Homily
for October 25, 2020
Thirtieth
Sunday of Ordinary Time
Solidarity
For the most part I enjoy living in
Stamford, but there is one thing that drives me crazy: the way in which
pedestrians cross the street in this city. You’ve seen it too – people cross
whenever, wherever, totally unconcerned about the fact that they just caused a
four-car pileup on Washington Boulevard. It’s not like this in any other city
I’ve ever been in – I’d be driving along, minding my own business, and from out
of nowhere some guy just waltzes into traffic, and I’m forced to slam on the
brakes and lay on the horn, usually with a shout of, “Yo! Dude! What do you
think you’re doing?!? You can’t cross here!” And then they just look at you
with an apathetic shrug and continue on their merry way.
I suppose the reason why pedestrians
crossing at the wrong time or in the wrong place drives me so insane is that
it’s a perfect example of individualism.
Individualism – the belief that the
three most important people in the world are me, myself, and I – is very much a
characteristic of our modern culture. People are told, “Look out for Number
One.” We tell kids from the time they’re young that “You’re special” – which
often makes them believe it! We often believe that laws and rules apply to
everyone except ourselves; sometimes we think the world revolves around our
needs, our issues, our desires.
But individualism goes against an
important principle of Catholic Social Teaching called Solidarity. The
Church has always taught that we ARE our brother’s keeper. We are not supposed
to keep to ourselves, look out for our own business, and to heck with everyone
else. Rather, as our first reading instructs us, we are to look after the
widow, the orphan, the poor, the disabled, the unborn, the immigrant.
Recently, Pope Francis issued an
encyclical letter on solidarity, called “Fratelli Tutti” (meaning “All
Brothers”). In it, he laments: “We have become accustomed to looking the other
way, passing by, ignoring situations until they affect us directly.” But then
he gives the solution: “Only a gaze transformed by charity can enable the
dignity of others to be recognized.” The virtue of charity – to love as God
loves – requires us to see others as God sees them, as brothers and sisters and
not just random individuals to whom we have no responsibilities.
The saints understood this deeply. I
am reminded of the story of St. Elizabeth of Hungary, who was married to King
Louis in the 1220s. Soon after their marriage, Elizabeth heard the preaching of
some Franciscan friars, who convinced her that her wealth in the royal castle
was not for her to enjoy, but for her to serve others. She began to give away
the fine silverware, tapestries and curtains, and gold and silver to the poor,
using much of it to endow hospitals and schools. Her husband was none too
pleased to find his stuff go missing, so one day he approached her when she was
out making her daily rounds with her cloak full of bread from the royal
kitchen. When her husband demanded that she show him the bread she had taken
from the castle, she opened her cloak and roses fell out instead of bread. Her
husband was shocked because of this miracle and from that time on allowed her
to perform any charitable work she wished. But another time, she brought home a
man with leprosy and laid him in her own bed. When a servant told the king this,
he was disgusted and stormed into the room. Pulling back the sheets, he was
amazed that instead of a leper laying there, he saw the figure of Christ
crucified lying there. Once again, he recognized his wife’s holiness and
allowed her to continue her good works. After his untimely death, she dedicated
the remainder of her life to prayer and works of charity. She established a
hospital and would spend her days cleaning sores, bathing patients, and feeding
them. Imagine if the chairman of the board of a hospital, or the hospital
president, would spend time doing that!
St. Elizabeth could have made every
excuse to stay in the palace, far removed from the problems of the poor. But,
motivated by love for Christ, she rejected such insulation and actively sought
out those who needed her kindness and compassion.
This should be the attitude of every
Christian. It’s not enough to stay insulated in our nice homes in North
Stamford or Greenwich and say, “Oh, well, those problems in the inner-city
don’t impact me.” We are our brother’s keeper – solidarity must be a part of
every Christian’s life.
So how do we do that, practically? A
few suggestions. One can certainly donate to Catholic Charities, or volunteer
at the New Covenant Center here in town (which runs a homeless shelter and soup
kitchen). Perhaps you can mentor young men and women who need a role model. The
holidays are coming up – perhaps you can invite over for Thanksgiving dinner that
elderly neighbor who has no family nearby. Maybe it’s as simple as getting
to know your neighbors – do you know them? Bake some cookies and go meet
your neighbors! Or one could write thank-you cards for those who cut your grass
or collect your trash. Maybe for you solidarity would mean calling that
relative that you haven’t spoken with in years, and reestablishing a
relationship with them.
The whole point of solidarity is to
get outside of ourselves, our worlds, and love our neighbor, motivated by love
for God. As Jesus says, the whole law and prophets are summed up in these two
commands. Indeed, the whole of our Catholic Faith can be summed up in them as
well: love of God, and love of neighbor.
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