28th of the Year, 9 Oct 22
The days after Christmas are a funny time of year. A few years ago on 27th December I presided at a burial and it was one of the most poignant I’ve done. It was perhaps in part the time of year, aware many were recovering from too much Turkey and fed up of hearing “All I want for Christmas is you,” and other such ditties. It was certainly cold and the ground hard with the ice. But what was unusual was that the only people present apart from me at the graveside were the undertakers: no mourners, no family, no neighbours. As I stood there saying the same prayers and wearing the same clothes I would have said and worn were a thousand people there I was intensely aware of the priest’s representative role. I stood there acutely aware that the priest is to represent God to His people and also to present His people to God and to each other.
We understand this and it is evident when people ask me to attend family celebrations. It’s not because I’m going to be the life and soul of the party or because I’m going to be the best dancer, though I’ll give it a try as many of you have witnessed over the years! But it’s not for these reasons, but because of this representative role the priest is given. Inviting your priest means you’re welcoming the Church into whatever it is you are celebrating or commemorating. I’m always glad to be invited and I’m grateful for your patience and forbearance when I’m not able to attend. In today’s Gospel Jesus heals ten people and He gives them a (perhaps) curious command: “Go and show yourselves to the priest.” And that is because there was this same understanding of priesthood. So, I want to start today by thinking why that’s the case.
We see it explained supremely in the letter to the Hebrews. There we read a great extended reflection on the priesthood of our Lord Jesus Christ. At St Mary’s we are reminded of our Lord’s priestly character when we kneel and light candles at the shrine of the Sacred Heart where Jesus is depicted wearing a stole, a priest’s garment, across His chest. Yes, Jesus is “the great High priest who has passed through the Heavens,” (4:14)“now to appear in the presence of God on our behalf,” (9:24). The Blood of Jesus puts right our relationship with God in the same way that in the Old Testament sacrifices blood was sprinkled on things to make them holy (9:19-21) so they could be used in the places where God and His people met.
In a different incident Jesus tells a leper to go and see the priest and give the offering required (St Luke 5:14). We read in Leviticus 14 that this was part of what was required. In part this process saw the priests as gatekeepers: once they were satisfied that someone was clear of leprosy they could rejoin the community, a sort of ancient lateral flow test! And this sounds similar to the role lived out by shepherds, sleeping at the entrance to the sheepfold to protect their charges contained therein.
The point of this wasn’t to keep people out however, but to ensure the vitality of the community so that all those inside could associate with each other freely. Part of the lesson of our Gospel reading and indeed from the first reading we heard from II Kings 5 is that through ingratitude we so often exclude ourself from the community. The nine ungrateful yet cleansed lepers keep themselves away from the fellowship of showing themselves to the priests. “Where are they?” Jesus asks, just as God asks after the sin of Adam and Eve who hide themselves, “Where are you?” Sin estranges us from God, puts a distance between us and Him. In contrast Naaman overcomes his pride and washes himself in the mucky old Jordan and is cleansed. He’s so thrilled he wants to take some of the earth from Israel with Him as only in Israel could God be worshipped. He wants to take God wherever he goes, he never wants to be separated from Him, he’s so pleased with what God has done he always wants to be able to make sacrifice to Him.
Fellowship with each other and fellowship with God are hallmarks then of a healthy relationship with God. Equally, loneliness and isolation are problems and we’re particularly aware of the pain of this in people’s lives today. And while modern technology does wonderful things for communication, it has also by and large cheapened it. The words we speak are degraded and so human society becomes less open to believing the Word made Flesh and following Him who calls us.
Sometimes loneliness will be a result of sin and pride, but sometimes it will be a consequence of following God faithfully. Supremely we see this on the Cross when Jesus who in that moment of offering is most sacredly and completely doing the will of the Father, in that solemn moment cries out, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” (St Matthew 27:46 quoting Psalm 22:1). It would seem that God the Father has abandoned God the Son but we know this cannot be. We could rationalise that so intense is the suffering as the Innocent One dies on the Cross that this would warrant the separation but in that moment surely our Lord is simply articulating what His followers also feel when we’re in situations of darkness when we alone are trying to be faithful: where we try to stand up to the bullies even though they outnumber us or are in positions of responsibility over us; when we try to stay faithful even though everyone partying around us seems to be having more fun; when those who steal and cheat have more wealth than we do. Ironically there is a loneliness in trying to be faithful and we feel so lonely we think even God might have abandoned us.
Sometimes this leads us when we are trying to live up to the high calling of perfection to end up being arrogant: “Why can’t everyone be as kind/patient/prayerful or whatever as me?” The loneliness leads us to assume a feeling of superiority, an arrogance. But this is not the example Jesus gives us who lays down His life as a ransom for many and who came not to be served but to serve (St Matthew 20:28). In the episode recorded in today’s Gospel the healed Samaritan doesn’t criticise the nine who don’t thank Jesus, He’s too busy praising the Lord and prostrating himself before Christ.
Some Christian commentators have argued that this is why the formation of strong Christian communities is so important in our modern world: so the loneliness of faithful service can be overcome and so that it doesn’t feel quite so lonely. One of our tasks as a Church family here is to ensure that all who come through our doors know that here we have a community of people feeling just as lonely and broken, as well as blessed and hopeful as they are. It’s one of the reasons I think the routine of daily corporate prayer is so important: it means we’re not kidding ourselves that living those seven days in between Sunday Mass without each other is easy. Yes, there is Mass at St Mary’s every day for it is daily bread for which our Lord bids us pray in that prayer He gave us: “Give us this day our daily bread.” And I’m delighted that numbers attending those weekday Masses over the last few years have generally increased. Come along: the times are on the third page of the Mass Sheet.
In community life we learn to realise that our activity is to be focused towards the benefit of others. We cook so that others can eat. We give financially so the poorer can still be part of something beautiful. We sing loudly so the less confident know the tune. We volunteer as Sunday School teachers so the young know what Christ has done for them too. The trouble is that when there doesn’t seem to be enough to go around, be it kindness, food or gas being in short supply our response is to hoard and become more selfish. Whereas gratitude for what we have received means we don’t focus on what we don’t have but on what we do and thus we become more willing to form strong communities where we support each other.
And part of the generosity of God is that we don’t have to go to Israel to worship Him anymore. In that first reading, Naaman with the best of intentions taking soil off to his homeland in that first reading reminds us of the universal love of God revealed in Christ Jesus, born in Bethlehem, “least of the clans” (Micah 5:2 quoted in St Matthew 2:6) in a stable so dim, when all seemed lost and sunk in sin. Here God comes in our own human flesh, to teach and to usher in a kingdom; to suffer, die and be risen from the dead so that, having ascended He can be present until the end of the age. He is present through His Sacraments, chief among them the Mass, through which we proclaim His Death and Resurrection.
So we can worship God here in spirit and in truth, not in types and shadows but, as the hymn by St Thomas Aquinas puts it, “faith the outward sense befriending makes the inward vision clear.” We have confidence that Jesus is here under the forms of bread and wine. And here we are, even with crowds coming to watch American football and parking restrictions imposed by the Council, it is still so easy for us to be here and to see God and to be nourished by Him. How wonderful that is and it is only because of His immense love. This should make us grateful, glad that we’re not left alone but called in to a community gathered around the Lord him whom we fix our gaze and no one need ever be alone.