Welcoming the Leper in Ourselves and Others

Dear Friends,

Today’s Scriptural readings are about lepers. In Leviticus, the leper was quarantined not for the individual’s sake but that the purity of the community be preserved at all costs, even at the cost of excluding the leper from the love and support of family and friends. We can contrast the legalism of Leviticus with the human drama of the Gospel. Jesus, whose reputation must have been far reaching and great, inspired the unclean person to come to him and say:

                                            If you will to do so, you can make me clean.

The leper knew what he himself could do and what he was not permitted to do. Yet he stepped out of his required role to approach Jesus. Jesus, we read, was touched – not superficially – but in his innermost parts. Jesus touched this man whom society declared untouchable. He offered inclusion and healing in contrast to the community that offered only exclusion and condemnation.

The importance of what Jesus did becomes clear to us at the end of the story, where Jesus, in effect, trades places with the leper. Jesus, because of his compassion, was not able to show himself in any town He was ostracized – unwelcome as any leper would be.

As in the Book of Leviticus, people in our times also divide the world into the clean and unclean, the pure and the impure, the included and the excluded. That’s the stuff of the insurrection at the Capitol on January 6; the stuff of family break-ups; of class struggles. Today’s lepers are any and all people who experience discrimination, alienation, prejudice and rejection.

Is there a leper in you and in me? Is there a part of ourselves we consider untouchable, unclean? A part of me that the rest of me avoids? Is there something in my heart that I don’t want to look at – fear, shame, humiliation, an unwillingness to forgive myself, painful or scarring memories?

How easy it is to slump down in some private dump and feel the situation is hopeless. We can brood over our inadequacies and failings, allow ourselves to fall before the demons of discouragement or we can allow Jesus to get close enough to the leper in me to say:

                                            Of course, I want to heal you.

The significant thing about the leper in the Gospel is that he dared to hope. Because of that hope, he got up and did something in pursuit of the seemingly impossible.

Wednesday, we begin Lent, and each of us has a decision to make. Will it be a season ignored or half-attended to or will it be a time to face the leper in us as individuals, group or nation?

If we try, Lent can be for us a time of courage – a time to come before Jesus and say:

                                            If you will to do so, you can make me clean.

Let him be our guide this Lent as we try to welcome the leper and others in ourselves. Then Easter can be unlike any other we have known.

~Sister Joan Sobala

Remembering God is With Us

Dear Friends,

The first reading today is from the Book of Job. Job must have been composed in January or February when our world is bleak! His words find an echo in our own lives…depression, hopelessness, helplessness.

For a person who has lost a loved one or who has experienced the breakup of a relationship or who is out of work or has felt the pressure of being cooped up – anyone in these circumstances can understand Job when he says, “The long night drags on, I am filled with restlessness.”

Job has lost all. His lament was not so much that his possessions and children were gone, as that their passing made no sense. He had done nothing to warrant this suffering. He was a good person, yet he was suffering apparently unjustly and unfairly.

In the Gospel so much is said in so few words that it is tempting to think that Jesus has a simple answer for everything. He touches people, they are cured. Their problems are solved. Did Jesus have the instant cure for everything? No. Jesus was, at times, almost overwhelmed at the pain and suffering he saw.

The question won’t leave us alone. Why? Why pain and suffering, especially when it happens to good people like Job, who are innocent and faithful. It almost seems as though God is powerless. Why? Why? Maybe the closest we can come to an answer is a story I’ve heard several times.

There is a place where people still bring the sick to Jesus. I’ve never been there, perhaps you have. The people I’ve talked with tell a similar if not an identical story. I am speaking of Lourdes in France. It’s like a biblical scene. The sick, sometimes thousands of them, arrive by every possible means of conveyance, with hundreds of volunteers to care for them. Most of them do not receive a cure, but the answer to their prayers, and it is not a trivial one, is a healing in soul and spirit. They are renewed in faith, but the faith is not that they continue to expect physical healing. It is rather a conviction that God is with them. They do not bear the cross alone.

This is the good news, God is with us. It is a truth that is hard for us to take in, and perhaps even harder for us to explain.

