Homily for Sunday Ordinary 8 C

It’s the beam in our own eye that makes the world look splintered. You know how it is with pointing fingers, one is pointed, but three are pointing back at you.

I have Mass on Sunday, March 2nd at St. Isidore @ 7:30/9:30 am

The 7:30 am Mass will be live-streamed https://stisidore.church/worship-online/

frjoedailey@mac.com

Transcript

A reading from the Holy Gospel according to Luke. 

Jesus told his disciples a parable. Can a blind person guide a blind person? Will not both fall into a pit? No disciple is superior to the teacher, but when fully trained, every disciple will be like his teacher. 

Why do you notice the splinter in your brother's eye, but do not perceive the wooden beam in your own? How can you say to your brother, "Brother, let me remove that splinter in your eye," when you do not even notice the wooden beam in your own eye? You hypocrite. Remove the wooden beam from your eye first, and then you will see clearly to remove the splinter in your brother's eye. 

A good tree does not bear rotten fruit, nor does a rotten tree bear good fruit. For every tree is known by its fruit. For people do not pick figs from thorn bushes, nor do they gather grapes from brambles. 

A good person, out of the store of goodness in his heart, produces good. But an evil person, out of a store of evil, produces evil. For from the fullness of the heart, the mouth speaks. 

The Gospel of the Lord. 

Those of us who wear glasses know that we'll just keep looking through our smudged lenses until we finally get tired of not being able to see clearly and clean our glasses. If there's a smudge on the lens, the world will look smudged. Or to use Jesus' wonderful metaphor, if there's a log in your own eye, you will see logs everywhere. It's the beam in our own eye that makes the world look splintered. You know how it is with pointing fingers. One is pointed, but three are pointing back at you. 

Eve and Adam were forbidden to eat of the fruit of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil. Their seeing was blurred, however, by the suggestion that the serpent put in their eyes, "Oh, you won't die. Your eyes will be opened, and you will be like God." Their eyes were opened all right, but all they saw was that they were naked, and they hid from God. This knowledge of good and evil is about making judgments, and it is that knowledge that isolates and separates us. 

Remember what Jesus taught us last week? "The measure you give will be the measure you get back." When we look at the world through unhealthy eyes, we naturally conclude that the problem with the world is out there. Jesus holds up a mirror, inviting us to look first into our own eyes. 

Dr. Rachel Naomi Remen tells the story of Josh, a brilliant but depressed surgeon who came to her for help. "I can barely make myself get out of bed most mornings," Josh told her. "I hear the same complaints day after day. I see the same diseases over and over again." 

Remen suggested a spiritual practice, journaling the events of the day. In the evening, he should revisit the day from a new perspective, in particular, recalling the day through three questions. What surprised me today? What moved me or touched me today? What inspired me today? Josh was dubious. Remen encouraged him. "Less expensive than Prozac," she said, laughing. He agreed to try. 

At first, nothing happened. Every night, the same three answers. Nothing, nothing, and nothing. Rachel gave him some advice. Try looking at the people around you as if you were a novelist, a journalist, or maybe a poet. Look for the stories. 

After about six weeks, Josh brought his journal to share with Rachel. At first, he was only able to see people in hindsight. At night, when the day was done, he would look back through the eyeglasses of his three questions and see what he could not see when he was in the midst of it. But then, gradually, he began to see the inspiring, the moving, and the surprising as it was happening. This was a major growth for him and made possible the next step. 

He began to say what he saw. He talked about more than the disease. He talked to people about their minds and spirits as they walked with their sickness. The journaling had produced an inner change, and now the inner change was producing a behavioral change. 

The first patient he spoke to in this way was a 38-year-old woman with ovarian cancer who had undergone major abdominal surgery followed by a very debilitating chemotherapy. In the midst of a routine follow-up visit one morning, he suddenly saw her for the first time, her 4-year-old on her lap and her 6-year-old leaning against her, both generally. Children were shiny, clean, well-fed, happy, and obviously well-loved. Aware of the profound suffering caused by her sort of chemotherapy, he was deeply moved by the depth of her commitment to mother her children, and for the first time he connected it to the strength of her will to live. You are such a great mother to your kids, he told her. Even after all you have been through, there's something very strong in you. I think that power could maybe heal you someday. She smiled at him, and he realized with a shock that he had never seen her smile before. "Thank you," she told him warmly. "That means a lot to me." 

He began to ask other people, "What has sustained you in dealing with this illness?" or "Where do you find your strength?" Things that he really wanted to hear about. "I knew cancer very well, but I did not know people before." 

He told Rachel that for the first time in his career people had begun to thank him for their surgery, and some have even given him gifts. He sat in silence for a few minutes, and then he reached into his pocket and brought out a beautiful stethoscope engraved with his name. "A patient gave me this," he said. Obviously moved. I smiled at him. And what do you do with that, Josh? He looked at me, puzzled, for a moment, and then he laughed out loud. "I listen to hearts, Rachel. I listen to hearts." 

"Out of the store of goodness in their heart, the good person produces good. But an evil person out of a store of evil produces evil, for from the fullness of the heart the mouth speaks."