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Like the much-beleaguered Jairus—whose daughter was at the point of
death—when we confront dire straits in our lives, we may also find
ourselves falling upon our knees and pleading earnestly that God do
something to alleviate what causes our anguish and pain.
“Please God, take it
away,” we beg sincerely. “I just don’t think I can bear this
cross any longer.”
Jairus was an elected leader of the local synagogue, responsible for
supervising the weekly worship, operating the school, and caring for
the building, a sort of
“chief operating
officer” for the teacher, the Rabbi.
Some synagogue leaders had been pressured not to support Jesus.
But, despite his job responsibilities and role in the Jewish
community, Jairus did not cave into that pressure. Jairus
bowed before Jesus and uttered his anguished cry for help: “My
daughter is at the point of death. Please, Sir, come lay your hands
on her that she may get well and live.”
For many of us, this experience may have occurred when we were
forced to confront the impending death of a loved one, as Jairus
did. I suspect, however, this experience has happened more
frequently when we have confronted the power of evil under a host of
other, far less-threatening, but equally serious tests in our
lives. These may have included: falling short once again of a goal
that we’ve set for ourselves; failing others who were depending upon
us to come through for them; a teenager whose life has gone awry
despite everything we’ve
tried;
the sudden and unexpected loss of a job; the breakdown and failure
of a marriage, whether that be one’s own, a child’s, or a friend’s;
or, a physician’s announcement that one has acquired a debilitating
and potentially terminal, dread disease. No matter what the
situation causing our anguish and pain, we beg God
“Please take away this cross by restoring everything to ‘normal’.”
That’s part of a problem I think we need to contemplate a bit in
light of today’s gospel. We typically define “normal” as “the
absence of evil,” or to put it more colloquially, “that nothing
interferes with my plans for today.” As long as everything proceeds
normally, we have little need for God. But, as sure as we become
aware that something actually has the power to threaten our plans,
our days, and/or our lives and we find the situation beyond our
ability to deal with it, the first to hear from us about the
“bad news”
is God. Calling upon God from
“out of the blue,”
we
plead, just as Jairus pleaded: “Please, come lay your hands on my
daughter that she may get well and live.”
I don’t happen to believe we consciously set out to accord God a
secondary role in our lives. No, what I believe happens is that we
lull ourselves into allowing God to be irrelevant in our daily
lives. And, as long as everything proceeds normally, what is there
to remind us of our deep and abiding need for God? Sure, we may
claim to be people of faith; but, lulled into complacency, we have
little or no need for the practice of our faith—what’s called
“religion”—in our daily lives. Religion is the
“glue” that binds faith to daily life, whether that be through
rituals, partaking of the sacraments, sacramentals, devotions,
corporal and spiritual works of mercy, and the like.
This is the problem we need to consider: many of us believe we can
have a satisfactory faith, but we don’t actively reconnect our faith
with our daily lives through the practice of our religion. That is,
we believe in God and would insist that we generally lead a good
life. Surrounded by God’s many blessings, we make choices that
accord the practice of our religion a second, if not third or fourth
place in our daily lives, if at all. And, as long as everything
proceeds normally—that is, nothing interferes with our plans or
day—we give no thought to God. But, just as soon as things don’t
proceed normally—that is, when evil raises its ugly head, as it did
for Jairus—then, all of a sudden, we’re pleading with God to make
His presence known by alleviating the anguish and pain we are
experiencing.
My point is this: to claim to be a person of faith is one thing
but if we are actually to be a person of faith we must live each day
reconnecting our faith with the practice of our religion.
Anyone can claim to believe in God, that is, to have faith. Lots of
people have faith. They believe in God. They trust that
God loves them. They try to lead virtuous lives. They
may even do good for others through their work and charitable
activities. Think, for example, of teachers, of social
workers, and of first responders. But, if anyone is to have a
vibrant and living faith, that individual must practice his or her
religion. Teachers who understand that God has entrusted them with
speaking to the soul of a young person is a world of difference from
those whose job is to communicate knowledge. Social workers
who seek to bring God’s
love and healing to their clients are very different from those who
deliver mandated government services and checks. First
responders who pray and entrust their lives to God before they enter
a burning building to save others’ lives realize the difference
between providing a public service and living out their faith.
