Second Sunday in Ordinary Time
Today’s Invitation
Today we invite you to explore the phrase “Here I Am” with the help of Jewish philosopher Emmanuel Levinas; engage the Catholic Social Teaching principle of subsidiary, and its implications for harm reduction; and embody these ideas with the help of the Catholic Sisters of Charity, the Vancouver Area Network of Drug Users (VANDU), and the AIDS Memorial Quilt.
Second Sunday in Ordinary Time
Reading 1
The lamp of YHWH had not gone out,
and Samuel was sleeping in the Tent of Meeting, near Ark of the Covenant.
Then YHWH called to Samuel.
Samuel answered, “Here I am!” and ran to Eli saying,
“You called. Here I am!”
Eli said, “I did not call you. Now go back to sleep.”
He went back to sleep.
A second time YHWH called Samuel, and he got up and went to Eli.
“Here I am,” Samuel said, “You called me.”
Eli repeated, “I did not call you. Go back to sleep.”
At that time Samuel had not yet encountered YHWH,
and the word of YHWH had not yet been revealed to him.
YHWH called Samuel a third time, and Samuel got up, went to Eli,
and said once more, “Here I am. You called me.”
Then Eli realized that YHWH was calling the boy.
So he said to Samuel, “Go back and go to sleep, and if you are called, say,
‘Speak, YHWH, for your servant is listening.’ ”
So Samuel went back to sleep.
And YHWH called, “Samuel! Samuel!”
And Samuel replied, “Yes, YHWH, I am listening.”
As Samuel grew, YHWH was with him.
None of Samuel’s words remained unfulfilled.
Responsorial Psalm
Response: Here am I, Adonai, I come to do Your will.
I waited and waited for You, Adonai!
Now at last You have stooped to me / and heard my cry for help. Adonai,
You have put a new song in my mouth, / a song of praise.
R: Here am I, Adonai, I come to do Your will.
You, who wanted no sacrifice or oblation, / opened my ear;
You asked no burnt offering or sacrifice for sin.
Then I said, “Here I am! I have come!”
R: Here am I, Adonai, I come to do Your will.
In the scroll of the book it is prescribed for me / to obey Your will.
My God, I have always loved Your Law / from the depths of my being.
R: Here am I, Adonai, I come to do Your will.
I have always proclaimed the justice of Our God / in the Great Assembly,
Nor do I mean to stop proclaiming, / as You know well.
R: Here am I, Adonai, I come to do Your will.
Reading 2
“Food is for the stomach and the stomach for food,
and God will do away with them both in the end” —
but the body is not for immorality;
it is for God, and God is for the body.
God, who raised Jesus from the dead,
will raise us also by the same power.
Do you not see that your bodies are members of Christ?
Whoever is joined to Christ becomes one spirit with Christ.
Shun lewd conduct.
Every other sin a person commits is outside that person’s body,
but sexual sins are sins against one’s own body.
You must know that your body is a temple of the Holy Spirit,
who is within you — the Spirit you have received from God.
You are not your own. You have been bought with a price.
So glorify God in your body.
Gospel
The next day, John was by the Jordan again with two of his disciples.
Seeing Jesus walk by, John said, “Look! There’s the Lamb of God!”
The two disciples heard what John said and followed Jesus.
When Jesus turned around and noticed these disciples following, he asked them,
“What are you looking for?”
They replied, “Rabbi” — which means “Teacher” — “where are you staying?”
“Come and see,” Jesus answered.
So they went to see where he was staying, and they spent the rest of the day with him.
It was about four in the afternoon.
One of the two who had followed Jesus after hearing John was Andrew,
Simon Peter’s brother.
The first thing Andrew did was to find Simon Peter and say,
“We have found the Messiah!” — which means “the Anointed One.”
Andrew brought Simon to Jesus, who looked hard at him and said,
“You are Simon, begot of Jonah; I will call you ‘Rock’” — that is, “Peter.”
The Inclusive Lectionary © 2022 FutureChurch. All rights reserved.
The inclusive language psalms:
Leach, Maureen, O.S.F. and Schreck, Nancy, O.S.F., Psalms Anew: A Non-sexist Edition
(Dubuque, IA: The Sisters of St. Francis, 1984).
Used with permission.
Explore
Here I am. You called me.
In the dark unknown of night, Samuel speaks these words to Eli in the first reading. It turns out, it was God calling to Samuel, and that night’s encounter with God began Samuel’s life journey as a prophet. “Here I am” is a phrase that other prophets in the Hebrew bible speak in the presence of God, such as Moses at the burning bush and Abraham when God calls him to take his son Isaac up the mountain as an offering. There’s an almost unearthly faith required to respond in this way, a radical giving over of oneself.
At the core of Jewish existentialist philosopher Emmanuel Levinas’s thought is that ethics is the ‘first philosophy,’ meaning our ethical duty to one another precedes thinking or knowledge. His ethical philosophy focuses on the encounter with the Other and how we respond to the one who, in their radical need, makes a demand of me.
The response of “Here I am,” according to Levinas, is one of the most ethical we can give. The ‘Other’ that Levinas writes of has connotations of being the orphan, child, widow – those who have a particular vulnerability and nakedness that God calls us to protect and remember: “My position as I consists in being able to respond to this essential destitution of the Other, finding resources for myself” Levinas writes in Totality and Infinity (1961). “The Other who dominates me in his transcendence is thus the stranger, the widow, and the orphan, to whom I am obliged.”
