Homily for St. Luke’s Mass for Catholic Medical Guild

St. Luke’s Mass for Catholic Medical Guild
Cathedral Basilica of Sts. Peter and Paul
Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

October 12, 2014

Twenty-eighth Sunday in Ordinary Time
Isaiah 25:6-10a
Psalm 23
Philippians 4:12-20
Matthew 22: 1-14

In our Gospel reading, Christ speaks in a parable to and about the People of the Old Covenant, and also to and about us (His Church–the People of the New Covenant) as guests invited and called to a wedding banquet. This metaphor conveys images of celebration, fun, revelry, and joy. The wedding imagery conveys an invitation to an intimate covenant made between God and human beings. Who would not want to be a part of such a celebration? Well, apparently, many.

These "many" are invited and called to the wedding banquet that the king is providing for his son, and they refuse to come. Just like in last Sunday’s gospel of the parable of the tenants in the vineyard, when the vineyard owner sends servants to obtain the produce and the tenants abuse, mistreat and kill the servants. So also in this gospel, the king’s servants are abused, mistreated and killed when they summon the invitees to the wedding feast. It is not now a refusal to give the fruits of the vineyard to the landowner; it is now a refusal to let oneself be invited to a wedding banquet, image of joy, covenantal union, communion and life. How hard-hearted and close-minded might these supposed invitees be? They feel that they have enough knowledge about their status and identity independent of their host’s initiative. They understand their participation in the life of the kingdom to be sufficiently established on their own knowledge alone, and a response is not only unnecessary, it is not wanted because it would move them from their selfish complacency. Even joy will not move them. Their knowledge is self-contained; a covenant would only inconvenience them with expectations to practice and to offer an active response. In other words, “Why should they bother?”

The imagery of marriage and the wedding banquet is used in many places in Sacred Scripture to denote closeness and intimacy with the Lord. The Lord wants his people close to him in joyous celebration. So, in the parable from today’s Gospel, the king then sends out his servants to invite other people who are not complacent in their own status and who accept the invitation to enter into covenantal unity. They enter and join the celebration. Their entrance and joining the celebration requires a preparation and action on their part–simple passivity will not suffice. Thus, the late invitee who is not adequately dressed for the celebration (who does not follow through with his response to the invitation) is cast out into the street.

The relationship between physicians and patients is often understood as a covenant; that is, as consisting of intimacy and trust in a unity unlike any other simple professional occupation. For some physicians, the structures of contemporary medical education steeped in technology and a disproportionate demand for publishable research, have prompted them not to respond to the invitation to medicine as an actual practice involved with the needs of patients. Sadly, some physicians instead mistakenly settle for science as sufficient for their identities and status as physicians. Like the invitees who refuse the generous call of the king, they view the invitation to the celebration of the intimate covenant of medical practice as not only unnecessary but also as a burden. Research is enough for them; they need not respond to people.

The covenant between physicians and patients has been further jeopardized in recent years by the same old selfishness of sin but dressed in the new and insufficient garments of bureaucratic proceduralism and commercialism. This jeopardy is caused by those that bother to enter into the medical practice but never really follow through in the sacrifice required to care for patients. Instead they fearfully surrender their covenant of care to the demands for cost-efficiency made by third party payers steeped in bureaucracy and other false idols of for-profit healthcare. Like the man in the parable, they respond to the invitation but do not follow through with perseverance but cave in to fear.

The parable in today’s Gospel conveys the fulfillment by Christ of Isaiah’s prophesy proclaimed in our first reading–the unshrouding of the veil that covers all nations–that is sin and its bitter effects including ignorance, sickness, and ultimately death. The victory of Christ establishes a new covenant and fulfills the old one. It falls to Christ alone to unveil the veil of death that clouds humanity. While physicians and health care practitioners assist in this mission of overcoming suffering and death through care and healing–it is never for physicians to remove the veil neither through inducing death nor by unnecessarily prolonging it.

Our lives as Catholics involve a response to an invitation from the Lord. The response begins in Baptism and continues through the twists and turns and requires not only preparation but perseverance in good deeds. During this month dedicated to Respect Life, it is incumbent upon us to pray for our physicians and to thank them for their covenantal care for us–which they regularly do at great risk to their livelihood because of their courage in following through with perseverance in their Baptismal response.

