Those who know me, know I have a deep struggle with the teachings, style and person of Paul. This is of little importance as he is a part of our tradition we must wrestle with. I’ll give him one thing though, he knew how to write a line that clings. 

We know well what it feels like to be told “the time is running out.” Time is running out before we experience a new World War. Time is running out before our planet becomes uninhabitable. Time is running out before another “election of a lifetime…”

Friends, we are fools if we think we can be passive in this moment. But we are far worse off should we simply succumb to believing that there is no time left. For in truth, time is merely something we experience as we seek to understand eternity. Time is not inherently a finite resource. As long as there remains even a single person who refuses to give into absolute despair, there is still time. 

When opening the Second Vatican Council in 1962, Pope John XXIII solemnly expressed that we must dismiss the “prophets of doom.” In saying this he was explicitly addressing the fear some of his fellow prelates had regarding the world of the time. His critics believed the world was too lost, too depraved, to truly be a sibling to the Church in any real way. They feared tarnishing the sanctity of “Holy Mother Church” and that what our forebears had built for centuries may come tumbling down. These concerns sound familiar to us today and, in all sincerity, Pope John and his opponents both had some points to be made. 

Those with any knowledge of American Catholic history know that the Church did have major changes in the years after the Council. Long clung-to structures fell. Rapidly. But change does not equate to doom. 

Catholics at this time were forced to realize that their fellow Christians (not in communion with Rome) and even their neighbors of different faiths were not the enemy, not to be feared. They were forced to address the system of unmitigated power that was given to men in cassocks simply because of their job titles. And (I would say, most importantly of all) the ritual mass that formally represented an attempt to pacify a temperamental deity, was transformed into a place where all may find hope in communal celebration. All this in theory at least. 

That was then, this is now. We remain in a transitory place and the prophets of doom have not found new occupations. 

We all know that the world could be a better place, but I feel as though most of us are paralyzed by fear and question what can be done. This is not the same as apathy, but it is a sister emotion that can be just as detrimental. The simple fact is, we must do something. Anything. 

Love is the natural heritage of all the children of God. It is something that comes naturally to every person, but many of us have placed conditions on it. Many of us have even let ourselves believe that it is something to be afraid of. Truly friends, the only way we can actually respond to any issue, is with the absolute conviction that only love is worth pursuing here. We only get out of this when our collective consciousness is raised to a level to where we let ourselves out. 

The world in its present form is passing away. It has to. It needs to. 

Before us are two options. In all things, there are only two options. Fear and love. We can listen to the prophets of doom. We can sit and prepare for “the end.” We can watch our Palestinian siblings suffer while throwing our hands in the air exclaiming “What am I supposed to do!?” We can come up with all sorts of cliches about how our individual efforts are irrelevant to the climate emergency. We can keep tithing at parishes where clergy spew hate speech each Sunday…Or, we can choose love. 

I hope you do, friend. 

For the past few months I have been carrying my well-worn copy of Marianne Williamson’s 1992 book A Return to Love with me everywhere I’ve gone. It’s seen half the country and more than a few bars. The book came recommended to me by many of my gay elders, who found healing and hope in it during their coming of age. This is not necessarily a recommendation, but it has been a faithful companion to me. That said, when discussing spiritual practice, she says the following: 

“Love takes more than crystals and rainbows, it takes discipline and practice. It’s not just a sweet sentiment from a Hallmark card. It is a radical commitment to a different way of being, a mental response to life that is completely at odds with the thinking of the world.” 

Friends, I wonder: Why is it that when we experience love, we have the sensation of “being home?” It’s something we wish we could feel forever, a moment we savor as long as possible. It’s something so…strangely natural. Maybe because it’s what we’re meant for, it’s who we are, and it’s how the world should be.

My suggestion is simply this: Pray that you may have the eyes to see the presence of love and dare to imagine what a world shaped by it may look like! Find time to meditate on this daily until it starts becoming clear. 

When we finally understand how precious this world, this life, and all that we share it with are; then we can address any issue that comes our way. Then we can not only address, but can heal. 

We each owe our sister, Sinéad O’Connor, a deep debt of gratitude. 

We are now at a point where we can say without doubt that her actions on Saturday Night Live in 1992 were prophetic, and it’s unfortunate she never got the thanks she deserved in this life. (For those unfamiliar, Sinéad O’Connor famously tore up a photograph of Pope John Paul II on national television in protest of the Roman Catholic Church’s refusal to address the clerical sex abuse scandal). 

Sinéad knew firsthand the destructive capability of religion, but she also believed in its unique power to transform this messy world. Growing up in Catholic Ireland, she saw the complicity of the Church in the evil of child abuse, yet saw the devotion and love of the women religious who nurtured her love for music. Her own deep conviction that the world and the Church could do better led her to take many “radical” stances throughout her life, which we now often take for granted. 

Sinéad remained vocal that women should have the right to seek ordination. She sought equal protection and rights for LGBTQ citizens. And was never afraid to get her point across, no matter the medium. 

So, to revisit that night twenty-some years ago once more, while performing Bob Marley’s “War,” Sinéad ties this all together for us: 

We know we will win.
We have confidence in the victory,
Of good over evil!