Homily for Ordinary Time 15
July 10, 2022
The Greatest Epidemic
Mother
Teresa was once taken on a tour of a nursing home in America. The nursing home
director was telling her all about the state-of-the-art facility: round-the-clock
skilled nursing care, good food, TVs in every room, plenty of comfort. But the
saint noticed that no one was smiling and that they were all looking toward the
door. She asked the director why everyone was staring at the door, and the
director sadly responded that they were all waiting for a visit from family or
friends, but only rarely did anyone come to visit them.
From
this experience, Mother Teresa concluded that there was a poverty in America
that was worse than the poverty in Calcutta. She said, “The greatest poverty is
loneliness, the feeling of being unwanted.” In Calcutta, people were starving –
but they knew how to share what little they had, and this love brought them joy.
Here in America, we have everything – and so often are miserable because we do
not have the meaningful connections that make life worthwhile.
A recent
study found that 61% of Americans are lonely. There is a yearning in every
human heart for connection. We are created for relationships, because we are
made in the image of God Who is Trinity – Father, Son, and Holy Spirit is the
original community of life and love, and since we are made in His image, we too
desire to be part of a community of life and love. Thus, we recognize that
something is deeply wrong when we are isolated, lonely, unloved. As Pope St.
John Paul II said, “The only proper response to another human being is love.”
As we reflect
on this parable of the Good Samaritan, it strikes me that in our country we do
not see people beat up by the side of the road. We don’t see people literally
starving in the streets. We have enough soup kitchens and homeless shelters and
government programs and charities to help most people live decent lives. Yes,
we should continue to contribute to charities that help the poor, but most of
us do not have a daily encounter with people who are lacking material goods.
But the
poverty we encounter daily is the poverty of loneliness. Perhaps our
grandparents, who are isolated in a nursing home…perhaps a kid at school who always
sits alone…perhaps a neighbor who has no family left. This is the needy person
that we encounter daily.
And the
choice of how to respond to such a poverty is up to us. If I were to rewrite this
parable for our modern world, it would go something like this: a person got
beat up, not by robbers, but by life…perhaps they were the victim of online
cyberbullying, or maybe their kids moved away from home and have ignored them.
And so, they sat there by the side of the road, lonely and hurting. A person
passed by, but was too distracted looking at their smartphone to notice.
Another person passed by, but they were so busy working eighty hours a week and
driving their kids to soccer practice that they couldn’t take time to help.
Finally, a Christian, a true believer in Christ, noticed this person who had
been forgotten by the rest of the world. They stopped, and got to know the
other person’s name, and invited them out for coffee – nothing earth-shattering,
but it broke through the loneliness and isolation. The person began to get well
simply by meaningful human connection.
I
challenge us all to look around in our own life and see who could use a card, a
phone call, an invitation over. Is it your grandma? Your neighbor? Your
classmate? That person that you see sitting all by themselves in the pew in front
of you?
Once, a
pair of Mother Teresa’s Missionaries of Charity went to visit a very poor man
up in the mountains of Australia. When they came to his house, they were noticed
a beautiful lamp sitting in the living room, covered in dust. The lamp was all
dark – no light came from it. The nuns asked the man why he didn’t light the
lamp, and he said, “I never get any visitors. I have no reason to light the
lamp.” The nuns said, “If we visit you every week, will you light the lamp for
us?” The man agreed, and he began to light the lamp…and through these visits, he
himself became changed. He began to go out to visit his neighbors and
return to church. Years later, long after the nuns had stopped visiting him, he
wrote a letter to Mother Teresa and told her, “The lamp that your sisters had
lit in my life continues to shine.”
We have very
little chance, on a daily basis, to encounter a man beaten by robbers. But almost
every day we encounter someone who suffers from the epidemic of loneliness –
and the cure doesn’t cost us even two gold coins – just a little time and love.
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