Homily for the 5th Sunday of Ordinary Time (Year A) (go to readings)
Today, February 8, is the Feast Day of Saint Josephine Margaret Bakhita. She is the patron saint of those affected by the nightmare of human trafficking and modern slavery, which affects an estimated 50 million people in today’s world. Bakhita was born in Sudan about 1869 as the daughter of the tribal chieftain of the Daju people. Because of her family’s prominence in the village, she recalled that she grew up happy and that as a child, she did not know suffering.
Sometime about the year 1877, Bakhita was kidnapped by Arab slave traders, and although she was just a child, she was forced with others to make a 600-mile barefoot march to the capital city, and she was sold at least twice just on the journey. Over the following twelve years she would be sold to different families over a dozen times, sometimes being beaten so badly, scarred and branded, and being incapacitated by her injuries, that she had forgotten her childhood name, and was given the name Bakhita, which means “fortunate”.
Eventually, in 1883, she was bought by an Italian ambassador to Sudan, who took her back to Venice, Italy, and they treated her well. When he and his wife had to travel back to Sudan, they entrusted Bakhita to stay with a local community of nuns, the Canossian Sisters in Venice.
Staying with the sisters, she had a voracious appetite for their Christian faith, and she came believe. She said that she had always believed in God, but didn’t know who he was. The sisters answered her questions, and she was deeply moved by her time with them and wanted to become Christian herself. About this time, the ambassador and his wife returned to Venice and came to reclaim Bakhita from the sisters, but she refused to leave. The ambassador spent several days trying to convince her, before complaining to the authorities. The case went to court, and the court ruled that British-owned Sudan had outlawed slavery before Bakhita was born, and the Italian government had never recognized slavery as legal, therefore Bakhita was a free person.
She immediately joined the Canossian Sisters and prepared for the sacraments of initiation into the Church, which she received from Cardinal Giuseppe Sarto, who had argued in her favor in court, and who in 1903 became Pope Pius X, and she was baptized Josephine Margaret Fortunata. Throughout the rest of her 42 years, Josephine was known for her calm voice, her joy, and her smile. Whenever someone asked her how she was, she answered, “As the master wishes.” She had several speaking engagements to the sisters preparing to do mission work in Africa. It was said, “her mind was always on God, and her heart in Africa.” Her special charisma and reputation for sanctity were noticed by her order. During the Second World War, she shared the fears and hopes of the townspeople, who considered her a saint and felt protected by her presence. Bombs damaged the town, but without a single casualty. She died on February 8, 1947. For three days, her body lay in repose while thousands of people arrived to pay their respects. She was canonized as a saint by Pope John Paul II in 2000.
I believe it is important for us to know the saints beyond just their names. They are our brothers and sisters in our Christian family, and they are our heroes for our inspiration and imitation as we strive to be the saints we are called to be. In 2007, Pope Benedict XVI used her story as part of his encyclical on hope, “Spe salve”. “Caritas Bakhita House” in London, which provides accommodation and support for women escaping human trafficking, is named in her honor. In 2023, Canadian sculptor Timothy Schmalz centered his human-trafficking sculpture “Let the Oppressed Go Free” on Bakhita, depicting her opening a trapdoor releaseing captives, representing the hidden, underground nature of modern human trafficking and slavery.
Today, the Knights of Columbus, working with the Arise Foundation, are working hard around the world, especially in those places hard hit by human trafficking: The Philippines, a global hub for human trafficking and sex slavery, Nigeria, with the terrorist group Boko Haram and other jihadist groups causing 3 million displaced persons, creating circumstances ripe for trafficking, and the war in Ukraine, with women and children being abducted by traffickers falsely promising them transportation to safety. Bishop Senior has the problem of human trafficking close to his heart, as he has promoted talks and prayer services on this topic throughout our diocese. The Church’s work, particularly through the Knights of Columbus, are witness to the Church’s desire to honor and protect the inalienable dignity (of all human life, not just the vulnerable unborn life in the womb, as we are often accused), but all human life, in every stage and every condition, as a sacred gift to be honored and protected. Hopefully you have seen the movie, “Sound of Freedom.” If you haven’t, it’s a difficult but important movie. Jim Caviezel portrays the true story of Tim Ballard, a former US government agent who embarks on a mission to rescue children from sex traffickers in South America. And today, February 8, the Feast Day of St. Josephine Bakhita, is, for the Church, the International Day of Prayer and Awareness Against Human Trafficking.
I spent the time talking about this because it is an excellent example of the message of our readings today, to be the salt of the earth and the light of the world. We will often hear people described as “real salt of the earth people” in the sense that they’re basically good, simple folks. But Jesus meant more than that. Salt does three things (if it isn’t ruined by impurities and robbed of its effectiveness).