We are all invited to the wedding banquet, but being chosen depends upon our response and our perseverance. The poor, speechless guy in the gospel is not appropriately clad, and as a result is cast out from the wedding banquet. He remains a bystander even after he is invited to participate. Though invited and called, he was not prepared–not ready, not chosen. The invited, but poorly dressed and cast out individual is likewise the “half-hearted,” “not-too-sure,” “blows with the prevailing winds”, unfaithful and ill-prepared supposed “follower.” Though invited and called, he was not ready for where the call would take him.

Every Sunday, and today again, we are invited to the Wedding Banquet of the Lamb–the Eucharist instituted by Christ. We are called to communion with our God–closeness, intimate proximity with the Lord. “Blessed are those called to the supper of the Lamb and we are not worthy to have Him taken under our roof, but He says but the word and each of our souls is healed.” “Many are invited, but few are chosen.” What about you and me? Are we “dressed” for it? Are we ready and prepared?


The Joy of the Priesthood

On October 4, I delivered the keynote address for the annual Welcome Dinner for Holy Trinity Seminary. I was pleased to do this because of several reasons. First, the Diocese of Fort Worth has five seminarians currently being formed at Holy Trinity Seminary and being educated at the University of Dallas. They are Tyler Dubeck, Jason Allan, Austin Hoodenpyle, David LaPointe, and Anthony Vecchio. Secondly, one of our own Fort Worth priests, Fr. Jonathan Wallis, currently serves as a formation advisor on the Seminary’s faculty. Finally, it was my joyful privilege to serve as the rector of Holy Trinity Seminary between July of 2008 and November of 2013, before my appointment as the Bishop of Fort Worth. Please pray for Holy Trinity Seminary, for vocations, and for the perseverance of our seminarians.

+ Bishop Michael F. Olson

Holy Trinity Seminary Welcome Dinner
Irving Convention Center, Irving, Texas
October 4, 2014

One of the most challenging questions priests hear is one that we are asked very often: “Why are you a priest?” It is a challenging question for several reasons. First, when I hear it asked of me I wonder with suspicion, “Why is this person asking me this question? Is there something about my behavior that is prompting them to ask the question?” Secondly, it is a very personal question that touches at the core upon a very subtle yet sobering experience that each priest has had spiritually with Christ. Finally, because of this personal experience with Christ, the ordinary parlance of daily conversation usually falls short of being able to capture the true measure of a satisfactory answer to the sincere question.

As a result, we priests in an attempt to counter the popular perceptions portrayed by the media, often respond by speaking about what makes us happy or satisfies us in our pastoral ministry (avoiding the mention of what can aggravate us about our pastoral ministry) and thus, we attempt to convey what we really believe the priesthood is – a truly happy life and a very worthwhile endeavor for a young man to consider. Yet, there seems to be something lacking in such a response.

I would propose that, that “something lacking” in most answers is joy – true Christian joy. Joy is different from both pleasure and happiness. Pleasure is what is appreciated by the physical senses. Happiness is what is appreciated by the internal senses of the soul. Both happiness and pleasure are very much a part of what it means to be human, and thus, what it means to be a priest. There are many pleasurable things that attract us to a priestly life: the aesthetics of music and art in the liturgical life of the church, and the comfort and security of the basic environment of our lives.

There are many satisfying and happy aspects that we enjoy and that are attractive in our priestly lives – the satisfaction of a job well done, the satisfaction of a homily well-crafted and delivered, the happiness of a parish well administered and supervised, and the satisfaction of catechetical programs well-implemented. All of these things are both pleasurable and satisfying, but in themselves are ephemeral and transitory. None of these things when taken in itself involves real joy.

Joy is a supernatural gift that we receive through God’s grace. Our joy as priests comes to us through a point of faith and a point of hope. First, the point of faith is that the priesthood exists entirely at Christ’s initiative for the sake of the Eucharist. There is no Eucharist without the priesthood. Without Jesus’ decision to institute the Eucharist, there is no priesthood.

Secondly, the point of hope that every priest considers is that his own priestly vocation is not something that he has initiated as a career or lifestyle choice, but is also even more particularly and personally initiated by Christ. “It is I who have chosen you, not you who have chosen me.” There is no institution in the natural order of society parallel to the priesthood. The priesthood is an entirely graced reality that transforms our humanity in all of its frailty for the spread of the Gospel.

Now many people receive the gift of joy through other vocations – the vocation of marriage, even particular vocations in medicine, in law, in education, in business, in political life – yet each of these vocations also exist as part of the natural order. Each of these lives receives its vocational character through the Sacrament of Baptism – another gift freely given and fundamentally initiated by Christ. Yet, each of these vocations also exists in the natural order of human society.

