One feels a certain amount of compassion for a parish priest who must face a congregation today of young and old, single, married, widowed, divorced, divorced and remarried, with a gospel incident that lays out Christ's teaching on divorce in the boldest, clearest terms: it is forbidden.

In the face of a culture that takes a benign attitude toward it, Catholics are as benign as any others. Yet, even in an age of ever more frequent divorce, the original vows are usually taken with a pledge of permanent love till death. Though some are not marriages at all and are declared such for some defect, most are marriages. And so the divorced are placed in a position that can be questioned. This is an addition to the sadness of a dream gone and a lovely promise come to naught. When there are children, there is genuine tragedy. Divorce looks easy. It isn't. It is very hard. On everyone. So any sort of judgment, by a monk for example, seems uncalled for. Prayer, compassion, hope do seem called for.

We witness the enormous impact of our peers. We are likely to see ourselves immune as monks, let us say and yet, as monks, do every bit as poorly as those around them. Notwithstanding careful screening, years of preparation, highest motivation, good example, for this reason and for that it's always plausible they depart by way of being dispensed of what they solemnly promised. Granted we are not dealing with a sacrament. Granted there are no children involved. Granted it is all licit and provided for by law, it is still the end of a dream, a promise come to naught. We do seem called to more than a plausible life.

We witness here, therefore, the poverty of the human scene, our frailty, and how powerfully moved by the world we live in. Even those who live, as it were, separated from that world. Yet this world is more a world of spirit then a secular society, for there are trends and fashions and enthusiasms that move through the human psyche world-wide. Sweep through the human spirit in some mysterious way. What goes on here, goes on everywhere. What goes on everywhere, goes on here.

I hope there be no offense in my calling to mind personal history and my years with the Divine Word missionaries. They came to the USA one hundred years ago this October. They were not long on the scene when, as Christians, as missionaries, as foreigners, they were appalled at the condition of the black people. No priests among them. Worse than that, no black received in a Catholic school, in Catholic college or university, in no Catholic seminary. These foreigners found this situation shameful. And did something about it. Since no one else would, they opened a seminary for blacks, and by 1934 had 4 ordained, splendidly trained. One of the first 4 was Fr. Vincent Smith from nearby Lebanon. He later, in 1948, joined the monks here. The legend was that his heart was broken: white bishops, white priests, white people did not welcome a black priest. Dom James included him as Fr. Simon in the first group sent to the new foundation in New York, near Rochester, now Genesee Abbey. He died there.

The dream goes on. Christ dreamed of a Church, His Body, His Bride, one with Him, one with one another. Look at it. Split into countless fragments, dismembered and disorganized. What a pity. What a shame. And what a revelation.

In the face of which we watch our answer: we do not judge, we do not point fingers, we do not accuse. We have compassion and we have mercy. People do what they can with what they have. Granted that they blunder and falter, they often reveal human poverty and frailty more than anything else.

In the face of which we turn to Christ. If anyone is to condemn, let Him do it. For our part, we do what we can to break down walls, build love, span chasms of separation, and work to unite man to woman, father to children, all the flock to one Shepherd, all humankind to one another.

And despite the human mess, we do not lose hope. Nor do we take the easy route and point, find fault, condemn. We point the finger within to our own fickle heart. There we thank God we are hopefully still with Him, and ask Him to keep us so, and speak without end for all our brothers and sisters.

Notwithstanding all appearances, we are one. Christ makes it so.  Amen.