Faith is given visible expression in religion. That is, belief
flourishes as it continuously reconnects religious practice in daily
life. Otherwise faith is nothing but an nice idea and the practice
of religion is nothing but going through empty rituals. The test of
the vitality of our faith will come—and it surely will come—when we
are tested as the power of evil manifests itself in our lives with
the goal of distracting us from focusing solely upon God and putting
ourselves first.
I read of an example of this in yesterday’s New York Times.
You likely know the public story of marital infidelity. But,
you may not know the private story of faith and religion and how
these intersect when evil rears its ugly head in things like marital
infidelity. So, let me introduce you to that part of this woman’s―this
wife’s and mother’s―life.
My intention is not to make of her a
“saint”; after all, I don’t know the whole story. But, I do
think it important to reflect upon her words in order that we may
discern what those words may have to teach us about faith and the
practice of our Catholic religion.
Confronting the reality of evil—in the form of her husband’s
infidelity—as it has been attacking and seeking to devour everything
this woman values, listen carefully to her words:
·
“When
I first learned of my husband’s affair early this year when I found
a letter he had written to his mistress, I told him to end the
relationship. But, my husband repeatedly asked permission to visit
the woman in the months that followed.
‘I
said absolutely not. It’s one thing to forgive adultery. It’s
another to condone it’.”
(What’s
going on here? This woman is “standing for” something!
Why couldn’t she just give her husband the space and time he needs
to “discover himself”?)
·
In recent weeks, and even as late as last Wednesday as her husband
acknowledged his long-term affair, friends said this woman had
remained cheerful, gracious, and strong. A friend of two decades
was with her that day and described it as a time “when she exuded,
perhaps as never before, her great strength of character.”
(How is this possible? Why isn’t
she griping, complaining, and crying about the injustice her husband
has perpetrated upon her? Why isn’t she contracting a
first-class divorce attorney so that she can extract every ounce of
blood from the shrew?)
·
Ask by a reporter about what might come of her husband’s career, she
answered: “His career is not a concern of mine. He’s going to have
to worry about that. I’m worried about my family and the character
of my children.” (Totally unbelievable: in the crucible of
temptation, she keeps her priorities straight! What’s
wrong with this woman? Is she crazy? Or, is she some
type of “religious kook”?)
·
Asked by a reporter about her legacy, she answered: “I personally
believe that the greatest legacy I will leave behind in this world
is not the job I held on Wall Street, or the campaigns I managed for
my husband, or the work I have done as First Lady, or even the
philanthropic activities in which I have been routinely engaged.
Instead, the greatest legacy I will leave in this world is the
character of the children I, or we, leave behind. It is for
that reason that I deeply regret the recent actions of my husband,
and their potential damage to our children.” (Why is she not
angry? throwing things? saying awful things about her husband? so
what about the kids? what about alimony? child support? her
lifestyle? and remuneration for all of those lost years when she was
supportive of her husband’s
political aspirations?)
·
“I
believe wholeheartedly in the sanctity, dignity, and importance of
the institution of marriage. I believe that has been consistently
reflected in my actions. When I found out about my husband’s
infidelity, I worked immediately to first seek reconciliation
through forgiveness, and then to work diligently to repair our
marriage. We reached a point where I felt it was important to look
my sons in the eyes and maintain my dignity, self-respect, and my
basic sense of right and wrong. I therefore asked my husband to
leave two weeks ago.”
(Why not
just “dump the bum”? Take the jerk to the cleaners.
That’ll teach him a lesson he won’t soon forget!)
·
“I
believe enduring love is primarily a commitment and an act of will,
and for a marriage to be successful, that commitment must be
reciprocal. I believe my husband has earned a chance to resurrect
our marriage.”
