Solidarity during this time

This is my homily for this weekend, the 6th Sunday in Ordinary Time, Cycle A.  The readings for the weekend are here.  In addition, our parish's recording of this week's mass is here, for at least the next day or two, on the St. Edna Parish website.  I give this homily (or something like it) in the recording.

"I will not leave you orphans.” As we approach the end of our Easter Season, we see that God the Father and Jesus are preparing us for what comes next.  Or should I say: Who comes next.  And it seems that who comes next is … the Holy Spirit.  If you recall how this season ends: next weekend we celebrate Jesus ascension into heaven.  Then, the following weekend we celebrate Pentecost, when the Holy Spirit came upon the apostles and other friends of Jesus, and the church was born.  And here we are today – still here, 2,000 years later, looking now to the Holy Spirit to tell us how to be a church in these strange times.

It seems that Jesus doesn’t really want to be apart from us, either.  “I will not leave you orphans.”  It’s quite interesting that he doesn’t say, “In a little while I will be going away.”  Instead, he says, “in a little while the world will no longer see me, but you will see me …”.    Even after his Ascension into heaven, he’s not really going away.  But he’ll no longer be visible to the world.

Here we are today; and he’s still visible to us who have faith – to us who believe.   But the ways we experience him today may be different than how his first followers experienced his presence when he walked among the people of Galilee and Judea.  Yet, though faith, we know that, even though we don’t see him walking bodily down our block, he is still here among us.  He has not left us orphans.  He remains with us preeminently in the Eucharist and the sacraments.  We hope those will be available to us again very soon.  He also remains with us in his Word.  And he remains with us in one another.

It is that last thing that I’d like to say a few words about: how Jesus remains with us in one another.  We have become that bodily presence, on our blocks, in our communities, and in our workplaces and schools, even when they are now virtual.  We are that bodily presence when we love and support one another, and love all of our neighbors as ourselves. 

One of the ways that we love one another is by showing solidarity with those who are in need.  “Solidarity” is a word which I wish we heard more in our everyday lives, because that might be a sign that we’ve embraced it.  In Catholic thought, solidarity means that we stand together to help our neighbors, especially those who are hurting or in trouble or vulnerable in some way.   When we live in solidarity with others, we’re even willing to sacrifice our own comfort or social position to help those who aren’t as comfortable or well-off.

During this time of COVID-19, solidarity is being demanded of us all.  We’re being called to stand with those who are most vulnerable.  But how to do that isn’t always intuitive.  For example: there is controversy stirring in our society today over the wearing of masks in public places.  Some people are bridling at the social and even legal pressure to wear a mask.  I can understand that feeling; I also don’t like being told what to do.  But we can look at this question through the lens of solidarity.  I’d like to suggest that choosing to wear a mask in public is an act of solidarity.  Consider that the purpose of my wearing a mask is not primarily to protect my health from others who are infected; the experts tell us that the masks probably aren’t very effective for that.  No, the purpose of the mask is to prevent infections from traveling in the other direction: in case I am infected without knowing it, the mask may prevent me from infecting others.  Wearing a mask can be a sacrificial act of love for those around me – it is an act of solidarity; it’s saying, “I’m subordinating my comfort and convenience to the well-being of my neighbors.”

This faith community continues to show great solidarity with those in our local community who are less fortunate.  Every day, food donations arrive in our food donation bins outside the main entrance at Door 6.  And every Saturday, food pantry and Outreach volunteers, some of whom are putting their own health at risk to serve others, are distributing the food and the gift cards and the financial assistance that members of this community have donated.  I’m sorry to say, business is booming.  We’re serving as many clients on the one day per week, Saturday, when we’re still open for distribution, as we formerly served during the course of a full week of service.  And we’re distributing a record amount of food; hunger is increasing in our community as people are put out of work.  As quickly as your donations fill the shelves of our pantry, they’re being emptied to feed our hungry neighbors.  Thank you for your donations of food, and please keep them coming.

In coming days, St. Edna will start to reopen, very slowly and gradually.  Many things about coming here for sacraments and prayer will be different.   We’re still figuring out all the details, but we’re quite sure that, even when we gather here, in very small groupings at first, we’ll need to practice social distancing, and use hand sanitizer, and wear masks.  Our natural instinct is to resist these things; we want things to go back to how they were before.  Perhaps they will someday, but not quite yet.  And so I would urge us to embrace these restrictions and requirements as acts of love for one another.  We’re not doing these things for ourselves.  We’re looking to protect the health and the lives of others.  These are acts of solidarity with one another. 

Jesus did not leave us orphans.  He is still here with us.  I hope you are able to experience his spiritual presence, even mediated through a television or computer or mobile screen.  Through our love and solidarity for one another, let us be mediators of his presence to one another.