even in some of these United States of America to say that people have a right to die, which amounts to a right to assisted suicide. With our respect for the right to life from conception to natural death, our Catholic faith cannot support assisted suicide. Who are we to say when it is our moment to end our life?
Every life is infinitely sacred, made in the image and likeness of God. Our Scriptures and our church teach us that part of the mystery of the gift of life is that at times suffering is a part of it. I’ve heard a saying to the effect that “growing old is not for sissies!” It’s true. It’s not easy to grow old. But it’s not for us to intentionally accelerate the end of our life or anyone else’s for our own comfort or convenience by artificial means or active medical intervention. We can and should alleviate suffering, but we should not support allowing people to legally terminate their own lives with the help of medical professionals.
There is another old saying that goes like this: “Charity begins at home.” Another word for charity is love. Love begins at home. From the moment a baby is growing in the womb of her mother, that baby deserves the love, care and support of the baby’s mother and father, extended family, friends and of the wider community. And our elderly deserve our love and care and support as families and communities until the end of their natural life.
As families, as schools, as communities, as a church and as a nation, we need to work together to create a culture of life so that a woman who finds herself vulnerable as she learns of her pregnancy can find the love, care, mercy and support—personal, spiritual and material—she will need to have the courage to bring that baby into the world. Let us commit ourselves to having a consistent ethic of life and culture of life, so that we also take good care of migrants and refugees, as well as our older and vulnerable family members at all stages of life, until the Lord calls them home.
I firmly believe that when we experience loving families and loving communities like Misericordia, where all life is considered sacred—no matter how vulnerable, at all stages of life—we experience places where the Kingdom of God is present in our midst. And then in our personal lives, as well as in our advocacy for life through our roles as citizens and as people of faith, we can promote a culture of life.