(What?
“Earned a chance to resurrect our marriage”? Are you crazy?
Don’t say that in a deposition or in court, you’ll only lose the
financial security he’s going to have to hand over to you!)
·
“Psalm
127 states that sons are a gift from the Lord and children a reward
from Him. I will continue to pour my energy into raising our sons
to be honorable young men. I remain willing to forgive my husband
completely for his indiscretions and to welcome him back, in time,
if he continues to work toward reconciliation with a true spirit of
humility and repentance.”
(How can anyone forgive a jerk like this? Leopards don’t
change their spots and zebras don’t change their stripes! Your
husband cannot be changed by your witness of fidelity to him!)
·
“This
is a very painful time for us and I would humbly request now that
members of the media respect the privacy of my boys and me as we
struggle together to continue on with our lives and as I seek the
wisdom of Solomon, the strength and patience of Job, and the grace
of God in helping to heal my family.”
(Healing? Get a good divorce attorney and gouge the guy where
it will really hurt him and his lover! Make the both pay!)
·
When asked how she was doing in the aftermath of her husband’s
public confession on Wednesday, she said: “Am I O.K.? You know
what? I have great faith and I have great friends and great
family. We have a good Lord in this world, and I know I’m
going to be fine. Not only will I survive, I’ll thrive.”
(Geez, lady, you’ve
got to be kidding yourself! Yes, there’s the good Lord.
But, what about your financial security? The doors to Fort
Knox are wide open to you. Take advantage of it while you
can!)
You’ve likely already figured out that the woman I am quoting is
Jennifer Sullivan Sanford, the wife of Mark Sanford, the Governor of
South Carolina, who has been engaged in an eight-year affair with a
former television journalist in Buenos Aries, Argentina, Maria Belen
Shappur. She is a divorcee with two sons.
“It
all started out ‘innocently enough.’ We were just ‘friends’,”
Sanford said.
His wife, Jennifer Sullivan Sanford, age 46, is the second of five
children born to a prominent, Irish Catholic family in Winnetka,
Ill., a wealthy suburb of Chicago replete with gated driveways and
palatial homes. Her family is part of Chicago’s landed gentry. Her
paternal grandfather helped in founding the company that made and
sold the first portable electric saw, the Skil Corporation.
Her maternal grandfather and uncle headed the prestigious Winston
and Strawn law firm. There is also a family tie to Rushton Skakel,
Sr., Ethel Kennedy’s brother.
Jennifer Sullivan attended a Catholic all-girls school in Lake
Forest, Illinois. At Georgetown, Jennifer graduated magna cum laude
in 1984 with a finance degree. She was whip smart and a hard
worker. It was during her time working at the investment bank,
Lazard Frères
& Company, that Jennifer Sullivan met Mark Sanford at a beach party
in the Hamptons. “It wasn’t exactly love at first sight,” she once
told The Post and Courier of Charleston, S.C. “It was
more like friendship at first sight.” Five years later, the couple
married. Eventually, they had four sons, Marshall, Landon,
Bolton, and Blake. Despite the wealth and social prestige Jennifer
Sullivan brought to her marriage, she was not one to put on airs.
Friends in South Carolina described Mrs. Sanford as a
“down-to-earth” mother who insisted that her four sons set the
dining room table when they were living inside the governor’s
mansion and had a staff.
By all worldly estimates, Jennifer Sullivan Sanford is a
“child of privilege” and
“has it all.” But, the power of evil has suddenly manifested itself
in her marriage and family life. But, in contrast to the way many
of us respond when the power of evil tests us, Jennifer
Sullivan Sanford is struggling mightily to reconnect her faith to
her daily life and, rather than falling on her knees and begging God
to make everything return to normal, Jennifer Sullivan Sanford seems
to be practicing her religion despite the high price it is exacting
of her. It is almost as if Jesus is walking besides Jennifer
Sullivan Sanford, and when she becomes weary from the glare of the
public media which has cast its bright lights on her husband’s sin
for all to see, Jesus says “Talitha koum,” which means,
“Little girl, I say to you, arise.”
