Homily from the Parish Priest for the Fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time
Readings for Year B: Job 7:1-7; I Corinthians 9:16-23; Mark 1:29-39
The cry of the dejected: "why me? When I have done nothing to deserve it" - "I can't even explain God's action in terms of retribution" – “why so much suffering, seemingly indiscriminate deaths too young in life; the torment of mental illness, breakdown, loneliness”: “why?” and we can go on and on - "why do we suffer?" - "why do we have to die?" - "why the tragedies, the injustices, of this pandemic?” "Why does God punish the innocent or allow the innocent to be punished?"
It's the all too human tragic depression of Job: "Is not our life on earth…drudgery?" "Lying in bed I wonder, ‘When will it be day?’ Risen I think, ‘How slowly evening comes!’ Restlessly I fret till twilight falls”. But Job has hit on something very real to us. Up to that point in the history of God's dealings with his people, the chosen people had indeed believed that this was a God who would reward the upright and not those who had fallen away as though we could do anything to affect God's care of us, as though we could somehow change God's mind as though we were perhaps movers and shakers in heaven. And so here with this miserable creature Job we see a creator and provider who is, yes, involved in human lives still, yes, caring deeply for us, yet a God who does not give rewards in any way we can humanly understand, a God who in the face of human suffering and misery comes not simply to work miracles and wonders and take the injustice of suffering away but who in mystery, because God is God, comes to us as we are in our broken-heartedness with healing as we are, with healing and with compassion.
If in God's coming to us in Jesus Christ we look for wonder-working, a magical cleansing of all human tragedy forever, a utopia, we will hit on the very same disappointments as did the first disciples. "Let us go to the neighbouring towns", says Jesus in the Gospel story today, “so I can preach there too, because that is why I came." He comes to us not so much to make things perfect - they never will be - not so much to work miracles – the disciples believed they knew God does this again and again in our lives - but that's not so important: rather in a way we can't fathom he comes to be with us in suffering and - and this is the point of much of Mark's Gospel - to die as we surely will and to reconcile us to God so we find peace and rest.
Peace in Jesus Christ who wants to lighten whatever darkness we experience. Rest because we are restless without him. Faith that in the mystery of his cross our creator, provider and saviour can here and now give us the grace to know what we can change and what we cannot, yet to know that only he whose body will be broken once more on this altar can heal whatever is broken in our hearts.
Fr Dominic Robinson SJ