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When it
comes to music,
I’m
no fan of so-called “rap.” I find it’s
dithyrambic pulse and energy fueled by anger unsettling.
Most
of its lyrics and themes are crude and morally repugnant. I think
rap says more about the rappers and the state of their souls than it
does about beauty and grace. And, I think that’s especially
true for a rapper named Lupe Fiasco, who I first learned about Bill
O’Reilly
interviewed Fiasco. (By the way, where do rappers come up with
those names? Fiasco? Ludicrous?)
It
just so happens, however, that Lupe Fiasco has a rap tune, the
refrain of which I happened upon while preparing my homily for
today. The title of that tune is, “Words I’ve never said.”
The refrain states:
It’s
so loud Inside my head
With words that I should have said!
As I drown in my regrets
I can’t take back the words I never said
I can’t take back the words I never said
In
the stanzas that follow, the words are entirely inappropriate, even
among impolite company. So, I don’t recommend even looking them
up. But, in light of today’s scripture readings, I must say that
Lupe Fiasco is “spot on” when he notes we can never take back the
words we don’t say.
Yet, the simple fact is that many of us fail to say what we know we
should say. Then, in retrospect, we hear so loud inside our heads
those words we never said. How many times have you looked back and
thought, “Geez, I should have told him?” or “Geez, I should have
told her?”
It’s
so easy to see and to name others sin, knowing what they are doing
is wrong. This ability is sort of “hot wired” into us. It could be
very small things, like coveting—desiring what others possess—that
grows into very big things, like coveting something or someone so
much that it results in lying, in theft, in adultery, and sometimes
even in murder. With young people especially, it could also be the
desire to be “cool” and to “fit in with the crowd” for the lame
reason that “everyone’s doing it” and they don’t seem to be any the
worse for it, things like using foul language or experimenting with
tobacco, alcohol, drugs, pornography, or engaging in sexual
relations. But, in the end, most people are worse off for doing
these things, addicts who possess little or no will power to
overcome their slavery to sin.
How sad.
Most oftentimes, these little things pop up in our relationships—in
our marriages and families and with our close friends, too—and,
although we notice them, we decide not to say anything. We
muzzle ourselves and keep our big mouths shut. And, despite
all of the excuses we may invent, the simple truth is that we don’t
say anything because we fear what we believe will happen if we say
what’s actually on our minds. Since we love ourselves more than we
love God and neighbor, we put a muzzle on our mouths and think
ourselves better for doing so.
Today’s readings from scripture teach us something different,
reminding us that love of God and neighbor alone is what fulfills
God’s law. We can memorize the Catechism of the Catholic Church,
we can be daily communicants, we can put wads of cash into to
collection basket. But, in the end, all of that adds up to nothing
if it isn’t motivated by and evident in our love of God and
neighbor. And, one of the hardest forms of love of neighbor is to
love them enough to admonish them to correct their sinful behavior.
In
the first reading, the prophet Ezekiel reminds us that the Lord has
appointed us to be watchmen for the people around us. Ezekiel
doesn’t mince any words, reminding us that our salvation is entirely
dependent upon warning others to turn from their wicked ways.
Many of us don’t feel comfortable in confronting others when it
comes to those wicked ways, preferring instead to remain silent.
Our culture teaches us to think of religion, faith, and morality as
“private” matters, best not discussed in public, or even worse yet,
used to challenge people who believe and act otherwise. But,
Ezekiel wrote, “If…you do not speak out to dissuade the wicked from
his way…[Thus says the Lord] I will hold you responsible for
his death” (italics added).
In
the second reading, St. Paul reminds us that we “Owe nothing to
anyone, except to love one another.” That is to say, we must do for
others what love requires and, in this way, we fulfill God’s law.
And, what does love require? Not to “condemn” sinners but, as Jesus
said of his mission, to “save” them from sin. St. Augustine once
expressed the idea this way: “We are to hate the sin, but to love
the sinner.”
Then, in today’s gospel, Jesus told his disciples to confront those
who sin, first, in private. The idea is to allow others who offend
us the opportunity to become more self-consciously aware or to
change their behavior rather than to embarrass them by gossiping
behind their backs. “If someone sins against you, go and tell him
his fault between you and him alone.”
This is called “fraternal” (or “brotherly”) correction, the way
blood-related brothers correct one another because their bond is not
just blood, but familial love, a proof of supernatural trust and
affection for the other person. It is how we expect others to
treat us. This is what Jesus commands of us as his disciples.
As
happened to Jesus, who practiced fraternal correction with just
about everyone he ran into, when we correct someone—and we
must—their feelings will likely be hurt and, in response, they may
very well hurt us, too. But, fear is no excuse for failing to do
what love requires.
When we heard the psalmist’s words, “If today you hear his voice,
harden not your hearts,” perhaps thought those words apply to all of
those people whose sins are so patently obvious to us. But, in
light of today’s readings, those words apply to us any time we allow
love of self to keep us from hearing God’s voice and responding to
it by loving the sinner while condemning the sin.
This Labor Day weekend, scripture reminds us that fraternal
correction is our “work” as disciples, for which we earn our daily
bread and prepare ourselves for membership in the kingdom of
heaven. We owe nothing to anyone except to love one another. We do
this by hearing the Lord’s voice, not hardening our hearts, and
warning sinners.
In
the event we are wrong, we can always take back and apologize for
the words we said. But as Lupe Fiasco states in his rap tune:
It’s
so loud Inside my head
With words that I should have said!
As I drown in my regrets
I can’t take back the words I never said
I can’t take back the words I never said
As
St. Paul wrote to the Romans: “Love does no evil to the neighbor.”
Let us not drown in regret for having failed to hear the Lord’s
voice and to warn the wicked to turn from their ways. Instead,
let us bring to fulfillment the mission which Jesus entrusted to us:
“I came
not to condemn the world but to save it.”
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HOMILY
