Fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time

Readings of the day: RB 7:51-54

Mass: Job 7:1-4, 6-7; Resp. Psalm 147; 1 Cor 9:16-19, 22-23; Mark 1:29-39

Sr Godelieve on her daily walk

From an early age I developed an affinity for ‘older’ people. This may be due to being the youngest in a large family; one constantly exposed to ‘older than I’ people—the environment in which I grew up; an experience for which I am grateful. Our neighborhood, too, was abuzz with small people and big people in the mix. ‘Older’ people were constantly coming and going in our house, including friends of my parents (most of whom would be in their 90s by now). I was always in their midst and learned how to respect my parents’ friends; how to ‘behave’ (not sure I was so successful at this) in their presence and address them appropriately. When I think of these women and men, I still call them Mr and Mrs so and so. I still recall by name all the women in my mom’s Bridge Club! As a result, I have never really thought of these people as ‘old’ per se. They are simply men and women whom I came to love. In fact, to this day, when I return to my hometown to visit my sibs, I stay with the parents of a sister-in-law. I’ve known them forever it seems—they are always happy to see me. I like to hang out with them so to speak, and they humor me by letting me mow the lawn, or go out to “Pete’s” with their friends on Friday night. They are dear—I love them. 

When I entered the monastery 18 years ago, I was immediately drawn to the older sisters. As I look back, my best friends in community have always been the elders. Adding to my affinity for the elders was a special reverence for the infirmed. Immediately after I made my First Monastic Profession, the Prioress told to go the Infirmary to receive a blessing from the sisters there. It became customary for me, then, upon returning from a trip to make the Infirmary my first stop. What a gift for me to be welcomed by ‘my people’ as I like to call them. Hanging out in the infirmary became a favorite pastime. This was even extended to the Nursing Center next to the monastery. Being with the folks on ‘Memory Lane’ is something I sorely miss.

Now I am gifted with the opportunity to wake the eldest in our community from her nightly slumber. She happens to be 94 years old—sharp in mind, a lifelong learner, a delight. She goes with and eggs on my playfulness upon first waking. More often than not, we are giggling sooner rather than later. It may be her speaking in French, or telling me about her dream, or my customary, ‘How did you sleep?’.

This brings me to today’s Gospel account of Jesus loving the infirmed. Jesus was a young man with an obvious affinity for the infirmed, many of whom were likely older than he. He touched them, laughed with them, loved them unconditionally. The infirmed are His people. Jesus sees these people not as untouchables, or those to ‘put up with’, or scream at because they ‘can’t remember’ or ‘can’t hear’. Jesus sees them as sheep without a shepherd; sheep who crave love and affection. Come to think of it, we are those sheep who crave love. All of us. I am reminded of words from Pope Benedict XVI, already included in the post of December 9, 2017: ‘Seeing with the eyes of Christ, I can give to others much more than their outward necessities; I can give them the look of love which they crave’ (Encyclical Letter Deus Caritas Est, 18). The people gathered at the door of Jesus; they pursued Him wherever He went; His people found Him! We may or may not find ourselves with physical infirmities such as fevers, aches and pains, lameness, terminal illness, leprosy, or the like. What all of us find ourselves with are spiritual and emotional infirmities such as depression, isolation, neglect, loneliness—all wounds of one kind or the other. What is important to remember, no matter our condition, is: We are ‘Jesus’ kind of people—young and old alike. He waits to embrace us; grasp our hand; help us up; give us the look of love we crave; heal our wounds, Indeed, ‘Christ took away our infirmities and bore our diseases.’ ALLELUIA.

Jesus wants us to be found by those who look for Him.

But to look for Him we have to get up and go out.

(Pope Francis, Tweet, February 4, 2018)