What makes our faith “vital”—that is, living and real—is when we
continuously reconnect it with our daily lives, especially those
moments when the power of evil rears its ugly head and we believe
that God is absent. Evil seeks to destroy the good. Its goal
is nothing short of death. A vital faith leads us through
death so that we might arise to new life, connected to the source of
our faith, God.
“That is definitely her, all her,” said Jennifer Pickens, a friend
of Jennifer Sullivan Sanford for over a decade. “It reeks of her.
She will survive this beautifully.” When the power of evil assaults
us, seeking to ruin and destroy the good with which God has blessed
us, we shall also survive our anguish and pain when we can respond
like Jennifer Sullivan Sanford, “Am I O.K.? You know what? I have
great faith and I have great friends and great family. We have a
good Lord in this world, and I know I’m going to be fine. Not only
will I survive, I’ll thrive.” The people of this world scoff
upon hearing such testimony; but, for people of faith, it’s
divine “music to the ears.”
St. Augustine was once challenged to
identify who and where the saints were in his congregation, meaning
“Where are those people
who truly put their faith into practice?” Looking around his
congregation, St. Augustine said, “I don’t know who they are, but I
do know they are out there. They are the people filled with
the Holy Spirit who forgive others. Those are the ‘saints’.”
In the end, following Jesus means much more than having faith or
mindlessly following his teachings. Following Jesus means that the
person of Jesus Christ, his life and his friendship—his approach to
life and model for living—his works, his suffering, cross, death,
and resurrection provide “the way” to the Father. For many,
what leads to disease—like infidelity—ends in death—like that of a
marriage. But, for those who strive to have a vital and living
faith—a faith which they continuously reconnect with their daily
lives through the practice of their religion—disease that is
believed to lead to death leads through death into the new life
promised in the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead.
The story of Jairus’ daughter speaks not only about the death of a
young girl and Jesus raising her back to life, but also about the
power of evil as it seeks to bring death to the soul, a disease that
affects so many people today and seeks to convince them that this
will be their end. How many people live with anguish and pain
because of divided families, tragedy, and loss! How many people are
caught up in vicious cycles that promise happiness but lead to
death: drugs, abortion, pornography, violence, gangs, and suicide?
Today people are beset with anxiety, discouragement, and other
serious psychological illnesses so that many have forgotten or don’t
even know what joy, love, hope, and truth really mean. They give in
to sadness, pessimism, cynicism, meaninglessness; they desire not to
live and believe only bad things. When we see or hear people
express these as ideals, our hearts grow heavy and sad.
The Book of Wisdom teaches: “God did not make death, nor does God
rejoice in the destruction of the living….But by the envy of the
devil, death entered the world, and they who belong to his company
experience it” (1:13; 2:24). Our faith teaches us not to fear
death. Why? Because it is through death that God raises
us to new life! However, that remains nothing more than a pious
idea unless we are willing to experience death in our daily lives
and learn that it is the channel of grace through which God gives us
new life. By dying to sin we rise to new life. By not giving
in to despair, we allow hope to emerge. By believing the good
news, the bad news is revealed to be corrupt. When Jesus asks
us to arise, this has the power to give ultimate meaning to our
lives. It also makes it possible for us to see the power of
evil for what it is―like
Jennifer Sullivan Sanford―and
to repeat Jesus’ cry: “Talitha koum,” that is, “Arise! Live
again! Love again! You are God’s
beloved!”
That is what Jennifer Sullivan Sanford’s vibrant faith seems to be
strengthening her to do as she looks upon her infidel husband. The
First Lady of South Carolina appears to believe in the promise of
faith as the deceit of this world seeks to convince her otherwise.
From the perspective of the world, it doesn’t
make any sense, does it? But, from the perspective of what our
religion teaches,
do
we possess her vibrant faith when, like Jennifer Sullivan Sanford,
we
aren’t
assured of the outcome? |
HOMILY
