Denver Catholic

19 DENVER CATHOLIC | DECEMBER 26, 2015-JANUARY 8, 2016 Take advantage of mercy H appy Year of Mercy to you! To which the faithful respond "Thank you. And what exactly is a 'Year of Mercy' anyway?" Every twenty-five years, the Church proclaims a "Jubilee" or "Holy" year — a time for the faithful to turn back to God, to receive blessing and the forgiveness of sins. But the Pope, being Pope, doesn't have to confine himself to that twenty five year timetable. He can pro- claim an "extraordinary" holy year. And that is what Pope Francis has done in proclaiming 2016 the Year of Mercy. And in this special time, that message is centered in the Father's mercy. In fact, the Holy Father has designated the theme as "Merciful like the Father." I figure, before we launch an entire year focusing on the Father's mercy, we should figure out what it is. So I looked it up. I found two definitions: Kind or forgiving treatment of someone who could be treated harshly; and The discretionary power of a judge to pardon someone or to mitigate punishment. So what God's mercy look like? He treats us kindly when we could be treated harshly. He possesses the power to pardon or to mitigate punishment. Why do you suppose Pope Francis went to all of the trouble of proclaim- ing an extraordinary holy year just to focus on God's mercy? I suspect it had something to do with the fact that, in this culture, we are saddled with the two opposite but equally damaging miscon- ceptions about God's mercy. The first is that God is not merciful. Sometimes it's personal — we have com- mitted some sin that we think must be beyond the pale of God's forgiveness. Other times it's more general — we have this picture of a stern, remote deity who sits up on his throne, dangling helpless souls over the flames á la Jonathan Edwards' Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God. Either way, we conclude that we are better off without Him. The other, more prevalent miscon- ception is that God exists and loves us, but that we have no need of his mercy. Again, it manifests in two different ways. The more common is the belief that there is no need for mercy because there is no such thing as sin. There is ignorance, there is poverty, there is oppression. Those things may cause us to behave badly, but without any personal responsibility. There are also behaviors that used to be considered "sinful", but now we are "enlightened" and realize that God has no problem with them whatsoever. No sin, no need for God's mercy. And finally, there are those of us who acknowledge that sin exists, and that those people are badly in need of His mercy and forgiveness. But we have managed — generally through our own innate wonderfulness — to avoid becoming ensnared in that sin. So rock on, sinful people. Go to God and get some of that mercy. Tell him I said 'hi.' Yep, I think that covers pretty much everybody. God is perfection. Perfect truth. Per- fect goodness. Perfect love. We have all fallen short of that. Badly. We are all in need of His mercy. But if don't acknowl- edge that, if we don't ask for pardon and seek his mercy, we miss it. Hence the year-long reminder — and the abundant graces that come with it — courtesy of Pope Francis. So this is the year that we turn to God, recognizing our sinfulness, and ask for his mercy. And then, we become "mer- ciful like the Father." We extend that mercy to others. We treat kindly those we could treat harshly. We don't do that by pretending sin isn't sin. Sin causes damage to persons created in the image and likeness of God. That's what makes it sin. Pre- tending it doesn't exist isn't treating them kindly, it is standing by while the damage continues. That's why one of the spiritual works of mercy is "admon- ishing the sinner." But neither do we stand in judgment, or condemn, or fail to love everyone with the love of Christ. If they don't see it in us, where will they see it? But how can we do that while still "admonishing the sinner"? It's a tricky balancing act. One that we can't possi- bly manage ourselves. We need help, we need grace. And that's what we are given, in abun- dance, in a Holy Year. So take advantage of it. There's always something you can do W hen we first considered growing our family through international adoption, the idea came as more of a whisper than a shout. But after spending some time researching the global orphan crisis, we felt com- pelled and determined to do some- thing—it had quickly gone from a question of "should we pursue this?" to "how can we not pursue this?" You see, our bio- logical daughter went to bed each night with a full stomach and parents who not only loved her, but who were also able to care for her. She had not been left vul- nerable and alone to face abuse, neglect, war or disease. This is simply not the case for many children around the world, and so we moved forward in the process to adopt from Ethiopia. Today, thanks to that whisper from God all those years ago, we are parents to four Ethiopian children (in addition to our four biological children), including two daughters born with Down syndrome. I often find myself telling people that adoption is rarely an easy road, but it is an incredibly blessed road. It stretches and changes you, offers a front row seat to God's redemption in action, and chal- lenges the traditional notions of love and sacrifice. Ultimately, it necessitates a radical and authentic openness to the other, a willingness to embrace the wounded, the suffering, and the lonely. I have visited orphanages filled with chronically ill, blind, and disfigured children. I have seen the challenges my own adopted children face, in my home and at their schools, on a daily basis. I have spent hours in a hospital waiting room while my newly adopted daughter was placed on a bypass machine during open heart surgery. For my husband and me, this is simply part of how open- ness to life in marriage has manifested itself. The Lord asked us to make room in our hearts and in our home for "the least of these," and we gave our humble yes. It should come as no surprise then that as an adoptive mother, when I see stories about refugees in the news, I see the beautiful faces of my own four adopted children, the ones that give me hugs and love injera (the national food of Ethiopia) and make me laugh—no, they weren't technically designated as refugees, but they are indeed immi- grants who left a highly unstable situation, in hopes of obtaining a better life. When I see photographs of the desperate, exhausted women in refugee camps, I see the birth mothers of my children, and the horrible injustices that led them to relinquish their pre- cious babies. I have met these women, and looked in their eyes, and hugged them tight. And so, my heart breaks. How can we be the hands and feet of Jesus in a broken, hurting world? How can we respond to the present refugee crisis? A radical, self-giving love is rarely convenient or comfortable, as many of us know first-hand. Yet still Jesus asks us to give our yes, and then to trust, to hope, to keep the faith. While no one person or nation can singlehand- edly solve our world's problems, each of us can certainly do something. We can pray. We can acknowledge the human dignity of men, women, and children— created in the image and likeness of God—all around the world. We can take the opportunity to discern if we might be called to adopt or foster a child in need of a family. We can invest in the lives of immigrants and refugees in our own respective neighborhoods and parishes. We can, simply, learn to love the other. When people see me out with my eight children in tow, they often ask how I do it, or tell me I must be a saint— which is admittedly hilarious, because I assure you I'm anything but a saint. But one thing I can say without reservation is that to open your heart to the other, to welcome and embrace a precious man, woman or child in need, while certainly life-changing and transformative for them, will absolutely change you, too. You'll shed tears of joy as you witness their triumphs and victories, and you'll find yourself crying out to God for help as you watch them struggle. You'll dis- cover the messiness of life anew, and you'll experience a most strange para- dox: a beautiful and brave life, lived in obedience to Christ, is not really lived without risk of pain or loss. But don't think my family is anything particularly unique or special. We are just one big, messy, noisy family. We hail from different parts of the world, we have diverse talents and weaknesses, and we spend our days experiencing life, love, and faith together. As Catholics, we must make room in our hearts for our hurting brothers and sisters in other parts of the world. I can tell you from experience that they are crying out for love, hope, and Christ's mercy. And I can also tell you that, no matter who you are, there is always, always something you can do. Brianna Heldt is a Catholic writer, speaker and podcaster. Her work has appeared in various print and online publications Guest Column BRIANNA HELDT Bonacci is a syndicated columnist based in Denver and the author of We're On a Mission from God and Real Love. Guest Column MARY BETH BONACCI

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