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Homily for the Sixth Sunday in Ordinary Time
(Scriptures for today's Mass)
Audio for homily
It’s not even easy to
imagine a culture, a society,
in which the sick are
expected to go about
announcing themselves, publicly, as “unclean”
and to live outside the heart of the community,
and to live outside the heart of the community,
estranged from human
companionship.
Such a custom is abhorrent
in our eyes today and offensive.
At least as they were
practiced in ancient times.
But we’d need only to drop
into
just about any classroom, in any school,
just about any classroom, in any school,
and keep our eyes and ears
open for a while
to see the subtle ways in
which one group of students
treat another group of
students as “unclean.”
subtly or not so subtly,
relegating them, the other,
to a place outside the
companionship of the majority.
But not just in schools.
The same phenomenon is
found in our neighborhoods.
And in offices and factories. And within extended families.
And in the Church at
large. And in parishes. In this
parish.
And on the world scene,
how one people, even one faith
regards another as
“unclean.”
Although it’s often very
subtle, such discrimination makes itself plain
through gossip, in
whispered rumors and idle chatter.
Pope Francis constantly
speaks about the evil of gossip.
In his words:
“Gossip always has a criminal side to it.
There is no such thing as
innocent gossip.”
By definition we never
gossip about the good things we find in others,
we gossip about what we
think is “unclean.”
Such social discrimination
shapes the seating plans
in school cafeterias and
determines who’s on the
invitation list for adult social gatherings.
It divides working staffs
into working camps
defined by jealousy and
power struggles and prejudice.
It tears apart families and
divides blood relatives
on account of old hurts
and grudges and resentments.
It’s the painful wound of
impatience and bitterness and rivalry
in the side of the Church
and in individual parishes
where we publicly profess
to be one in Christ.
It’s the bigotry that
breeds hatred and war among peoples
of different races and
faiths.
We need look no further
than the gospel
to see what Jesus thinks
of such behavior.
His very person rendered
the leper, knowing himself as unclean,
rendered him unafraid to
approach Jesus.
Jesus stretches out his
hand and TOUCHES him,
touches the man who bears
the scab, the pustule, the blotch of leprosy.
And those standing by
would have then judged Jesus to be unclean
for having touched an
unclean man.
And yet it’s in the very
touching that the man is healed.
Then Jesus sends him to
the temple, to the priest –
a sure sign that the one
thought unclean is now healed, cleansed,
and to be welcomed back to
the heart of the community and its prayer.
If there’s a lesson for us
in the scriptures today it comes in two parts.
Part One: each of us needs
to recognize the manner
in which any and all of
us, even in subtle ways,
ostracize from our
company, from our companionship,
from our social circles
and, most importantly – from our hearts,
those whom we are called
to love.
Part Two: we need to
change our hearts, our minds, our behavior
such that those we’ve
excluded will sense in us a new welcome.
This may or may not mean
we need to forgive someone who has hurt us.
And we must reach out in
real ways, as did Jesus with the leper
and touch the lives of
others, engage the lives of others,
whom we’ve cut off from
our embrace.
As St. Paul wrote to us
today, we need to become imitators of Christ.
And in the heart of Jesus
there is no room at all for division or exclusion.
We hear these words at the
Lord’s Table,
gathered in the shadow of
his arms outstretched for us on
the Cross.
No one knows better than
the crucified Jesus
the ways in which we have
kept him from our company
when we have excluded him
by ignoring or excluding our neighbor.
No one knows better than
Jesus
what is or has been
unclean in my heart and yours.
And yet he loves us.
And yet he forgives
us.
And yet he invites us to
his table
to be nourished with his
life, his Body and Blood in the Eucharist.
Here he reaches out to you
and to me
and intimately touches us,
heals and cleanses us with
his grace,
as we consume him in Communion.
May we, indeed, become the
love and mercy we eat and drink.
(This song pairs well with today’s scriptures and
this homily.)
The Summons
Will you come and follow me
If I but call your name?
Will you go where you don’t know
And never be the same?
Will you let my love be shown,
Will you let my name be known,
Will you let my life be grown
In you and you in me?
Will you leave yourself behind
If I but call your name?
Will you care for cruel and kind
And never be the same?
Will you risk the hostile stare
Should your life attract or scare?
Will you let me answer prayer
In you and you in me?
Will you let the blinded see
If I but call your name?
Will you set the pris’ners free
And never be the same?
Will you kiss the leper clean,
And do such as this unseen,
And admit to what I mean
In you and you in me?
Will you love the ‘you’ you hide
If I but call your name?
Will you quell the fear inside
And never be the same?
Will you use the faith you’ve found
To reshape the world around,
Through my sight and touch and sound
In you and you in me?
Lord, your summons echoes true
When you but call my name.
Let me turn and follow you
And never be the same.
In your company I’ll go
Where your love and footsteps show.
Thus I’ll move and live and grow
In you and you in me.
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