For us, when all ties to the future seem to be cut off, when our pain and suffering seem overwhelming, it is in these moments when we are faced with Job’s choice: We can say, as Job’s wife suggested, “curse God and die” or we can come to God with open hands and heart. Tired, confused, angry as we may be, we can abandon hopelessness and bind ourselves to a hope that will sustain us even beyond death.

God promises in the Psalm today:

The Lord heals the brokenhearted. He binds up their wounds. He sustains the lowly.

We are talking about the One who stands against the dark forces of life that threaten to overcome us. We do not have to search for Him. He is among us. He is here. He holds us in his hands. He is our God.

To suffer is to write with our lives what we believe with our hearts. Our belief is that, though the setbacks in life are many, the victory, given to Jesus, will ultimately be ours.

~Sister Joan Sobala

Seeing Beyond the Demonic

 

Dear Friends,

In the readings of the previous two weekends, we heard Scriptural stories of God calling people to follow, to listen, to act in new ways. This week, no more stories of call. This week, instead, we find the challenge to everyone called. The name of that challenge is the demon.

The historian Adolf Harnack once noted that “at the time of Jesus, the whole world was thought to be filled with demons. Every phase and form of life was ruled by these evil spirits.”

Archeologists have found evidence of how extensive belief in demons really was in the world of biblical times. Ancient cemeteries contained remains of human skulls which had been trepanned. Trepanning is a process by which a small hole was drilled through the human skull. Its only purpose was to provide an escape mechanism for the demons what were believed to live in human beings. The willingness of primitive surgeons to bore such holes, and the willingness of people to accept such surgery leads later generations to conclude that belief in demons was intensely real.

Our own society is divided about demons. Stephen King novels, films about the occult underscore our culture’s curious fascination with the demonic. On the other hand, some fundamentalist groups place a great deal of emphasis on exorcising demons in their newly converted members. People sometimes have their homes exorcised of demonic spirits. Still others would consider the subject a tribute to unenlightenment.

Yet, if the truth be known, you and I experience the demonic in life. Anything that seeks to harm, destroy or obsess us, to overwhelm our peace of mind, our families, our relationships are manifestations of the demonic. The forces that possess groups of people, incapacitate them, distort their humanity are demonic.

One day, early in his public ministry, Mark tells us that Jesus came face-to-face with a man taken captive by a force outside human control. The demon was clever. He made the man cry out “Jesus, You are the Holy One of God.” But Jesus would not accept this seemingly positive acclamation from the demon. While the words said one thing, the demon was bent on the destruction of the man and the destruction of Jesus.

“Be quiet,” Jesus said. “Come out of the man.” The demon convulsed the man violently before leaving, but the important thing is this: he left.

The only authority Jesus had came from his Father, his loving heart and welcoming ways. He offered people alternatives to the destructiveness they experienced. Life could be different.

Today, we have a share in the authority of Christ. It’s up to us to confront the readiness to do violence, the need to possess more and more, the need to give in to disordered appetites. We are called to see beyond the demonic that distort and destroy people who suffer the ravages of demonic power.

Today’s reading from Genesis reminds us that, surely in life, good will be in conflict with evil, but just ask surely, God is with us as we face the demonic. Demons have never overcome our God.

~ Sister Joan Sobala

Embracing Change

Dear Friends,

The Sunday readings that come along every week prompt us to look at our lives through the lens of Scripture and in ways that speak to our times. For Jonah, Peter and Andrew, James and John, things would be different as they followed the Lord’s call. In First Corinthians, today, Paul calls us not to be too sure of the way things are – to let go of positions, possessions, and relationships, because in God’s own time, things will be different.

As disciples of Christ, having had the national experiences of the last few weeks, have we considered that we too will be different going forward? With God ever present to us, what are we called to think, express, become and do today and tomorrow, here in this scarred and suffering land?

First of all, I think we are not called to abandon one another – our brothers and sisters, whoever they are. Likewise, we are called not to abandon the poor, the questioning, the helpless and hopeless, the stranger, the terrorist, the enemy. Nor are we called to be resigned to the demonic in life – not to be fatalistic – but to be committed to justice and reconciliation, compassion and love. Called for sure, but hard work nonetheless.

