Homily: Thursday, 2nd Week in Ordinary Time

Readings: 1 Sm 18:6-9; 19:1-7; Ps 56; Mk 3:7-12

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Today we are blessed to celebrate the lives of two 3^rd-century martyrs. St. Fabian was a layman, who was elected as Bishop of Rome. (To my knowledge, he is unrelated to the 1950s teen idol of the same name.) But, in the event any of you are planning such a career change, realize Canon Law no longer permits this. Interestingly, though, Fabian’s body now rests in the Basilica of St. Sebastian, whom we also celebrate today.

Sebastian is probably best known for having been pierced by multiple arrows. Surprisingly, he managed to survive this, only to be clubbed to death later. There’s a certain irony in the fact that he is the patron saint of archers.

St. Sebastian

It's good for us today to remember the courage of these martyrs, who are such wonderful examples of lives well lived, of lives offered up for God’s glory.

Back in my other life, a life not always so well lived – a life before the diaconate and before The Villages – because of my work, I would often be asked to speak at corporate management meetings, or at industry conventions, usually on subjects related to management or customer focus.

I’ll admit, it was nice to receive a warm response, even the occasional standing ovation, and realize what I had to say struck a chord with the audience. But to keep me humble, someone would often come up to me afterwards, very upset about something I had said.

I was perhaps a bit like Saul in today's passage from 1^st Samuel, a man who sought accolades and resented anything negative…and I'd often argue with those who disagreed with me.

It took me quite a while to realize I could never please everyone. It also took me a while to understand that those who came to me upset simply wanted someone to listen to them.

Instead of just dismissing them, I began to listen. And in that listening, and in the questioning that usually followed, I learned that sometimes these “great thoughts of mine” might not always lead to success when put into practice.

Yes, I learned that some of what I believed about the subjects on which many thought I was an expert needed to be adjusted a bit. It was humbling, but in the listening, I think I became better at what I did.

I thought of this other life of mine as I read today’s Gospel passage. And how the crowds must have moved Jesus. And how very different He is from us, how different from me. Unlike me, Jesus is not concerned about Himself. His focus is entirely on those who have come to Him.

We see Jesus followed and surrounded by huge crowds, so large that the disciples worried the crowds would crush Him. When I spoke to an audience, it was to a gathering of like-minded people, and I usually knew what they wanted to hear. They weren’t hard to please. But Jesus was surrounded by huge crowds of such different minded people.

Oh, the Pharisees and Scribes were always there, despising Him, listening in, hoping to trap Him.

The Twelve were there, too, probably acting a bit officious, and basking a little in His reflected glory.

Many came to Him hoping for cures. They came themselves or they brought those who suffered, those who wanted only to touch Him. And so, He heals them.

But these crowds weren’t just Jews. No, Mark says they came from Tyre and Sidon, and from beyond the Jordan…that’s Gentile country. Yes, the Word had gotten around, hadn’t it? The Word. Even among the Gentiles. They, too, just sought healing, longed to hear a Word that might bring some hope into their confused and often desperate lives.

But someone else was there too. Some who came were possessed by evil spirits.

They fell down before Jesus and cried out, “You are the Son of God!” [Mk 3:11] Jesus ordered them to keep silent. He knew their cry wasn’t a confession of faith; rather it was an attempt to turn aside the threatening power of Jesus by using His exact name.

Jesus also knew the crowds weren’t ready to receive this revelation of the Messianic Secret. Their understanding was still superficial. They came for their own needs, not for discipleship. They came to receive, but not yet to give. But notice, Jesus never turned them away. They had needs only He could satisfy, and His mercy and His compassion brought physical and spiritual healing into their lives.

His warning to the spirits, though, came from the very nature of His mission. God became man so that man might share in divine life, an incredible thing in itself. But scandal and folly result from the means by which He accomplishes His mission: the glory of the Cross. To reveal His mission before its time would drive away many whom He wished to save.

His purpose, then, through His self-revelation, is to save folks like me – folks like you – from our self-delusions of grandeur.

Brothers and sisters, we can’t save ourselves, for salvation comes only from love – from God’s love and from our willingness to love God and each other.

It comes from carrying our own cross in union with the crucified Christ.