You are on page 1of 5

Homily

Sixth Sunday in Ordinary Time B


February 14 15, 2015
READINGS:
LEV 13: 1 2, 44 46
1 COR 10: 31 11: 1
MK 1: 40 45

I come from a large family. I'm one of five living siblings, and I have a couple of dozen
cousins. And of course we all have our own children. Our family gatherings were always
noisy, crowded, busy affairs. When I got married, I added Karens family to my own.
Were spread all over the country, and dont see each other as much as we used to, but
we all stay connected. And beyond family, I have many years of experiences that
connect me to others.
Here, in our new parish home at Saint Michaels, weve already made good friends, and
continue to meet more every week.
Of course, were not the only ones who have family, friends, and community all around
us. Just about all of us can say something similar. We can all agree with the poet who
said, No man is an island.
With all these connections in our life, its probably hard almost impossible - for us to
imagine what life must be like for someone who has no one to share life with. Someone
like the leper we hear of in our reading from Leviticus or in our Gospel reading;
someone who is required by the community to live apart, to warn people of his
presence, so that they can avoid him.
I wonder how often the leper in today's Gospel had to say "Unclean, unclean, go away!"
How often had the leper seen children point at him and then scurry away? How often
had he seen mothers cover their faces and fathers scoop up their children whenever he
came into sight? How often had people looked at him in fear and crossed the road to
avoid him? How often had he heard someone cursing him under their breath? And how
often had those words and actions caused an ache in his soul- the pain of being
shunned and rejected?

And yet, without our noticing, were surrounded by lepers.

Bob Davis/ 03/07/15 / pg. 2

Some of them are ostracized by the community because of disease. Those with
HIV/AIDS or other illnesses like the Ebola virus that was so much in the news are, in
many ways, our modern lepers. So often, theyre discarded even by family members
who cannot, or will not, approach them. Whether through fear, or through distaste, or
disapproval of the lifestyle that, in their eyes, resulted in the illness, people build walls to
separate themselves from those who suffer from such diseases.
But theyre not the only lepers we avoid.
What about the elderly in our lives who arent as fortunate as we, who have this
community? As their lives draw to a close, they often find themselves alone, either at
home or in some health care facility. They wait patiently for an email, or a phone call, or
a note, or a visit.
Sometimes one comes. Often none comes.
If they struggle with Alzheimers, they may not even know or remember us. Its all too
easy for that to become an excuse to avoid them, leaving them to sit in their utter
aloneness.
We stay away, uncomfortable, perhaps, around someone who reminds us of our own
frailty. When we do visit, were not always sure what to say, and we might find ourselves
looking at our watches, wondering when we can leave. I remember how very difficult it
was for me during my mothers struggle with it. I dreaded those visits.
What about those who suffer from an addiction to drugs, or alcohol? What about those
who suffer from mental illness? How do we cope with them? Do we judge them
according our own circumstances, or do we say, as Saint Paul did, There but for the
grace of God go I? After all, we know its their own fault. Or is it?
What of the homeless, whom we cross the street to avoid, or look away from as they
gaze imploringly at us as we hurry by? How do we feel when they say something like,
have a good day even though weve given them nothing to make theirs better?

Bob Davis/ 03/07/15 / pg. 3

In Old Testament times, it was the priests who were responsible for identifying those
who were unclean, and people avoided them so scrupulously that they would be forced
to live in caves outside towns. People, usually relatives of the unclean, would leave food
often spoiled or stale or discarded clothing at the edge of these areas, and it would
be shared by the outcasts. This was their life, until they could go back to the priests to
be declared clean again. For some, this was a real hope. For most, it was a longed-for
impossibility. For them, there was no hope.
Today, were always seeing the human interest story on the news, telling us about the
person who gives so much of their time and resources for the victim of AIDS or Ebola,
or the mentally ill, or the homeless, and it makes us feel good, doesnt it? It also lets us
off the hook. If someone else does it, then we dont have to.
In the Church, we especially honor those who live their lives this way. We know about
some of them.
The late John Cardinal OConnor of New York often spent hours quietly feeding and
bathing victims of AIDS. No one even knew he was doing it.
Dorothy Day and Peter Maurin, co-founders of the Catholic Worker Movement, provided
hope for the hopeless in cities around the United States. That work still goes on.
Blessed Mother Teresa of Calcutta gave her entire life to feeding, bathing loving the
dying destitute, first in India, then around the world, giving them comfort in their last
hours. She surrounded herself with others who continue to follow her example as
members of the Missionaries of Charity.
Father Benedict Groeschel, a co-founder of the Franciscan Friars of the Renewal, spent
much of his time working with the poor in New York City, quietly living his Franciscan
charism.
But these people, after all, were special! Sure, they could emulate Christ, who reached
out and touched the leper, who risked being called unclean himself for his compassion.
They were special. They were holy. They were touched by God. They were given the
grace to be heroic in their Christianity. Can we be like them?
Yes, we can. We can, in the words of St. Francis, be instruments of His peace.

Bob Davis/ 03/07/15 / pg. 4

We, too, are given that grace. Grace is there for all of us.
Its up to us to respond to Gods gift, to give to others the compassion God gives to us in
caring for us.
Maybe, just maybe, we can do our small part in sharing Gods grace with others, if were
first willing to allow Gods grace to touch our own souls.
Because most certainly, just as there are modern lepers all around us that we try to
avoid, there is also a bit of the leper in each of us. Theres some uncleanness, some
blotch, that marks us as sinners. Something that separates us from God and His
Church.
God cares for us, and takes care of us, in spite of the uncleanness, the sin, in our own
lives. God offers us healing in spite of our unworthiness. Even as we continue to turn
away from Him into our own cave of sin, God reaches out to us, touching us just as
Christ touched the leper.
We, each of us, has some area of our life that calls out, unclean. It may be very secret,
and unknown to anyone but us and God. Or it may be all too public, affecting our
relationships with those we love. We may want to pretend its not there, to rationalize it
away, but we still know. Were all too aware of the damage it does to us, to our
relationships with others and with God.
Like the leper in the first reading, we can choose to dwell apart, to hide in that cave. Or
we can choose another path.
We can be like the leper in the Gospel, and can turn to Christ for healing. In the
sacrament of reconciliation, we can present ourselves to him in our uncleanness and
say, If you wish, you can make me clean.
We can present our sinful selves to Christ, through the priest, and say, I am unclean.
Help me to be clean again.
And just as he did then, he will respond to us, I do will it. Be made clean.

Bob Davis/ 03/07/15 / pg. 5

And the priest will say, Through the ministry of the Church may God give you pardon
and peace, and I absolve you from your sins in the name of the Father, and of the Son
and of the Holy Spirit.
And then we, outcasts made clean by Christs love and grace and compassion, will
perhaps be better able to share, in some small way, that love and grace and
compassion with the outcasts who reach out to us.

You might also like