Homily - 10 September 2006

Jesus “looked up to heaven and groaned, and said to [the deaf man], ‘Ephphatha’” (Mark 7:34). Why does Jesus groan as he looks up to heaven? This is not the first time he has done something like this. When he arrived after the death of his friend Lazarus, “at the sight of [Mary’s] tears, and those of the Jews who followed her, Jesus said in great distress, with a sigh that came straight from the heart, ‘Where have you put him?’” (John 11:33 [Jerusalem Bible]).

In the encounter with the deaf man and the encounter with the weeping women, Jesus experienced the pain of the human heart; he knew the agony of loss and the misery of suffering. Standing before the effects of sin, Jesus’ love for his suffering people is clearly revealed and made known, a love that goes all the way to the Cross. This is why the people brought the deaf man to him and “begged him to lay his hand on him” (Mark 7:32). They had already seen the power of Jesus’ love heal others who were sick and even raise the dead. Now they wanted this tender healing touch of love to restore this man, too.

Have you ever looked at miracle accounts in the Gospels and wondered why Jesus healed those specific people? There seems to be nothing especially significant about these people, at least not by human standards. When healing his people, Jesus often said such things to them as, “Daughter, your faith has saved you; go in peace” (Luke 8:48) and, “O woman, great is your faith! Let it be done for you as you wish” (Matthew 15:28). Just as it was then, so it is now.

Jesus looks upon us to see our faith. In the eyes of Jesus it is not our social standing that matters; it is not our wealth that matters; it is not our education that matters; it is not the clothes we wear that matters; it is not our lake house that matters or our vacation home; it is not our athletic ability that matters; what matters is faith. Faith is always to be our highest priority, our deepest focus; faith is to drive every aspect of our life. This is why the first Bishop of Jerusalem instructs us to “show no partiality as you adhere to the faith in our glorious Lord Jesus Christ” (James 2:1).

The spiritual father of Saint Anthony of Padua, Saint Francis of Assisi, was fond of this saying and repeated it often: “What a man is in the eyes of God, that he is and nothing more.” When we truly begin to consider this statement and to reflect upon it in prayer a much larger world and a clearer vision opens up before us because then we will recognize the presence of Christ shining through each person around us calling out for encouragement, for support, for love.

This saying is visibly shown in the funeral rites of the Church. When the body of the deceased is brought into the church for the last time, the funeral pall – the white garment – is draped over the casket. It symbolizes two things: the white garment we received at baptism when we were “clothed in Christ”; and that in the eyes of God we are all equal. Each deceased person of whatever rank or status looks the same at death and wears the same clothes. What a man is in the eyes of God, that he is and nothing more.

Through the waters of Baptism each of us is united to Christ Jesus and becomes a member of his Body, the Church. As such, we are united not only to Christ, but to each other as well. We are one in Jesus Christ because we are his body, his mystical body. When we show partiality to those among us and around us, we neglect Christ Jesus because as he himself says, “whatever you did for these least brothers of mine, you did for me” (Matthew 25:40). How does this happen? How do we become one and how do we serve Christ?

Jesus tells us that the second greatest commandment is this: “You shall love your neighbor as yourself” (Matthew 22:39). Pope Benedict XVI reminds us “anyone who needs me, and whom I can help, is my neighbor” (Deus caritas est, 15). Reflecting further upon this, the Vicar of Christ says:

Love of neighbor is thus shown to be possible in the way proclaimed by the Bible, by Jesus. It consists in the very fact that, in God and with God, I love even the person whom I do not like or even know. This can only take place on the basis of an intimate encounter with God, an encounter which has become a communion of will, even affecting my feelings. Then I learn to look on this other person not simply with my eyes and my feelings, but from the perspective of Jesus Christ. His friend is my friend. Going beyond exterior appearances, I perceive in others an interior desire for a sign of love, of concern. This I can offer them … Seeing with the eyes of Christ, I can give to others much more than their outward necessities; I can give them the look of love which they crave (Deus caritas est, 18).

From where does this look of love come? It comes from Christ Jesus and from faith in his love for me. Believing and knowing that Jesus loves me I can share his love with everyone.

Have you experienced the love of Christ? Have you opened your heart to him and invited him to dwell within you? He will not force his way in; he awaits the humble invitation. In the end, it becomes a question of love. Do I want to know the power of the love of Jesus Christ? Will I allow myself to be overcome with love? Will I allow myself to be vulnerable so that I might love? Will I allow myself to love with reckless abandon as Jesus loves?

In order for this love to flow, we must be in relationship with Christ.

If I have no contact whatsoever with God in my life, then I cannot see in the other anything more than the other, and I am incapable of seeing in him the image of God. But if in my life I fail completely to heed others, solely out of a desire to be “devout” and to perform my “religious duties”, then my relationship with God will also grow arid. It becomes merely “proper”, but loveless. Only in my readiness to encounter my neighbor and to show him love makes me sensitive to God as well. Only if I serve my neighbor can my eyes be opened to what God does for me and how much he loves me. The saints – consider the example of Blessed Teresa of Calcutta – constantly renewed their capacity for love of neighbor from their encounter with the Eucharistic Lord, and conversely this encounter acquired its real –ism and depth in their service to others. Love of God and love of neighbor are thus inseparable, they form a single commandment. But both live from the love of God who has loved us first … Love grows through love. Love is “divine” because it comes from God and unites us to God; through this unifying process it makes us a "we” which transcends our divisions and makes us one, until in the end God is “all in all” [I Corinthians 15:28] (Deus caritas est, 18).