In the Hebrew Bible (Old Testament), the command to welcome the stranger is mentioned 37 times, while the command to love the neighbor is mentioned only twice. The stranger is someone who is totally unfamiliar, unknown and unassimilable to me, and they are who I am called to respond “Here I am” to. It is an inexhaustible responsibility throughout one’s life to respond in this way, never a contract to be fulfilled.
The holy call and response of “Here I am” is woven into Hebrew letters and language itself. In The Book of Letters: A Mystical Alef-bait, Lawrence Kushner writes about the ancient Hebrew letter “Hay” of the word Hineni, a word/phrase meaning “Here am I.” “While everyone can say, ‘I am present,’ only a very few can say ‘Here am I,’” he writes. “For to answer ‘Here am I’ means that you no longer belong only to yourself. To answer ‘Here am I’ means that you give the Hay of your being over to the One who calls. That is why Hay is the letter most often linked with God’s name.”
Speak, for your servant is listening. Here am I. Listening and ready to act, not to appease my guilt or to perform my goodness but to genuinely be a servant to the Other who calls out to me. Sometimes the only ethical thing we can say in the face of suffering and injustice is, your servant is listening, here I am.
Commentary by Cassidy Klein
Engage Catholic Social Teaching
Saying “Here I am” to another is the root of solidarity, recognizing that who I am and how I live my life is utterly bound in another’s and I’m called to respond to their specific need, finding the resources to do so.
This ideal of saying “Here I am” in the face of suffering speaks to the Catholic Social Teaching tenet of subsidiarity. This tenant speaks to the immediacy and personalism to which we should respond to others, and speaks to models of hyperlocal care like mutual aid. The Catechism of the Catholic Church (#1919) says that “The principle of subsidiarity is a teaching according to which a community of a higher order should not interfere in the internal life of a community of a lower order, depriving the latter of its functions, but rather should support it in case of need.”
Basically, people who are daily affected by issues in their community have the greatest understanding of what they need through their own lived experience, and governments, nonprofits or institutions should always listen, first, to what they say they need and not interfere with local community efforts, but rather support them.
An example of the tenets of subsidiarity being practiced in recent history and today by and for suffering people is harm reduction. Harm reduction is a concept that started and took hold in the 1980s during the AIDS pandemic, especially in Ontario, British Columbia, and New York City through supervised and safe injection sites, medical supervision, mental health and community services. Many people were dying from opioid overdoses, and those who survived proclaimed that the idea to just “not use drugs” and hide drug usage actually causes more harm and stigma.
Faith communities, in particular, have resources and an ethical framework to engage in harm reduction efforts. Erica Poelott writes:
“[harm reduction] is a hospitality that seeks people out, meets them where they are and invites them into loving community…harm reduction is love that stands with awe at the hardships that people carry, rather than stands in judgment at how they carry it. The most effective and ethical harm reduction practices respect the agency of [people who use drugs], treat them as whole persons, and center the lived experience of people vulnerable to structural violence.”
Some Catholics, through their own conscience and reflection on the moral teachings of the church, have engaged in harm reduction efforts. In 1999, the Sisters of Charity opened Australia’s first supervised safe injection facility at Sydney’s St. Vincent Hospital, a decision that supported “the sisters’ commitment to the preservation of life by moving drug taking from the streets and into a safe environment.”
People in the community who were against the safe injection site called on the Vatican’s Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith to investigate the Sisters of Charity, which resulted in them being ordered to halt the operation on the grounds that the Vatican deemed it an “‘extremely proximate’ material cooperation in evil.” Nevertheless, to this day Catholic Sisters continue to stay involved in harm reduction efforts throughout the world.
Subsidiarity recognizes that there is still a need and a place for larger organizations such as governments to act out social justice through laws and deeper systemic change. What this teaching reminds us, though, is that we can’t rely on larger institutions to do the work of justice for us.
Isaac Villegas writes in the Christian Century that giving to the one who asks of you, as Jesus commands, is “not a strategy for systemic change.” Rather, it is practical guidance on how to respond as Christians to our constant, continuous call throughout life to “consider a stranger’s needs. To subject yourself to the vulnerability of another. To submit political commitments to everyday life decisions.” This builds the coming world, God’s kingdom, in our hearts and world here and now. Please be with me, O God, as I do this work, as I live as though you are every face. Here I am.
A Community
In Canada, the Vancouver Area Network of Drug Users (VANDU) started in the 1990s during the AIDS pandemic to bring harm reduction to an area that was seeing an epidemic of overdose deaths. It is run by people who use drugs themselves, and several founders were inspired by liberation theology and its preferential option for the poor. The organizers combined the values and education techniques of the liberation theology movement to organize drug users through discussion groups, making their suffering public to the wider community.
One of the founders said, “It was almost a spiritual thing that we had talked about, that the cry of suffering users themselves, if that could be heard publicly, that was the most powerful weapon of all. . . what is most denied and repressed in society is the collective expression of pain. There are so many institutions that privatize pain and keep it hidden, whether it is the psychiatrist’s office, the mental health system, or bars. Facilitating the public expression of pain was the most subversive thing we could do.”
VANDU continues to have a strong impact on public education, advocacy for medical and mental health services, peer and community support, needle exchange and recovery, and more. Those who use drugs are not treated as victims but as human beings with inherent dignity who know best what they need for their own, and the community’s, healing.
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