Homily for Ordinary Time 6
February 11, 2024
Beauty of A Well-Ordered Soul
There
was once a hard-charging executive from New York City who knew that her
stress-filled corporate life was destroying her, so she decided to go on a
week-long silent retreat at a convent of nuns. On the first day, she was struck
by the beauty of one particular nun who just had a radiant face, cleaner and
clearer and more luminous and attractive than anyone she had ever met. But, of
course, being a silent retreat, the executive had to only wonder and admire the
beauty from afar. Finally, though, when the retreat was over, the businesswoman
sought out this nun and had to ask her the secret. “Oh Sister, I couldn’t help
but noticing how beautiful you were!” she exclaimed. “Do you use special
creams, or take care of your face in a certain way?”
The nun
laughed with surprise and said, “Oh? I’m beautiful?”
The
woman was taken aback. “Of course you are! Why are you surprised?”
The nun
replied. “I haven’t looked at myself in a mirror for over twenty years. Any
time I enter a room with a mirror, I make a sacrifice and look away so that I
do not become vain about my appearance.”
It
wasn’t special creams or lotions that made this nun beautiful – it was the
beauty of her soul that radiated upon her countenance. A soul that is
well-ordered and overflowing with virtue will shine with exceptional beauty. I
think of the beautiful face of Mother Teresa, wrinkled and plain, yet her smile
and her eyes told of Christ’s presence in her soul. By contrast, a soul that is
filled with vice reflects upon their face as well – I think of some of the pop
stars and cultural icons of today, who while having access to the best beauty
products, have a hollowness in their eyes and almost a creepy look, as if they
were wearing a mask to hide their empty soul.
I am
reminded of this with today’s tragic readings, all about leprosy. Leprosy, now
called Hansen’s Disease, is a profoundly disfiguring disease of the skin, which
is now very easily treatable with medicines. But more disfiguring is a soul
that is overflowing with the seven diseases of the Seven Deadly Sins. These
sins afflict the human race in larger or smaller degree, disfiguring the Image
of Christ within. But the good news is that there is an antidote to each of
these disfiguring diseases!
The
first and most deadly of the Seven Deadly Vices is pride. Pride says
that we are the center of our own universe, that we get to determine right from
wrong, and that we do not need God. There are lots of symptoms of this disease.
Thinking we’re special – like when a perfectly healthy CEO of a Fortune 500
company would consistently park in handicapped spots because he thought that
the rules didn’t apply to him (this really happened). Talking about ourselves
all the time. Not praying, which means we think we don’t need God in our
everyday life.
The
medicine for this pride is humility. The challenge with humility is that
every time you think you’re becoming more humble, you just lost it! But as CS
Lewis said, “Humility isn’t thinking less of yourself, it’s thinking of
yourself…less.” Humility is recognizing that we are who we are before God, and
nothing more. Once someone complemented me on a homily, and I responded, “Oh,
thanks, but that was all God.” They replied, “If it was all God, it would’ve
been way better!” Ouch, but true – all that is good in us is from God, and as
Mother Teresa used to say, “We’re just a pencil in the Hand of God.”
A second
deadly sin is greed. Greed is an unhealthy desire for material wealth
and possessions. There was once two childhood friends who grew up and took
different paths: one man became fantastically wealthy, while the other man
remained poor but had a deep faith in God. Towards the end of their lives, they
met up again and reconnected, and after the meeting, the rich man seemed very
troubled. His wife asked him what was wrong, and he replied, “My friend is far
happier than I, for he is going to claim his treasure, while I will soon be
forced to leave mine behind!”
The
answer, of course, is generosity. Money spent on clothes or vacations
lasts for weeks or years, while money dedicated to the Lord reverberates into
eternity.
A third
disfiguring disease is wrath. There are times where anger is very
justified – I think of the American Revolution, or the anger we feel if someone
is hurting a family member. Anger itself is not a sin – but wrath is a
corrupted, perverse form of anger. Wrath is hatred and a desire for revenge.
The
antidote to wrath, according to St. Thomas Aquinas, is actually justice.
One would think that it would be peace, but justice leads to peace. Justice
means to give to everyone what we owe them: worship to God, obedience to
authorities, compassion to subordinates, care for the poor, respect and charity
to one another.
A fourth
disease is sloth. Unlike the cute animals that lie around in eucalyptus
trees, this kind of sloth is quite deadly – because it means being lethargic
and lazy in one’s spiritual life. It is marked by a lack of prayer,
unenthusiasm for Mass, no desire for the heights of holiness.
The
medicine for sloth, then, is zeal – stirring up in our hearts a passion
for the Lord. Consider His goodness, and the ultimate purpose of your life – to
be with Him forever. We need to exercise our desire for God like a muscle – and
soon it will grow and increase.
The
fifth disease is envy – being consumed with desire for what others have.
There is a fable about how the leaning tower of Pisa came to be. Pisa had built
a beautiful tower next to its church, and the nearby city of Lucca did the
same. But Lucca was envious of the beautiful tower in Pisa, so men snuck into
the city at night and dug beneath it to try to topple it. But it never fell,
only leaned – and has thus become a hundred times more famous and notable for
its tilt! That’s not the true story, of course, but it makes a powerful point.
The
antidote is the virtue of gratitude, whereby we are thankful for what we
have. Who cares what the neighbors down the street have? We have so many
blessings – let us be thankful for them.
The
sixth disease is lust, the misuse of God’s gift of sexuality. If someone
were to receive as a gift a beautiful and antique clock, and they use it as a
doorstop, it would be an insult to the giver who gave such a costly gift.
Likewise, if a person were to misuse the incredible gift of sexuality – using
it outside of marriage between a man and woman, open to life – then it is an
insult to the giver.
Lust is
countered by chastity, the proper use of our sexuality. With all of
God’s gifts, using them rightly respects our human dignity and keeps us from
being like the animals, who have no control over their bodily drives.
The
seventh disease is gluttony, indulging in too much food, wine, or sleep.
Again, we must use God’s gifts well through the virtue of temperance.
My
friends, sin grotesquely disfigures our soul. This is why, when we look at a
Crucifix, it should disgust us to see a man who is beaten, whipped, bruised,
swollen, blood oozing down His face. Christ wanted to give us a visual
demonstration of the ugliness of sin. But by contrast, virtue is beautiful and
radiant.
True
beauty, then, is not found in $1,700 worth of beauty products that the average
American buys annually – it is found in having a soul adorned with virtue,
where Christ lives within.
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