Homily For Fifth Sunday
in Ordinary Time - February 6, 2011

Homily for the Fifth Sunday of the Year (A)

Reading the morning newspaper or watching the evening news can be terribly sad and a discouraging experience. The stories never end. And they lead to the inescapable conclusion that we live in a world in desperate need of healing. Of course, we all know that. Each story stands alone as a human tragedy that needs to be addressed. But none of them tells us anything new about our world. And we have known that for a long, long, time. The diagnosis has already been made. And the only thing we have to decide is how to respond. Our first inclination is to complain about it and wish that it were not so. But surely, as Christians, we can do something different than that.
Jesus also lived in a difficult world. In some ways, it was even worse than ours. The government was harsh and cruel. Human rights were virtually unknown. Slavery was an established institution. If we have reason to fret and complain about the sad shape of our world, Jesus had all the more. Yet, I cannot recall that he ever did. Occasionally, we ask ourselves or ask one another, “What is this world coming to?”
As far as I can tell, that question was never in the mind of Jesus. Instead of becoming obsessed with problems, he concentrated on solutions. And part of his solution to the world’s desperation was that little group of people who gathered around him.
In today’s gospel reading, he said to them: “You are the salt of the earth. You are the light of the world.” That must have come to them as quite a shock. I am sure that they had never thought of themselves in such terms. The problems of the world were not their problems. They did not cause them, and they certainly could not cure them. But Jesus thought otherwise. He saw them as both part of the problem and part of the solution. And the same is true of you and me.
To face that fact is the beginning of a healthy response to our difficult world. We have no right to think of ourselves as innocent bystanders in all of this. To be sure, you and I did not start the war in Iraq or Afghantistan. And we cannot stop it. But the driving force in those conflicts has been religious and ethnic animosity. People have been unwilling or unable or afraid to live and work with other people who have different cultures. When the problem is stated in such terms, then none of us can walk away scot free. We all have difficulty accepting people who are not like us and our group.
The first thing we want to do is to change them. If that cannot be done, our next inclination is to avoid them. Failing to do that, we tend to become hostile and aggressive. And that is a large part of the problem that makes the world so difficult. It is why the Nazis slaughtered six million people. They called it “the Jewish problem”. Think of that. The Jewish people were seen, not as people, but as a problem. The mind reels with such stupidity.
Was Albert Einstein a problem? He was, perhaps, the most brilliant physicist who ever lived. And yet some white supremacist would call him a problem. Was Jonas Salk a problem? He developed the polio vaccine that saved the lives and limbs of millions of children. Dr. Salk a problem? Such is the absurdity of racial and religious bigotry.
It is one of the worst evils ever known. And when we allow any of it to live in our hearts, we are part of the problem. To face that fact is one healthy response to our difficult world.
Another is to become part of the healing process. That was the emphasis that Jesus made with his disciples. Their role was not to diagnose the disease nor bemoan the sickness. They were to help with the healing. They were the “salt of the earth” and the “light of the world.” Salt did two things in the ancient time. It prevented decay and enhanced the taste of food. Light served the same purpose as today. It pushed back the darkness. We can do all of those things, even though our lives may seem very small and insignificant.
It is worth noting that both salt and light produce results disproportionate to their size. Have you ever noticed how many recipes call for ¼ teaspoon of salt? That is all it takes, just a pinch to bring out the flavor. One caring, loving, and giving deed can enrich the lives of a dozen of people. And even a small light can illuminate an entire room.
What is Jesus asking of us in the gospel today? That we leave our homes, jobs, and rush out and get involved in a whirlwind of good works? I do not think so. I believe that He wants us to practice our faith in the real world in whatever situation we find ourselves. Here are some examples of what I mean:
If I am a teacher, what do people expect of me? That I prepare my classes and teach well, and that I refrain from showing favoritism, and care for all the children. If I am a lawyer or judge, what do people expect of me? Justice is the salt of society. If I am a doctor, what do people expect from me? That I treat persons as persons and not just as specimens. If I am a business person, what do people expect from me? That I give a just wage, do not overcharge, and have fair business practices. If I am a parent, what do my children expect from me? That I listen, take and interest in what they are doing and do my best to be there when they need me. If I am retired, what do people expect from me? That I be a better listener because I have more time to pray and to be reflective, and that I not complain that I do not have anything to do. If I am a priest, what do people expect of me? That I would do my best to practice what I preach. We could multiply examples and still not cover every situation. Each of us much look into our own hearts and ask ourselves? “How are we salt and light among the people we meet everyday in the ordinary situation that occur in our lives.”
There was a wise nun who was teaching a very difficult class of ninth graders. They were good kids, and bright, but she noticed that they had a bad habit of cutting down everyone and everything that crossed their paths—including the persons they saw in the mirror every morning.
Sister knew that she could not let this go on. So one Friday morning, she distributed to each member of the class a complete student roster. She instructed them to write down next to each name the best things they could honestly say about each classmate. “Just tell the truth,” she said, “nothing more.” And so they did.
Over the weekend, sister compiled the data, and on Monday, she handed each student a summary of what their classmates really thought of them.
Without exception, the students were astonished. “I never knew anybody noticed that about me,” said some. “I didn’t realize people liked me so much,” said others. And all of them said, “I guess I am a lot better than I thought.”
But the story doesn’t end there, because years later one of those students was killed in Vietnam. And that wise nun and many of her former students gathered for the funeral. After the funeral Mass, the dead soldier’s father came over to sister. “I want to show you something,” he said. “They found this in my son’s pocket.” He put in her hand a worn and yellowed piece of paper that had been folded and unfolded many times. It was his son’s treasured list of all the good things his classmates had seen in him so long ago.
After some moments of teary silence, each one of those former classmates spoke up in turn and admitted that they too, had tucked in diaries or scrapbooks, in wallets or purses, folded and unfolded that paper many times across the years, reminding them of all the good their classmates had seen in them, and calling them again and again to be true to that good. What a splendid gift they had given to one another!
Wouldn’t our families or households be different if we went around the table telling each one something that we admire in them instead of criticizing them? Wouldn’t our lives be different if we accentuated the positive aspects of our lives and didn’t dwell on the negative? Let us pray for each other (this evening) (today): Jesus, let us never forget that we are light and salt for one another. Keep our light burning brightly so that all around us may see more goodness and have less fear. Keep the special flavor of our lives strong so that all whose lives we touch will grow and flourish. We ask this in your name. Amen.