HOMILY WEEK 01 04 – Year I

Torah and Temple, or Partners of Christ

Memorial: St Anthony, Abbot

(Heb 3:7-14; Ps 95; Mk 1:40-45)

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Have you ever felt guilty for not picking up a hitch-hiker? Or not reaching out to a man seemingly lost in a gas station parking lot?

Today’s liturgy invites us to go far beyond the rubrics of the Torah and the rituals of the Temple to be partners of Christ in heart-felt compassion.

My journey to the States was somewhat marred by an incident of passing by a man walking by the highway, justifying myself because he was not obviously hitch-hiking, although the pack on his back suggested he was. Later that day while gassing up, I noticed a man who might have been homeless wandering aimlessly nearby, but avoided any contact with him. That evening, I felt a lingering feeling of guilt I could have done more.

The readings today bring back that feeling, as we are encouraged to go beyond Temple and Torah, to be compassionate partners of Christ.

The author of Hebrews, in the first reading, has the Holy Spirit speaking to us about the waywardness of our ancestors in the desert. They were chosen by God to be icons of God on earth. By their fidelity to the covenant relationship with God, and to the way of life God had given to them on Mt. Sinai, they were to draw all other nations back to God.

Salvation history tells us just the opposite occurred. Although given the Law (Torah), Land and Temple, they continually fell for the false gods of possessions, prestige and power. They had, as the author of Hebrews puts it, “unbelieving hearts that turned away from the living God.”

Psalm 95, which is a daily option as the invitatory for morning prayer of the Divine Office, provides a background for the author of Hebrews, reminding us not to “harden our hearts as our ancestors did in the desert.”

The gospel of Mark shows us the opposite example. A man with leprosy, who is ritually unclean, comes to Jesus with deep faith in him and his power to heal, and makes his request kneeling before Jesus. What an example of humble faith! Jesus, moved with compassion, doesn’t just speak words of healing. He significantly stretches out his hand to touch the leper, deliberately breaking all the rules of ritual cleanliness. Immediately, we are told, the leprosy left him and he was made clean.

What is also significant is the occurrence of what is called in Mark the “messianic secret” – Jesus consistently, as he does here, caution those he healed against speaking about it publicly, but rather to go and show themselves to the priests as Moses commanded. Jesus knew people would misunderstand his role as the Messiah before his passion and resurrection and would want to make him a king and political ruler expected to oust the Roman oppressors. They would not see him as the fulfillment of the prophecies of the Old Testament, as the Suffering Servant of God who would deliver God’s people from their real enemies, sin, sinfulness and death.

The Temple was the religious, cultural and even political heart of Judaism at the time of Jesus. Cleansing one’s self in the mitzvah was a prelude to temple worship. Jesus, the Messiah, Son of God and Lamb of God, was “cleansing” people, not in the temple, but outside the temple, where the lowly and often excluded ones were, such as the leper. That is why he would ask the leper who was healed to first go and show himself to the priests “as a testimony to them” before spreading the news of his healing. Jesus was hoping the temple priests would get the message he was truly the long-awaited Messiah, and come to him with believing hearts, unlike their ancestors. Now that invitation extends to us.

The author of Hebrews challenges us not only to understand this mystery of the crucified Messiah and Lamb of God, but to participate in it as partners of Christ, the new Temple and the one who is greater than the Torah, who calls us to live the new law of love and compassion, not ritual and rightness. Part of the source of my guilt described above is knowing in my heart that Jesus would have stopped to see if the man needed a ride, and would probably have gone over to the man in the gas station lot to see if he needed anything.

Someone who articulates this understanding well is Johann Baptist Metz who writes in his book The Courage to Pray: “If we are to pray in the spirit of Christ, we cannot turn our backs on the suffering of others. Prayer demands that we love our fellow human beings; we have no choice. It can make prayer extremely dangerous, for example, in situations where humanity is systematically supressed, and where people are forced to live as if no bonds of allegiance existed between them. This need for humanity urges Christians today to adopt a positive attitude toward prayer. We must pray not just for the poor but with them. This contradicts our instinctive tendency to avoid the company of those who are unhappy or suffering. A mature attitude towards prayer presupposes the readiness to assume responsibility.” (p.19-22)

Someone else who “got this” was St Anthony whom the church honors today. He had a profound influence on the history of monasticism. Much of what we know about Anthony comes from a biography of him written by his close friend St. Antanasius. Anthony was born into a wealthy Christian family in Upper Egypt about 251. Both his parents died while he was a teenager, leaving him with only a younger sister whom he cared for and also looked after their home.

Not six months after the death of his parents, as he was on his way to church, he began to think of how the apostles left everything and followed the Savior, and of those who in the book of Acts who had sold their possessions and distributed the money to the needy. He reflected too on the great hope stored up in heaven for such as these. Entering the church for his usual visit just as the Gospel was being read, he heard the Lord’s words to the rich young man: “If you want to be perfect, go and sell all you have and give the money to the poor–you will have riches in heaven. Then come and follow me.”It seemed to Anthony that it was God who had brought the saints to his mind and that the words of the Gospel had been spoken directly to him. He immediately left the church and gave away to the villagers the 200 acres of very beautiful and fertile land he had inherited, so that it would cause no distraction to him and his sister. Keeping a portion to care for her, he sold all his other possessions and gave the money to the poor.

The next time he went to church he heard the Lord say in the Gospel, “Do not be anxious about tomorrow.” Without a moment’s hesitation, gave the poor all that he had left, after placing his sister in the care of some trustworthy persons and arranging for her to be brought up in a convent. Then he gave himself up the ascetic life, not far from his own home. He kept careful watch over himself and practiced great austerity. He did manual work because he had heard the words: “If anyone will not work, do not let him eat.” He spent some of his earning on bread and the rest he gave to the poor. Having learned that we should always be praying, even when we are by ourselves, he prayed without ceasing. Indeed, he was so attentive when Scripture was read that nothing escaped him and because he retained all he heard, his memory served him in place of books.

Seeing the kind of life he lived, the villagers and all the good people he knew called him a friend of God, and loved him as both son and brother. This was the beginning of Christian monastic life soon taking root elsewhere. In 311, Anthony went Alexandria to encourage the Christians who were being persecuted. In 355, he returned to Alexandria to help his close friend Bishop Antanasius in the struggle against Arianism. Anthony died on January 17, 356, well known for his holiness, wisdom and asceticism.

In the Eucharist, Jesus reaches out to us, speaking words of healing in the Liturgy of the Word, and sharing with us his very own body and blood in the Liturgy of the Eucharist.

May our celebration deepen our faith in Jesus, like the leper, and empower us to reach out to others, beyond Torah and Temple, as partners of Christ.