Joy is something that really cannot be adequately represented on the terms of the natural order itself. In popular culture, joy is usually depicted more like delirium. Contemporary depictions of joy are usually clown-like and disturbing – manifesting what could be perceived as an acute need for intense psychotropic medication. Like suffering, joy is something that the contemporary world cannot address meaningfully. The lack of joy in our contemporary world is closely associated with the lack of trust. Our current situation in postmodern society, imbued with the fragments of the modern character of philosophy even in its textual residue, tempts and seduces us to act against trust and confidence in every facet of our lives. The Gospel that we most need to proclaim and hear is the Gospel of trust that it might blossom in confidence and joy. Priests are indispensable for this mission.

The joy of the priestly vocation makes clear that fidelity to Christ’s unique sacrifice in the institution of the Eucharist (the gift of Christ’s Body and Blood) is the only way of giving God fitting thanks. In entrusting us, His disciples and His priests with the mission of the Eucharist, Jesus even risks betrayal – yet, consider how necessary this act of trust is on His part to the celebration of the Eucharist and to our own salvation. His generous act of entrustment with the sacred mysteries is what gives us the grace of confidence in His love and in our ministry.

Trust: The marrow of the personal commitment of faith, hope, and charity of the baptized. It is the lack of trust (and the assault on trust) that the satisfying and pleasurable aspects of our priestly lives in themselves cannot provide. These aspects in themselves offer no trust and thus they can provide no lasting confidence for the believer in Christ. It is Christ’s perfect sacrifice that offers precisely that unique gift of confidence. It is a lack of trust that threatens the integrity of the Christian community.

Trust has been wounded, trust has been crucified, and trust is precisely what is at the heart of our mission as the Church, more particularly in our vocation as priests, and even more particularly in the formational endeavor of the seminary. In the seminary, the faculty, the students, and in a special way the bishops (each and all) have a responsibility to develop what are consciously trusting relationships for the formation of a healthy and confident church – not an institution that is sick and turned inward as Pope Francis has identified. To fulfill our mission we must first trust Christ. Without this trust placed in Christ, confidence will vaporize into the arrogance and entitlement of clericalism (a truly modern characteristic repugnant to the Gospel) devoid of joy and bereft of confidence.

There are many aspects of our priestly ministry that make us happy. There are many parts of our priestly ministry that please us and comfort us. Yet, sometimes they are present and sometimes they are absent.

Today we celebrate the feast of St. Francis of Assisi, the regnal patron of our Holy Father. Popular culture presents St. Francis as benign and joyful – in fact, delirious. In the popular mind he is more associated with the cable channel Animal Planet than with the Christian faith. Yet, these popular depictions neglect the means by which St. Francis is truly joyful – his entire conformity to Christ represented by the stigmata – the marks of Christ’s crucifixion in which he shares. The joy of the priesthood is engendered by Christ’s call to each of us to share in His Cross – because on the Cross, we see no pleasure, no happiness, but the perfect joy of the Son’s will lovingly surrendered in obedience to the will of the Father.


Homily for Alumni Day at Theological College

The faculty at Theological College of the Catholic University of America asked me as an alumnus to be the principal celebrant and homilist for the Mass on the occasion of their annual Alumni Day, October 1, 2014. The special character of the celebration this year is marked by the commemoration of the centennial of the death of Theodore Basselin. The generosity of Theodore Basselin endowed a “seat of learning in which highly trained and worthy young men, selected towards the end of their college courses from Catholic institutions of learning, should receive three years of gratuitous education, including special training in Scholastic Philosophy, and in the science and practice of Oratory – to educate and form candidates for the diocesan priesthood.” For almost a century, the Basselin Scholarship has paid to educate and form many priests who have served the People of God. The Basselin program has influenced the life of the Diocese of Fort Worth – Bishop Joseph Delaney was a Basselin scholar (Class of 1956, 1957); I was privileged to be a Basselin scholar (Class of 1988, 1989); and one of our seminarians, Samuel Maul is a current recipient of the Basselin scholarship. It was a joy for me to return to Theological College not only to revisit my personal memories, but also to visit with seven of our diocese’s seminarians who are currently students at the Catholic University of America. Please pray for their perseverance.

