July 2025

Stories Seldom Heard

312^th Edition – July 2025

Psalm 112: "A Righteousness That Can Never Change"

Welcome to Stories Seldom Heard. I just participated in, via live stream, the funerals of Melissa and Mark Hortman. Their funeral Mass was celebrated in the Basilica of St Mary in Minneapolis. As we know, they were the victims of a political assassination in Minnesota on June 14^th. Melissa served as the 61^st Speaker of the Minnesota House of Representatives. The violence of their death continues to haunt me. I’m sure you too have reflected on the meaning of their lives and deaths, as well as the increasing violence in our neighborhoods and nation.

As a result of praying with those in the Basilica this morning and listening to the eulogies, I have chosen Psalm 112 for this month’s reflection. Psalm 112 is a psalm of praise that celebrates those who live in right relationships with all creation. Even though this reflection was inspired by Melissa and Mark’s lives, Psalm 112 is speaking to all of us. “Happy are they who fear God by joyfully keeping God’s commandments! Their righteousness can never change…. For the upright they shine like a lamp in the dark, they are merciful, tenderhearted, virtuous.” To be sure we do not miss the importance of living just and compassionate lives, the psalmist repeats the sentence. “Their righteousness can never change, people such as these will always be honored.”

We Catholics don’t usually use the words “righteous” or “righteousness.” We tend to shy away from those words because we often associate them with an attitude of being self-righteous, judgmental and closed minded, but that’s not what the Hebrew word implies.

In fact, we don’t have a word in our English language that is an exact translation of the Hebrew word for righteousness. Even the Hebrew word has multiple meanings, depending on the context of the sentence. But if we listen to the psalmist carefully, the psalmist does a good job of teasing out the meaning for us. According to the psalmist, a righteous person is merciful, tender-hearted, steadfast, honest, quick to be generous, constant in their love of God and love of neighbor. In other words, a person who is just, compassionate and quick to respond to the needs of others. Those words not only describe the virtues that the righteous person exhibits, but they also name the virtues we strive to live by.

If we were to run our fingers over a map of the world, we would find small and large plaques, markers, and statues that identify righteous compassionate people in villages, churches, sacred places and city squares. People who were lights in the darkness of their times.

Recently friends of mine were surprised when they were visiting Sarajevo in Bosnia. In the Central Square there is a huge bronze statue of a cellist, Vedron Smailavic who played in the Sarajevo Orchestra. During the World War II he didn’t know what to do to resist the violence of the war and the slaughter of innocent people, especially the children and elderly. He did the only thing he knew how to do. He took his cello and, dressed formally in black opera attire, went to the Central Square of the city and began playing the “Adagio.” There in the Square in the midst of serious shelling where people lined up waiting in a bread line where many of their family members had died, Vedron began his non-violent resistance. Vedron played his cello for twenty-two days. As he played other musicians joined him in the Square. For twenty-two days music echoed through the streets of the city.

It’s hard to imagine what moved Vedron and the other musicians to be willing to risk their lives. Today the statue stands not only as a reminder of the power of one person’s decision to be righteous, but also of his courage: a courage that grew out of Vedron’s sincere commitment to his Muslim practices of nonviolence, reverence for creation and his trust in God.

We see that same courage and compassion in our world today. People who risk their lives for others. Often for people whose names they don’t know. Think of those international aid groups that leave their homelands to serve food and medicine in rural areas and desperate countries. Think of our fire fighters here at home who risk their lives for neighbors they will never know. Think of those who speak unwelcomed truths with civility in political discourse. Of course, there are always many factors that have to be considered. Many issues have to be weighed and examined in each of their lives. But don’t you wonder what enables people to make those choices?

I was curious about this question, so I did some research. I did not do a doctoral study, but the articles I read surprised me. I was hoping that the data would show that it was religious people who took the biggest risks. I was hoping and expecting the facts would show that it was people of faith: people who went to church, attended synagogue and mosques on a regular basis. I expected that they would be the ones who would stand up against inhuman and unjust suffering. But the facts didn’t show that. Instead, I found that even though many religious people do risk their lives for others, the common characteristic of those who were willing to risk their lives was not a person’s religious persuasion. Rather the characteristic they had in common was compassion.

