tvc.dsj.org | December 11, 2018
COMMUNITY
5
Bishop Oscar Cantú Homily From SCFFC Liturgy
Talk about all of life’s experience.
Over the past few weeks there has
been a cloud of smoke that hovered
for many days over the Bay Area and
over all of Northern California. And
children were delighted that they were
able to stay home and not go to school.
During those days I made a foolish
choice to go out for a jog. I realized
how foolish it was when I couldn’t
breathe. Halfway through the jog, my
legs completely cramped, so I walked
the rest of the way. But it was some-
thing to learn from a horrible experi-
ence. That cloud of smoke, that didn’t
allow the sun to penetrate, to you and
me we couldn’t see the sun. Or at least
not very well. Not until the rain was
sent to us. And it was allowed to clear
things out; to clear the air out.
It was as many years ago when I
had returned home to my diocese at
that time – in Houston – after complet-
ing some studies. I was assigned to a
parish, and I had been there just a few
weeks when there was a major funeral
that was celebrated by the pastor, and
I knew of the young man who died. I
didn’t know him personally. But I had
known of him. I had heard of stories
about him from many others. Then
I met his mother. She was a regular
churchgoer. And at the funeral, which
I certainly went to, I visited with the
mother to extend my condolences for
the death of her son on his untimely
death. She sat with me because she
wanted to tell me the story of her son.
I had heard his story like many other
people But she wanted to tell me from
her perspective the story of her son.
It went something like this. He was
born about 40 years prior, with no legs.
He was born with a condition where
the bones were tremendously brittle,
and they would break, seemingly for
no reason at all. His body didn’t have
the capacity to rejuvenate or to rebuild
them.
His arms were truncated. He did
have a few fingers and hands. He
was able to maneuver around in his
wheelchair.
The doctors told the parents when
he was born, I will call him John. To-
day, that, John would not live past a
few days or maybe a couple of weeks.
And John continued to live and John
continued to grow. He continued to
be encouraged. He began to speak. He
continued to be an artist and to be fed
spiritually and physically. He learned
to maneuver his truncated body the
best he could. He was often going back
to the hospital to recover from broken
bones. And he was back in his wheel-
chair and he became rather outspoken
and smart.
Bishop Oscar Cantú gave the homily during
Mass at the 2018 Santa Clara Faith Forma-
tion Conference held at the Santa Clara
Convention Center on November 29-30.
Photos courtesy of Jen Vazquez
He never wanted to be lax person.
He spoke out for himself. As he began
to go to school he noticed that not all
of the sidewalks in his neighborhood
were pretty and that he was not able
to maneuver his wheelchair. And so he
himself went and advocated for better
pavement and new sidewalks so that
he and others could maneuver around
in their wheelchairs.
And so as I drove through the
neighborhood I saw that all the side-
walks were paved and were acces-
sible. I didn’t know his father, who
had died earlier. His mother was a
quiet woman. She was tremendously
thankful. Some of the stories that I
have heard from other priests and
seminarians that worked in the par-
ish were that he was always involved
and most especially in youth ministry.
He would arrive in his wheelchair.
And can you even imagine teenagers,
many of them, who are awkward and
not wanting to be there. Some of them
not terribly comfortable with others.
And then they see this stranger in a
wheelchair with no legs and truncated
arms. And he would. pop out of his
wheelchair onto the floor and wobble
around and tell jokes. And completely
disarm them, so that they were no lon-
ger concerned that they were having
a bad hair day. This man had no legs.
They were no longer concerned if they
had a pimple on their nose. This man
had truncated arms and here he is tell-
ing jokes. Wobbling on the floor. They
were no longer concerned that they
were socially awkward. Here was this
young man with a squeaky voice. He
never complained about his physical
condition, his mother told me that. He
had never complained that he didn’t
have legs. He didn’t complain that he
was often in the hospital recovering
from a broken bone or surgeries. He
didn’t complain about his arms or his
hands. His mother told me that in the
past couple of years that his health had
declined significantly. Then he was
more often than not in the hospitals
with broken bones and his internal
organs began to shut down. And he
got tired of being in the hospital. He
got tired of going back and forth to the
hospital. It wasn’t until the day before
he died that he finally complained to
his mother. He said, “I think I’m going
to turn this body back in.” It took him
40 years to complain and say that he
got a lemon. A man who for 40 years
had been making lemonade out of the
lemons he got, and handing it out for
free to those in need.
I wonder how many of us com-
plained to ourselves. I know I complain
every day. I complain about the traffic. I
complain of smoky weather. I complain
about a lot of things. But how many of
us take the opportunity to reach out to
those who are thirsty? Take the lemon-
ade and make it sweet, with kindness,
with tenderness, with love.
The theme of this conference is
“Building Bridges of Hope.” During
those several days that the smoke
covered Northern California, we
struggled to see the sun. I wonder if
when the ashes had settled where we
struggle to see the presence of God.
Wondering if God is really here. Does
he even exist? Many of you were in
a conference the past couple of days.
Listening about the trends and the
numbers of young people in t he
Church. People have been telling us for
decades that young people are leaving
the Church. We knew about that. And
many of them leave once they finish
high school and go off to college. Once
they move out of the home, they disas-
sociate from their family; from their
parents, and from their Church. But
new studies are telling us that the av-
erage age of young people leaving the
church is 13, because there is a certain
moral and spiritual cloud that does not
allow them to see the presence and the
love of Jesus, does not allow them to
see or experience the Lord. And we
ask ourselves, “What can I do about
that? I’m just one person.” John never
said “I’m not good. I have no legs and
have truncated arms,” and he never
asked himself that. He simply threw
himself into the middle of the situation
and trusted that God would appear.
To trust in the Holy Spirit and to
know the Holy Spirit is present. The
Holy Spirit is anxious to transform
lives and to touch hearts. But he needs
you and me to throw ourselves into the
fray. And God will do the work. As the
Father has said me, so I now pray that
they may believe.” That’s why we come
in here today to be nourished, to be
nourished at this table. To learn what
we can about our faith, to experience
the local Church the regional Church.
We are sent. Jesus needs you and me
to be witnesses. It does not have to be
perfect. We need not have all the skills,
that we think that we need. But we do
need this faith, and when we act, that
is when we allow open the gates so
that the Holy Spirit may rain down
and dissipate the clouds of doubt.