+ Bishop Michael F. Olson

Homily for Alumni Day of Theological College
Crypt Church of the Basilica of the
National Shrine of the Immaculate Conception

Washington, DC
October 1, 2014

Hebrews 10:12-33
Luke 22:14-23

A Basselin formation can be an inconvenience to ordinary life, or to life in “the workaday world,” as Josef Pieper might have said. Shortly after the completion of my Basselin studies I returned home to Fort Worth and went out for dinner with several friends. The menu read “spaghetti with zesty marinara sauce.” I inquired of the waiter, “There seems to be an ambiguity in the text; what exactly does “zesty” mean? He responded, “Marinara doesn’t have meat in it.” I continued, “Yes, I understand that, but why is it described as ‘zesty’?” The waiter responded, “I don’t know…it’s just a word…you know, ‘zesty’.” Shocked, I moved further into futility, “Has language no meaning to you? It cannot be void of content. What does it disclose?” Silence. “Never mind, I’ll just have the fish.”

It is a challenge to preach a homily on the occasion of Alumni Day because the day can lend itself to nostalgia. Yet, the Word of God and the Liturgy are never about nostalgia – simply a wistful desire to return to what is perceived as a more pleasant place or time. The Word of God and the Liturgy are eternal and they envelop the present moment – the “now” through the living revelation of Scripture and Tradition. Christ calls us to follow ever more deeply into the mystery of our communal life as the Church through the celebration of the Eucharist. It is for the sake of this Mystery that Christ continues to call each of us to the priesthood and to form us partially through the means of the seminary. It is the heart of this mystery of our vocation that engenders gratitude in our hearts for this invitation from Christ to follow Him and to give God thanks in the only way we may fittingly do so – the celebration of the Eucharist.

The overarching theme of the Book of Hebrews is the summons to perseverance in faith in Christ; not falling from that gift of faith that has been given and received. The Book of Hebrews encourages. It challenges. It appeals to faith’s recipients not to forget their trust in the uniqueness of the life and sacrifice of Christ and thus subsequently settling for the external prescriptions of the old Law. The author of the Book of Hebrews makes a distinction on the one hand between the sacrifices of the Levitical cult of the Temple that were only being performed at that time procedurally but without the deeper covenantal obligations of interior faith in God, and on the other hand with the unique sacrifice of Jesus that does not involve merely external procedures but the total gift of His will lovingly surrendered to the will of the Father in the action of the Cross. The Book of Hebrews exhorts the community to persevere in confident faith in the work of Christ and not to return to fear that prompts a simply procedural observance of the prescriptions of the Temple worship.

The Gospel passage taken today from Luke makes clear that the fidelity to Christ’s unique sacrifice in the institution of the Eucharist (the gift of Christ’s Body and Blood) is the only way of giving God fitting thanks. In entrusting us, His disciples and priests with the mission of the Eucharist, Jesus even risks betrayal. Yet, how necessary is this act of trust on the part of Christ to the celebration of the Eucharist and to the efficacy of this unique sacrifice. Jesus’ generous act of entrustment with the sacred mysteries is what gives us the grace of confidence in His love.

Trust: The marrow of the personal commitment of faith, hope, and charity of the baptized. It is the lack of trust (and the assault on trust) that the simply procedural actions of the Levitical cult contemporary to the writing of the Book of Hebrews produced. It is the lack of trust that threatened the integrity of the Christian community. It is this lack of trust against which the author of the Book of Hebrews warns us even today. The external procedures in themselves offer no trust and thus they provide no confidence for the believer in Christ, whose perfect sacrifice offers precisely that unique gift of confidence.

Like the ritualistic proceduralism admonished against in the Book of Hebrews, the modern character of philosophy even in its contemporary textual residue tempts and seduces us to act against trust and confidence in our postmodern age.

Let’s round up the usual suspects. For example, Rene Descartes with his method of radical doubt that bleaches distinction out of nature, has produced not confidence but the arrogance of technology as an end in itself thereby damaging the covenant between physicians and patients by distorting the purpose of medicine and care.

Immanuel Kant, with his categorical imperiousness, has produced not confidence but the arrogance of ethical proceduralism. This has abolished the human need for a trustworthy and prudent mentor to act morally through the discernment of the good and the true in the midst of confusing circumstances – to have confidence in virtuous action.

Thomas Hobbes and John Locke, with their brutish man perfumed by checks and balances, have produced not peace and confidence but an uneasy truce among individuals unduly entitled by self-interest as arrogantly institutionalized by the volition of the state.

How are we to respond pastorally?