To activate this commitment, we need to embrace certain changes in our attitudes and actions. It might be a valuable thing to consider what movements of grace are already stirring in us. Change is not instantaneous but is already happening in us. In today’s Gospel, the responses of Andrew and Peter, James and John to Jesus were radical, but each of these men had grown in readiness to accept the Lord long before they were even conscious of the changes they would soon embrace. In this time of new leadership in Washington, racial tensions, economic plight and the ongoing pandemic, what readiness has been evolving in us to follow the Lord more deeply?

Holy change is not instantaneous in us, but is already happening, and we’ll recognize it in ourselves when we symbolically plant trees and bury hatchets, when we look with love on our enemies and recognize that we have a part in shaping the Reign of God in our midst.

In our own religious language, the Reign of God happens when human conflict and misunderstanding are resolved into lasting peace and love. We don’t really talk enough about the Reign of God. Believers are prone to relegate it to some distant time. But the Reign of God, as Jesus would teach, is already here but not yet complete. The Reign of God becomes more true and real when we work toward life-giving change in our world. Fullness of life for all.

In faith, in this new time, let us encourage one another with words like these…

            Move on.
            Move over.
            Hand over.
            Hang on.
            Change when you are stagnant.
            Be pregnant with meaning.
            Partner with one another to accomplish the good.
            Let truth resonate in you.
            Don’t be afraid.

~Sister Joan Sobala

Doing Our Part for the Common Good

Dear Friends,

On Wednesday January 6, the traditional feast of the Epiphany, we witnessed in horror together the insurrection at our national Capitol. We were, as a people, stunned at what we saw and heard. Videos amassed from that day continue to haunt our tv viewing. And the impeachment of President Donald Trump on Wednesday, January 13 only adds to American misery.

For the foreseeable future, masterful teachers and analysts will be going over every inch of what happened that day to reveal the truth about ourselves, our leaders, our very way of life. This search for truth is not new in human history. Long before Jesus, people looked at the chaos and destruction foisted on one society by other members of that society. In these Christian centuries, the work of rebuilding nations has continued, and each of us has a part to play.

Jesus, in John’s Gospel, tells us unequivocally: “You will know the truth and the truth will set you free” (John 8.32). But truth needs to be pursued, recognized, welcomed, and internalized. Later in John, Jesus comes face to face with Pilate who flings at Jesus the question that continues to haunt us: “What is truth?”

In the search for truth and integrity, today’s American citizens – you and I included – are called to a new articulation of what matters most in life: the appreciation of people of all colors, men, and women alike, the common good. “Do no evil” is our bottom line. We can’t leave our future to elected leaders alone. We need to do our share.

To do this, we need to rethink and re-form our lives. Ron Rolheiser, in his book, Sacred Fire, offers a series of invitations that work in the light of our recent national experience if we let them. Practice these alone or with others and see.

• Be willing to carry more and more of life’s complexities with empathy.
• Transform jealousy, anger, bitterness and hatred rather than give them back in kind.
• Let suffering soften your heart rather than harden your soul. 
• Forgive – those who hurt you, your own sins, the unfairness of your life, and God for not rescuing you.
• Bless more and curse less!
• Pray.
• Be wide in your embrace.
• Stand where you are supposed to be standing, and let God provide the rest.

The work before us is reconciliation, transformation and a fresh regard for building the common good. Jesus also says in John (14.6): “I am the Way, the Truth and the Life.” Now is the time to let go of falsehood and walk together in this new and life-giving way. As Mary Oliver puts it, “It is a serious thing just to be alive this fresh morning in a broken world.”

~ Sister Joan Sobala

"Go to Joseph"

Dear Friends,

If your childhood memory dates back to the 1940s or 50s, you may recall how St. Joseph was pictured on holy cards – always an old man with luxuriant white hair and beard, a white lily nearby. That image of Joseph was the artist’s way of protecting the relationship between Joseph and Mary, for her virginity was sacred, and as a holy old man, Joseph would not violate her.

With the Second Vatican Council, many images changed, including that of Joseph. Look at the holy family pictured above. Joseph is young and virile, a man who had an absorbing task before him – to use his energies and talents to love and support Jesus and Mary.

