Sunday, June 27, 2021

Jesus' power breaks all barriers

 Homily: 13th Sunday in Ordinary Time – Cycle B

         Friends, today’s Scriptures are a continuation of the theme from last week.  Namely: the question of whether Jesus is with us in the storms of our lives and whether he cares for us.  Last week, we watched as the disciples of Jesus prepared the boats to cross the Sea of Galilee at night, in spite of the known danger that a storm might come upon them unexpectedly in the darkness.  We watched as the feared storm did appear and was so violent that even these experienced sailors feared that the boats (and their lives) would be lost.  We saw how Jesus remained sleeping, even as the boat was being tossed violently by the wind and waves, and how the disciples cried out in desperation, “Teacher, do you not care that we are perishing?”  Finally, we saw how Jesus awoke, rebuked the storm and the sea to demonstrate his power, and then rebuked the disciples for their lack of faith.

         Having heard all of this, I reflected back on the beginning of the coronavirus pandemic—on how we all felt like a violent storm had come upon us suddenly in the night—and on how Pope Francis (citing that Gospel passage) invited us to recognize that Jesus was there with us in the boat in the middle of the storm.  I did this to remind us that, even as we emerge from the pandemic here in the United States, the storms of our lives will not end and that we are not any less in need of Jesus (that is, of greater faith in him) now than at the beginning of the pandemic.  Thus, I urged those who heard my homily to resolve to seek a “new normal” in which we give witness to God’s abiding and saving presence with us through the storms that will continue to afflict us.

         This week, we have these two wonderful stories of healing that further the theme of God’s abiding and saving presence with us through the storms of our lives.  These stories also highlight a number of other revelations of God and of how he cares for us.

         In the first story, Jairus, an official of the synagogue, comes in great humility to ask Jesus’ help to heal his daughter who is sick and appears to be in danger of dying.  A storm has entered Jairus’ life and he turns to Jesus, whom he does not yet acknowledge as the Son of God, but rather as a renowned healer, and begs him to “rebuke this storm” and restore calm and peace into his life.  We don’t know what Jesus’ plans were that day, but he nonetheless interrupts them to go with Jairus.  This, you might think, would be expected.  Officials in the synagogue were important members of the Jewish community and so Jesus, an observant Jew and a respecter of Jewish tradition, would certainly respond with urgency to help this person of prominence in the community; and so he does.

         As they go (followed by the crowd of disciples and curious observers that had gathered to see Jesus and hear him teach), a woman who has been afflicted with a hemorrhage for twelve years—someone who, therefore, has been ritually “impure” and thus unable to participate fully in the life of the community, especially worship—presses through the crowd in the hope of simply touching Jesus’ clothes: believing that, in doing so, the power that was in him would heal her.  She was too embarrassed to approach him directly and ask for healing, but she nonetheless approached him because she believed in his power to save.  She had been in this storm for twelve years.  Having sought all human means for calming/weathering the storm, she now turns to one renowned for possessing divine power with faith that he can “rebuke this storm” and restore her life.

         As we know, her faith was rewarded: once she touched Jesus’ clothes, her hemorrhage stopped and she was healed.  Jesus, having felt this power go out from him, stops and seeks to know to whom this power of healing was given.  He refuses to go any further until he knows and addresses the person who he has healed.  Once she presents herself and he discovers that she was a woman of lowly estate—a woman living on the margins of society for the last twelve years because of her infirmity—he does not dismiss her and return in haste on his path to the house of the important synagogue official, but rather he spends time to listen to her story.  He commends her faith and confirms her healing so as to reunite her to the life of the worshiping community.  It is a beautifully tender moment made all the more powerful by the fact that, as a woman (and as a woman of lowly estate), Jesus nonetheless chose to address her: something that a man in Jewish society would not have done in public.

         This is where the masterful interweaving of these stories becomes important.  We remember now that Jairus knows that his daughter’s minutes are numbered and that there was no time to waste.  Having Jesus agree to come immediately, he felt great hope that his daughter might still be saved from death.  But then Jesus stops to investigate this “surprise” healing.  Suddenly, Jairus’ anxiety returns ten-fold.  I imagine that he begins to look at Jesus with impatience, so as to say “Teacher, do you not care that my daughter is perishing? Why are you spending time talking to this woman?”  The anxiety, I’m sure, would have been palpable among those in the crowd.  Nonetheless, Jesus gives the newly healed woman the time to tell her story so that she might be fully restored.

         The delay, as we know from the story, means that Jairus’ daughter dies before Jesus arrives.  Now all those who were in the house—many of whom, I’m sure, encouraged Jairus to have faith and to go to Jesus—now tell Jesus to “go away”: the girl has died, so there’s nothing more that can be done.  Their faith was only in Jesus’ power to heal.  Jesus rebuked their small faith, however, and stepped into the home to show that he is more than a healer:  but rather that he is, in fact, “the resurrection and the life”.

         Friends, in these two stories we encounter once again the call to trust in God’s abiding and saving presence in our lives.  We also see that it does not matter whether we are someone of social status: God addresses each of us personally and intentionally because we are all equal in his eyes.  Finally, we see that God’s power truly has no limits: that even death—the separation of soul from body—is not something beyond God’s power to control.  Having seen these things—and having experienced these things in our own lives as Christians—we are called once again to give witness to them in our lives.  We are called to create a “new normal” of radical openness to others in which our brothers and sisters around us are welcomed and led to an encounter with Jesus who will rebuke the storms in their lives and restore peace: the peace of knowing that his abiding and saving presence is always with them.  On this Lord’s day, let us ask the Holy Spirit to show us one way that we can make this “new normal” a reality during the next week.

         As we approach this altar of thanksgiving today, let us call to mind the healings that God has worked in our lives so as to unite them to the offering that we will present to God.  And as we receive life himself from this altar, may it strengthen us to be witnesses of his power and love to those around us.

Given at Saint Louis de Montfort Parish: Fishers, IN – June 27th, 2021

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