I propose a metaphor wrapped in an anecdote, most especially on this feast of St. Thérèse of Lisieux, Doctor of the Church, the greatest saint in modern times, who came to Carmel mostly to pray for priests, who lived in a community as by far its youngest member (as Basselins have lived for almost one hundred years in the seminary community of Theological College). When Thérèse travelled to Rome on pilgrimage with her father and sister, the family stopped in Paris and stayed in a hotel – the hotel where Thérèse encountered an elevator for the first time. This experience led her to devise the metaphor of the elevator of God’s Grace by which God spares us the impossible staircase of self-sufficiency in the life of holiness and gives us lovingly the elevator of His grace that lifts us up to Him. Confidence rests in God’s love – not in our educational and formation methods, not in our administrative bureaucracy, never in the minimalism of liturgical proceduralism, not in our magisterial imperatives, but in Christ’s love for us in which He has called us each by name to follow Him and to care for His People.

The anecdote is noted by Bishop Patrick Ahern in his book entitled Maurice and Therese: the Story of a Love. The footnote states that the registry of the hotel in Paris where Thérèse stayed with her family shows also that Friedrich Nietszche stayed as a guest there at the same time. My Basselin formed mind likes to imagine them riding the elevator side by side with Thérèse enjoying the ride as yet another grace, and Nietzsche frantically pushing the button again and again muttering “Will to power, will to power, will to power.”

In this Year of the Basselin, the 100th anniversary of the death of Theodore Basselin, for whose repose we pray and for whose gift for our formation we thank God, we remember that his donation was given out of the desire for sound preaching of the Gospel from pastors. Not simply that our seminary formation should produce efficiently rhetorical technicians, or ecclesial bureaucrats, or imperious autocrats, but that we as priests truly preach the Word of God in order to shepherd confidently Christ’s people into the mystery of our redemption. The desire of our benefactor, Theodore Basselin, was that we do so effectively in the contemporary circumstances in which the People of God live. This desire is simply a repetition of the desire of THE BENEFACTOR – Jesus Christ. For us, charged with Christ’s mission today, our Basselin formation enables us to decipher the shards of postmodernity that wound our people and our society on a daily basis most especially in their capacity for trust and confidence. To fulfill our mission we must first trust God. Without this trust, confidence will vaporize into the arrogance and entitlement of clericalism – a truly modern characteristic.

Trust has been wounded and trust is precisely what is at the heart of our mission as the Church, more particularly in our vocation as priests, and even more particularly in the formational endeavor of the Seminary. In the seminary, the faculty, the students, and in a special way the bishops each and all have a responsibility to develop consciously trusting relationships for the formation of a healthy and confident church. Not an institution that is sick and turned inward as Pope Francis has spoken about. The human aspects of the structure of the institution itself cannot do this – only human beings can do it with God’s Grace.

The Gospel most in need of proclamation today is the restoration of confidence in our life as the Church within society. Confidence can only be engendered by trust – the marrow of living faith in Christ. It is the trust that everything is a grace. It is the wonderful and paradoxical mystery that Christ first entrusts us His priests with the celebration of the Eucharist that we might lead His people to trust Him more deeply to flourish with authentic confidence in the spread of the Gospel today.


The Catholic Voice in Pro-Life

Annual Catholic Respect Life Gala
Diocese of Fort Worth
September 27, 2014

There are many voices in the pro-life universe. There are many distinct and important voices that speak for the good of human life. All of these are important and in need of respect, yet we are here tonight to speak and to listen to the particular voice that is the Catholic voice – a voice that during this past year I have personally become ever more responsible for articulating. Pope Francis told us recently ordained bishops last week to preach the Gospel – all of it!

The Catholic voice in the pro-life world views death not as the ultimate enemy – it understands that the status of the real enemy belongs to sin as authored by the prince of liars. The dignity of human life rests in its identity engendered in each person as being made in the image and likeness of God – a likeness that is to be revealed most fully when a human being freely acts in accord with his or her human vocation to love God and his neighbor. The ultimate end of the human person is to love God and our neighbor – the human being is always drawn into community with God and other human beings.

We as the Church have the responsibility today to proclaim this Gospel of the dignity of the human person in the midst of what St. John Paul II referred to as the culture of death. This culture is the intellectual and moral stance that so exalts the individual status of a human being, that it demands the resolution of society’s social problems by the killing of weaker human beings – for rape and domestic violence-it proposes abortion, for crime, it demands capital punishment, for limits in allocation of health care resources it proposes euthanasia and assisted suicide.

