Below is a homily for today’s Sunday Mass written by my dear friend, Deacon Dustin Feddon, PhD, of the diocese of Pensacola-Tallahassee. It is published here with his permission. Those who are being, and who will be served by his ordained ministry are singularly blessed. Deacon Feddon, whose doctoral dissertation tells the story of the political reception of Søren Kierkegaard in Weimar Europe, has a servant’s heart, a brilliant mind, and (to me) incarnates both Pope Benedict and Pope Francis’ spirit. In particular, the time he spent serving death row inmates in Florida’s “Starke” State Prison, and the many remarkable stories he shared with me, revealed to me the true depth of his priestly heart. I feel I can say of our friendship what St. Gregory said in his Funeral Oration of his friendship with St. Basil the Great:
When, in the course of time, we acknowledged our friendship and recognized that our ambition was a life of true wisdom, we became everything to each other. Our love for each other grew daily warmer and deeper.
The same hope inspired us: the pursuit of learning. This is an ambition especially subject to envy. Yet between us there was no envy. On the contrary, we made capital out of our rivalry. Our rivalry consisted, not in seeking the first place for oneself but in yielding it to the other, for we each looked on the other’s success as his own.
How blessed am I! Here is his pithy and profound homily:
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Tom: Thought I’d share with you all a brief homily that I just wrote for this weekend. It was inspired by yesterday’s reading in Matthew where immediately after Jesus finishes his sermon on the mount–his exposition, interpretation of the law, and confessing that he’s come to fulfill the law–he goes to one whom the law excluded–a leper. I’ll never read that passage quite the same way.
In Mark we witness the wide range of Jesus’ ministry. He attends to a prominent Jewish leader in the synagogue, Jairus, and to a nameless, marginalized woman. This woman’s blood disease rendered her impure, ritually unclean and thus vanquished from the community. Some might call her a reject.
We know from Leviticus 15 that a woman experiencing menstrual bleeding causes ritual impurity. To have diseased blood was counter to the natural order of things. And to be considered ritually impure was a humiliating, shamed position of defilement in the Jewish community. One gentile writer at this time describes such diseases as a ‘grievous calamity’ since it not only was a physical disease but also made one childless—one of the more sever stigmas in the ancient world.
Perhaps we can consider some of the harsh realities facing the disgraced and ostracized. Often those marginalized from society feel as though they are a nonperson, worthless and unwanted. These are the low-downs in society. In our “health crazed and happy-centric culture” we view the mentally distressed or other deviants as untouchable. Rather than being seen as a human person created in the image of our Father, they are seen as ‘crazies’, ‘loons’, or ‘psychos.’ In other words they are seen as nonpersons—we only see their disease. They are harmful to look at—we turn or move away from them as though they might infect us as the hemorrhaging woman might infect Jesus with her blood-soaked impurity. These ones, well they move about us ghost-like as though without substance.
But let us not relegate such phenomena only to the extremes—how many of us carry in our souls a darkness of shame and humiliation. How many of us want to disappear ghost-like? Perhaps we often think others are always looking on us disapprovingly. This too can be a form of illness that alienates us from others.
Our marginalized woman is courageous and audacious. So radically so that she reaches out of her twelve-year despair-infested cocoon of sadness to touch Jesus. Audacious because such contact would likely convey the impression that she desired to infect Jesus with her impurity. As she touches Jesus a shock goes throughout her diseased body. Jesus’ curative power now pulsates throughout her infected vessels—she will now become evidential proof of God’s curative, restorative love that emanates from His Son Jesus.
Jesus tells her ‘your faith has saved/cured you.’ How sublime. Her willingness to break through the social, political and religious boundaries and stigmas associated with her kind to now touch Jesus is what saves her! Her illness is transformed into her cure as she opens her disease to Christ.
So what might we gain from this nameless marginalized woman? Her desperation and bold decision to touch Jesus saves her. May we be so bold as her to allow our desperation to inspire us to seek out and touch Jesus knowing that his love never shames nor humiliates. And may we as a Church never erect boundaries and barriers to those willing to be healed, especially those whom the law may exclude and reject. Allow this brave woman to be our model this day as we open our afflictions and infirmities to Jesus who alone can heal us.