Memorial St. Francis Xavier Seelos, Monday, Week 27 OT October 5, 2020
Fr. Albert St. Peter’s, New Iberia
Disgusting. Probably dead or will be soon, the man oozing fluids on the side of the road should be avoided. I’ve got to get to work… I’ve got to stay clean so I can keep my responsibilities… I’m too rushed and it won’t help anyway. Maybe going over there will put me in danger too.
These thoughts, or something like them, probably went through the minds of the priest and Levite as they passed by the beaten man. In 1866, many residents of New Orleans thoughts similar things as they fled the city, avoiding people infected with the dreaded yellow fever virus. With a mortality rate as high as 50% in some circumstances, people had good reason to stay away and I have no doubt many priests did just that.
But not Francis Xavier Seelos. Born in Bavaria, now part of Germany, Francis grew up Catholic and was inspired by missionaries who belonged to a religious order called the Redemptorists. He joined them and was sent to minister to German speaking immigrants in the United States. He spent most of his time in Pittsburg where he became well known for a simple lifestyle, love of the poor, love of teaching children, good preaching, great confessions, and general holiness.
He moved a few times but ended up in New Orleans during a small outbreak of Yellow Fever. To the surprise of no one who knew him, Francis tirelessly ministered to people dying from this terrible disease. This man probably found the yellow skin and vomiting of victims to be disgusting, but he did not avoid his duty as a priest to care for the sick and dying. Known as the “cheerful ascetic,” Francis had long practiced various forms of asceticism – penance and sacrifice – which helped him to get over his own comfort for the sake of loving his neighbor.
Well, he caught the disease and died in 1867, within a year of getting to New Orleans. This man lived as the good Samaritan from the parable and even better, because the Samaritan only sacrificed his money and never risked his life. We call the Samaritan good, but we call Francis Seelos “blessed.” That means there is at least one approved miracle since his death. If and when any of the current investigations can prove that the other miracles are legitimate, we will call him “Saint.”
And what of you, dear seniors? As we honor you, giving you these rings as a sign of having gotten to the top of the school, what do you hope to be called? Leader? Honor Student? All-Star Athlete? Graduate? Cool? Smart? Funny? Cute? So many titles and adjectives that the world can offer, which do you choose?
And of course the question you always hear, one I ask myself, what do you want to be, to do with your life after High School? Nurses, Veterinarians, Businessmen, Engineers. Most of the time we are asking what job you want to do, but we should learn from this scholar whose question to Jesus gave us one of the greatest parables of all time. “Teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life?” In other words, what will make me happy? The answer, of course, is love. Love God first of all, with all you’ve got. Then love your neighbor. Everything else is a waste. If you can’t connect your career to love of God or neighbor, it won’t make you happy, no matter how successful you are.
And the opportunity to love our neighbors are abundant. Seelos often fasted, deliberately chose to make himself physically uncomfortable, practiced all sorts of penance not because he hated himself but because he wanted so badly to love God and his neighbor without selfishness getting in the way. Self-denial is required to love someone else. If you aren’t telling yourself no for the sake of someone else, you probably don’t really love them… you just love the way they make you feel. To love is to do what’s best for them, even if they are the ones asking you to do the wrong thing because you both enjoy it. Love in this world requires self-denial and risk or it’s not love.
The current pandemic might provide some opportunity for this. The symptoms of covid and yellow fever can be disgusting and cause people to want to stay away. For most of you most of the time, you should stay away because the one you’re putting at risk is not yourself, but your older family and friends. There might be times when love demands you take the risk, but you should be more worried about the pandemic of hatred and suspicion.
Rather than a person with a disease or someone beat-up and bloody on the side of the road, you should look out for the weirdos, the socially outcast, those on the “other side” even if we find them disgusting. I would die defending the Church’s teaching, but I also know I should be willing to die out of love for those who reject it as Christ did for those who crucified him. Democrat or Republican, they should know you love them. Pro-choice or pro-life, they should see your compassion for their suffering. Whether they like men, women, or something else, they should see your concern for their well-being.
There’s a graced art to loving someone without supporting the sins of their lifestyle – it’s a beauty rarely seen. The world is chock full of the ugliness of sin and dehumanizing hatred, so it truly needs artists willing to produce that beauty. For some of you, the hard part will be clinging to the truth, denying your own affections enough to avoid telling someone you love that their sin is not a sin. For others, that hard part will be forcing an act of kindness towards the person you know is an enemy to everything you know to be true.
Good art, especially the art of living both truth and love, requires work and it requires suffering. Dear seniors, I’m proud of you… I’ve seen in potential and in reality that you’re capable of such love. I urge you with these words, with the sacrifice of this Mass, with my prayers to be leaders, upperclassman above all in this love. Yes, that means I’m telling you to suffer. To suffer self-denial, to suffer from a world that hates what we believe, to suffer with the help of grace, of God’s power to turn that suffering into joy, into pure, selfless, and everlasting love. Jesus has treated us with mercy by doing this for us. I tell you, go and do likewise.