It preserves that which it salts. Salt was used to keep meat fresh before we had refrigerators. It kept the food from going bad. We as Christians are called to preserve the world by how we live in it, in the values we live out, in contradiction to the values of the world darkened by sin.
Salt adds flavor. Salt is in almost everything: French fries and fast food, obviously, snack food, cheese, frozen dinners, and if it doesn’t have salt, we often add salt. Salt not only adds flavor, but brings out the natural flavor of food. We as Christians are called to bring out the best flavor of humanity, to encourage people in the gifts and charisms of their character, as well as the best things about life in this world, recognizing them as gifts and blessings from God, and celebrating them. Even our sufferings can be honored as helping us to grow in holiness and closeness with Jesus who suffered for us.
Salt heals. Particularly in saltwater form, salt aids healing through antiseptic, anti-inflammatory, and absorption properties that cleanse wounds, soothe skin conditions, reduce muscle fatigue, and alleviate sore throats. Obviously, as Christians, we are called to heal the world, again, by how we live in it, exercising our faith in the world, holding to our moral ground against the mockery and opposition of the world. And also, by our prayer, worship and celebration of the Mass, by which the healing and saving grace of the Paschal Mystery of Christ continues to be made present in the world.
We know that Jesus is the Light of the World. But in our gospel reading, Jesus says to us, “You are the light of the world.” Of course, we are the light of the world by shining forth the light of Christ, as the moonlight is only a reflection of light from the sun. So Christ calls us to be the ongoing reflection of his life and ministry in our world. And Jesus adds, “A city set on a mountain (or “a city set on a hill”) cannot be hidden. Nor do they light a lamp and then put it under a bushel basket; it is set on a lampstand, where it gives light to all in the house.” Which means yes, we have the light of truth, the light of salvation, but it’s not just for us; it’s for us to shine for others to see, to guide their lives by, to be attracted to in the darkness of their own situation, and have hope, have meaning, have life. Not for our own sake. But why? Jesus says, “Just so, your light must shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your heavenly Father.” So that they, too, can have faith in God, the source of all goodness, all faith, hope, and love, and healing, and life. Jerusalem, of course, was a city set on a hill, on Mt. Zion, and the Israelites were called to be the bright, shining example to the world by the wisdom of their laws and society. And the New Israel, the Church, is called to be so, even more.
And what is that light? We see it in our First Reading from the Old Testament: “Thus says the LORD: Break bread with the hungry, shelter the oppressed and the homeless; clothe the naked when you see them, and do not turn your back on your own. Then your light shall break forth like the dawn… If you remove from your midst oppression, false accusation and malicious speech; if you bestow your bread on the hungry and satisfy the afflicted; then light shall rise for you in the darkness…” These instructions are among what the Church calls the “corporal and spiritual works of mercy,” the way in which we shine with the glory of heavenly wisdom and goodness, shine with the light of Christ’s love for the world, for others, our families, our neighbors, our enemies, and strangers, like the parable of the Good Samaritan, Jesus’ answer to the question, “Who, then, is my neighbor?”
We are called to be salt because salt changes that which it salts, it is different than that which it salts, and so it can have the beneficial effect of salt. Light shines bright in darkness. These are signs to us of Jesus preparing us to be treated like him: a sign that others will try to contradict, a voice that others will try to silence, a light that others will try to extinguish. And that is when the Church most needs to be the Church: the sign of the cross, the voice of the prophet, the light of truth, love, and hope.
BONUS: My favorite excerpt from G. K. Chesterton's "St. Thomas Aquinas"
The Saint is a medicine because he is an antidote. Indeed that is why the saint is often a martyr; he is mistaken for a poison because he is an antidote. He will generally be found restoring the world to sanity by exaggerating whatever the world neglects, which is by no means always the same element in every age. Yet each generation seeks its saint by instinct; and he is not what the people want, but rather what the people need.
This is surely the very much mistaken meaning of those words to the first saints, "Ye are the salt of the earth," which caused the Ex-Kaiser to remark with all solemnity that his beefy Germans were the salt of the earth; meaning thereby merely that they were the earth's beefiest and therefore best. But salt seasons and preserves beef, not because it is like beef; but because it is very unlike it. Christ did not tell his apostles that they were only the excellent people, or the only excellent people, but that they were the exceptional people; the permanently incongruous and incompatible people; and the text about the salt of the earth is really as sharp and shrewd and tart as the taste of salt. It is because they were the exceptional people, that they must not lose their exceptional quality. "If salt lose its savour, wherewith shall it be salted?" is a much more pointed question than any mere lament over the price of the best beef. If the world grows too worldly, it can be rebuked by the Church; but if the Church grows too worldly, it cannot be adequately rebuked for worldliness by the world.
Therefore it is the paradox of history that each generation is converted by the saint who contradicts it most.
The Snarky Vicar 