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Bishop Daniel Gutierrez, Diocese of Pennsylvania August 28, 2018/Nuevo Amanecer

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Es un gran honor estar aquí con mis hermanas y hermanos. Mi sangre, mi fe, mi familia. This week, your work, your prayers, this community will change the church. You are co-creators and collaborators with Jesus. The Kingdom is at hand.   One of my favorite authors is Alice Walker. One of her short stories is The Welcome Table. It tells of an elderly, nameless black woman, "the color of poor gray Georgian earth," worn down by old king cotton.  Dressed in tattered rags, she makes her way one Sunday morning "down the road toward the big white church," as the story says. A church that is pale in many ways. When she walks in, the good church folks are shocked.   The preacher reminds her pleasantly that this is not her church, "as if one could choose the wrong one." Maybe she is a bit confused and in the wrong place. She shakes her head and brushes past them all and finds a seat near the back. Inside it is very cold, colder than usual. The d
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Do we look like Jesus?

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As for me, I shall behold your face in righteousness; when I awake I shall be satisfied, beholding your likeness. Psalm 17:15 I pray you are covered with Christ as we journey through the Holy Season of Lent. I am struggling over the lingering question: Do our churches and faith look like Jesus? Can we say yes? I am not speaking of looking like Jesus architecturally or artistically (e.g. carved in stone, Tiffany stained glass, Jesus covered in gold or European Jesus).  I wrestle with something more profound. If someone walks through our door, will they find a place where they belong? Will the person wearing dirty clothes feel they belong? Will the immigrant who does not speak English or the single mother or father with three screaming kids? Maybe that guy who smells like alcohol and needs a shave. Anyone who does not look, think, act, or talk like us. This is a time of Lenten reflection, and we all like to believe we welcome everyone.We know that despite the smiles, and the quick wave,
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In the marketplace

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As in water face reflects face, so the heart of man reflects the man. Proverbs 27:19 There was a woman in the Old City in Jerusalem, and she was beautiful. Perhaps 83 years old, and her head was covered in the traditional Muslim shawl. She sat on ancient, wet stone steps selling vegetables. It was cold and raining, and I sensed she knew that few of those from those foreign lands would smile, nod their head or look at her. They were too busy rushing to take a selfie at Golgotha or eager to buy that unusual gift from Jerusalem.   She was an immigrant in her own land. One of the nameless, faceless Holy Land objects. But if those who walked by took time, they would notice that her face told a story of pain and joy, hope and loss, love and death. God's hand had painted a story of life on a weathered canvas made of flesh. I was struck by humanity's fragility and the spirit's resiliency.   In my March letter, I asked if our Churches "look like Jesus?' During the followin
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