Those who could feel the pain of another, those who could sympathize with another person; they were the women and men who had the courage to risk their lives. To use the words of the psalmist, “They are the ones who leave an imperishable memory behind them.” There was also another part of the study. This part seemed a little unfair to me, but the study indicated that some people are just born with more compassion genes. But don’t worry; all is not lost. According to the study and the psalmist, we can make choices that will increase our compassion. But these choices require us to take ourselves out of the center of the universe. They require us to step into another person’s shoes. It means seeing the world through another person’s eyes. Compassion is a slow-growing virtue. It takes a life-time of practice. It shows up especially at critical moments in our lives.

There’s a story about Bernhard Häring during World War II. As you know he is well-known theologian and a spiritual leader. During the war, he was part of the resistance movement. He was a medic and because he had helped someone who had been injured, he found himself behind enemy lines. In the distance across a field, he saw a light coming from a farmhouse. Alone, desperate and exhausted he cautiously crossed the field, approached the door and knocked. A German woman opened the door. Technically they were enemies. He asked her for some water. She reluctantly let him into her home. She gave him some food and something to drink. Then she assured him he would be safe for the night. Before he left in the morning, she said to Bernhard, “I just hope that someone would do the same for my son who is in the German Army if he were in need.”

Compassion and righteousness walk hand in hand. They don’t begin with giant steps. They begin with believing we are all connected. They begin with every day choices. The psalmist says, “Blessed are they who love God. Their virtue will keep them safe. They are steadfast, constant in their convictions, and their trust and confidence in God will never waver.” But notice. The psalmist doesn’t say they will not suffer. If our compassion and righteousness are made real, made flesh, incarnate suffering will be part of it. It was for the Sarajevo Orchestra and the woman who opened the door to Bernhard and gave him safe shelter for the night. She literally risked her life for him.

I wonder if it was that sacramental moment, when her compassion and righteousness met his human need, that caused Häring years later to write these words “It is only with the eyes of love that we can see clearly.” There are sacramental moments in our lives when love meets the human condition and leaves an indelible mark on our hearts that can never be forgotten. Sad to say, Melissa and Mark Hortman have offered their lives for us and our democracy.

Our nation and world are in turmoil and our church is adjusting to new leadership. Or perhaps it is more accurate to say, we are adjusting to the new ways the Holy Spirit is renewing us. Pope Leo XIV has indicated that he will strengthen the leanings of his predecessor Pope Leo XIII who wrote Rerum Novarum which laid much of the groundwork for the Second Vatican Council document Gaudium et Spes. Bernhard Haring was one of the chief architects on the commission which prepared this document. For those of us who have a long memory, we probably still remember the beginning words of Gaudium et Spes.

The joys and the hopes, the griefs and the anxieties of

the people of this age, especially those who are poor or

in any way afflicted, these are the joys and hopes, the

griefs and anxieties of the followers of Christ.

Indeed, nothing genuinely human fails to raise an echo

in our hearts. For ours is a community composed of

women and men, united in Christ and led by the Holy

Spirit on our journey.

Psalm 112 encourages us to examine our lives and to pray for one another that we might continue to be those whose “righteousness can never change.”

Below are some of the main ideas of Psalm 112. Happy are they who fear (love) God by joyfully keeping God’s commandments!

Their righteousness can never change.
They are merciful, tenderhearted and virtuous.
With constant hearts, they have confidence in God.
For the upright they shine like a lamp in the dark.
They leave an imperishable memory behind them.

"Stories Seldom Heard" is a monthly article written by Sister Patricia Bruno, O.P. Sister is a Dominican Sister of San Rafael, California. This service is offered to the Christian community to enrich one's personal and spiritual life. The articles can be used for individual or group reflection. If you would like "Stories Seldom Heard" sent to a friend, please send a note to Sister Patricia at brunoop2017@gmail.com.

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