We must be very careful so as not to understand that at the heart of this culture is not the human and existential phenomenon of death; but rather at the heart of this culture is selfishness, it is sin. Sin – the willful refusal to love God and also to love my neighbor. It is sin – the great lie of the serpent in the garden; the arrogant boast of Lucifer – “I will not serve;” it is the cowardly abandonment of integrity of Adam, “the woman whom you put here with me – she gave me fruit from the tree, so I ate it;” the passive and arrogant mendacity of Cain – “Am I my brother’s keeper?;” and the cynical dishonesty of Pilate, “What is truth?” Sin, not death (its bitter fruit) is at the heart of this culture.

The Catholic response to this culture is never reactive – it is not primarily directed at the culture at all, it is directed at the persons most affected and attacked within the milieu of this culture – the weak, the unborn, their mothers and fathers, the terminally ill, the poor. Christ established us as His Church – not His culture. As His Church we are called to proclaim and to live His truth and His love – all of it – made manifest perfectly in the mystery of His Cross. As members of His Church, we are united with Christ and become truly the light of the world.

Such light recently shined forth when the Bishops of Texas, adamantly opposed to abortion as a direct assault on innocent human life and exercising our responsibility to teach authentically the Gospel (through the means of our conference) supported legal measures that respected the health and precious life of women by requiring that abortion facilities should meet the same rigorous standards of regulation as required by other ambulatory surgery centers. The opposition to these measures revealed that the health of women is not really a concern of abortion proponents.

We are reminded that in Christ we are the light of the world, not its heat. Light clarifies and helps all to see. Light drives away the darkness of fear, of hatred, of ignorance and of anguish. Christ tells us that we are called to be the Light of the World, that we might dispel fear, and anguish, and ignorance – each chief components of the culture of death.

We are the light of the world when we reflect Christ in our actions and in our words, when we are transparent and honest – in a word, truthful – so that He might shine through us. Yet, when we are not transparent – that is when we are not honest and merciful, permitting the love of God to shine through us in words and deeds, the Light becomes heat because it is turned inward upon ourselves and not outward in service to the weakest members of society, the unborn, the terminally ill, the chronically disabled. The Light becomes about us and not about the revelation of Jesus Christ that each of us is made in the image and likeness of God.

St. Paul writes to the Corinthians about just such an example of when light becomes heat. He writes about divisions within the community regarding who belongs to Paul and who belongs to Apollos. Paul reminds them strongly that they belong to Christ, and not to either of these men. Some in the Corinthian community were more concerned about the Church as a movement and means for a political agenda instead of about the work of love and the truth of the Gospel. They block the Light of Christ with this barrier of fear and insecurity and of sin, slandering each other with partial truths, instead of being transparent with love. This barrier causes heat, if you will, that creates divisions and foments discord and scandal among people of good will by employing an approach whereby the end justifies the means – a fundamental metric of immorality in the objective order.

As your bishop, I am deeply aware of my responsibility entrusted to me at my ordination and installation to speak the Catholic voice with clarity, resolve, and compassion. It is my responsibility to trust God’s Grace given to me to speak in this voice with avoidance of division and confusion.

One such area of confusion involves current Texas statutes governing end-of-life care. Current law contains definitions that could permit the withdrawal of basic care for vulnerable patients without notifying their proxy decision-makers or families. The Texas bishops, working through our conference, want to change this legislation.

Some voices in the arena of pro-life have misrepresented the Church’s position as favoring new legislation that would require the government to impose indefinite procedures on dying patients, even when such procedures would have no medical benefit and could be needlessly torturous. Such an approach reacts to one extreme that imposes the refusal or withdrawal of basic care by imposing a contrary extreme that demands burdensome procedures without medical benefit in the effort to prolong dying. Each extreme approach fails to respect the legitimate ethical judgment and decision-making of family members to be exercised prudentially on behalf of their incapacitated loved ones.

As your bishop I state that this reaction is not within the pale of orthodox Catholic teaching regarding legitimate care for the dying and terminally ill. Those voices that make claims to the contrary are misrepresenting the Church and causing division through fostering distrust of the integrity of the authentic pastoral teaching of the bishops in Texas as articulated through our state’s Catholic conference.

It is important for us as Catholics to be vigilant in our own examination of how we live our vocation in favor of life. When do our voices provide more heat than light? Where do we find the fruits of the Holy Spirit in the adherence of our position? If we are not honest and compassionate, we block and promote a barrier to the light that Christ shines on and through human life. We then can reduce the beautiful and mysterious truth about life to a political agenda that distorts the family and society into simply a group of self-interested individuals monitored by the government. The result is more heat than light; a furtherance of the violent values exhibited by the culture of death, and the abdication of our responsibility to our baptismal call – the call to preach the Gospel of Life – all of it.