Believers throughout history have grasped the significance of Joseph when male protection was everything to a family. Since early Christianity, people have honored Joseph. Teresa of Avila called him “a protector for all the circumstances of life.” Cardinal John Newman named him Holy Joseph, “because no other saint but he lived in such and so long intimacy with the source of all holiness, Jesus, God incarnate, and Mary, the holiest of creatures.” Pope Francis, in an Apostolic Letter entitled Patris Corde (With a Father’s Heart), shared some of his personal reflections on Joseph, writing: “Each of us can discover in Joseph – the man who goes unnoticed, a daily, discreet and hidden presence – an intercessor, a support and a guide in times of trouble.” We are, as a world, in times of trouble right now. The pandemic and the many crises it has spawned give evidence to that reality. A look at the frontline medical workers we see on television, who beg us to mask up and be socially distant, are ordinary people like Joseph, often overlooked. Joseph reminds us that those who appear hidden or in the shadows can play an incomparable role in salvation history.

For centuries, believers felt that Joseph was not only the protector of Jesus and Mary, he was the protector of the Church as well. In celebration of the 150^th anniversary of St. Joseph being named patron of the universal church, Pope Francis proclaimed that the Church will celebrate this year as Year of Saint Joseph, from December 8, 2020 to December 8, 2021. Both Pope Pius IX in 1870 and Pope Francis in 2020, described the times in which they lived as full of darkness – times that needed the protection of one who knew how to protect the most sacred in life. These popes went to Joseph, for they knew that Christ and His people who are here today, are in need of Joseph as a companion and guide.

So, this year, let’s all “Go to Joseph!” Let’s include him in our prayer. Let’s think about his life and virtues and emulate all we can of this loveable, loving man’s life. When we think of refugees and the hopeless, unemployed workers, fathers who support their families, let’s “Go to Joseph.” He himself experienced these hardships. Let’s “Go to Joseph” when we think about our own families, for he himself treasured his family as he went with them down uncharted paths.  

~Sister Joan Sobala

Following Our Star in the New Year

Dear Friends,

On this first Sunday of a new year, consider the people who have influenced your life…people in your intimate family circle as well as those beyond. Those beyond could be people you can name – like Pope Francis, Donald Trump and Joe Biden. They could be nameless like the Magi whose involvement in Jesus life was brief, generous, arduously undertaken and which impelled Jesus, Mary and Joseph to travel beyond their plans to spend time in Egypt. 

After following the star and a detour to King Herod, the Magi finally came to the house where Jesus was. Matthew tells how they fell to their knees and worshipped him. They believed that this child held the key to the meaning of life. Whether it was their original intention or not, the Magi left gifts that drew attention to his authority, divinity and humanity. In leaving these gifts the Magi accepted that the newborn king was not what they expected.

In this new year, is God in Jesus what we have expected? This is a question worthy of our consideration. God is in the midst of the year 2020, which we have just completed – a year that, on the cover of a recent issue of TIME magazine was x-ed out. COVID marred 2020. So did forest fires and hurricanes and floods, storms of other kinds. We may think this is the most awful year in American history, but maybe not. Maybe we need to reclaim it as a year in which God reached out to us in a unique way, not to test us but to be present to us as life became more fragile for more people.

During this year just completed, we, too, had our star to follow, dreams that spoke God’s word to us in the deepest part of our being. Perhaps the only way we could have felt unquenched aloneness is if we did not acknowledge this God who is always with us. Did we feel unquenched loneliness?

God in Christ, says to us on this Epiphany Day:

Stand firm.

Listen to the dream.

                Follow the star.

                Go where it tells you. 

                Be sure of my love for you.

                Press on beyond disbelief.

                Stay close to each other.

                 Stay close to me.

If, from a human point of view, Epiphany celebrates the human search for God, from God’s viewpoint, Epiphany celebrates that God can be found. God wants to be found by us. 2021 is a year given to us to experience God, but we have to make time to do so. Be willing to stand before what looks like unfinished pain and emptiness and recognize God’s touch, embrace, the whisper of God in our innermost being, the hand holding our own.

God is more present that any Herod that comes our way, seeking to destroy who we are and what we cling to as essential for life. 

~ Sister Joan Sobala