(This homily was given on October 12, 2025 at St. Pius X Church, Westerly, R.I., by Fr. Raymond Suriani. Read 2 Kings 5:14-17; 2 Timothy 2:8-13; Luke 17:11-19.)
[For the audio version of this homily, click here: Twenty-eighth Sunday 2025]
The 3 Scripture readings we just heard are being read in Catholic churches today all over the world. They’re the readings for the Twenty-eighth Sunday in Ordinary time. But I believe they were also chosen by the Holy Spirit especially for me on this, the 40th anniversary of my ordination to the priesthood. I want to begin by thanking the Holy Spirit for doing me that favor. He made it relatively easy for me to prepare this homily.
The first reading was about Naaman, an army commander in the
Syrian army who was afflicted with leprosy, and who came to Elisha the prophet
to be healed. But the healing almost didn’t happen. Elisha told Namaan to go and wash 7 times in
the Jordan River and the leprosy would be gone.
Well, Naaman didn’t like that idea—the Jordan wasn’t on his list of the
top rivers in the Middle East and so at first he refused to go. Thank God his servants talked some sense into
him, and he eventually went. And he was
very glad he did. As we heard in that
text a few minutes ago, he plunged into the Jordan 7 times, and the leprosy
left him.
This is a great story for my anniversary Mass because 37
years ago I was a lot like Naaman. 37
years ago, in September of 1988, when Bishop Gelineau assigned me here at St.
Pius, in all honesty I didn’t want to come. I was very happy where I was at St.
Francis de Sales Church in North Kingstown.
And besides, St Pius was “all the way down there in Westerly”. Yes, I have a Rhode Island mentality when
comes to distances! I admit it. Anything over 10 miles is a major road
trip. One priest friend at the time
described Westerly as “exit 1 and then some.”
He had a Rhode Island mentality too!
But it turned out to be the best
move of my life! God has done some
incredible things at St Pius in the last 3-plus decades—and I’ve been blessed
to be a part of it all. Bishop Tobin
once called St Pius a “spiritual powerhouse” in the Diocese of Providence. To me there’s no greater compliment that a
Bishop can give to a parish. This really
came home to me in a powerful way several years ago on a Sunday afternoon. I was standing on the front lawn of the
rectory—and I noticed a car pulling into the parking lot. A Dominican priest dressed in his white habit
got out and began walking toward the front door of the church. Well the church was locked at the time so I
went over to open it and let him in. I
said, “Father, what brings you to Westerly this afternoon?” (I recognized him immediately. He’s a well-known priest—an expert on
medical/moral issues.) He said, “Well,
I’ve always wanted to come to this place, but I’ve never had the
opportunity. But today I did have some
extra time. I’m on my way back to PC
from New York City where I gave a talk at a conference and I decided to take a
detour here to St Pius.” We talked for a
few minutes, and then I let him into the church so he could pray for a while. As I was walking back to the rectory
afterwards, the thought occurred to me, “Fr Ray, think about what that priest
just said (“I’ve always wanted to come to this place.”) That’s what you said when you got off the
train in Lourdes for the first time.
That’s what you said when you arrived in Fatima the first time. That’s what you said when you walked into St
Peter’s Basilica for the first time.
Well this priest—this well-known, highly respected priest—just said that
about little old St Pius X Church in Westerly, Rhode Island! I guess this place really is special!”
Yes, it is.
Which brings us to the second
reading, that text from 2 Timothy, chapter 2.
Timothy was a young priest at the time, and St. Paul in this letter
gives him some fatherly advice on how to conduct his priestly ministry and what
he can expect as he serves the Lord. And
he uses his own experience as a priest to do that. He begins with a little dose
of reality—which is always a good thing.
He says, in effect, “Tim, don’t expect your priestly ministry to be a
picnic, because it won’t be! Don’t
expect everyone to love you and tell you you’re great, because that’s not gonna
happen.” Paul writes, “Remember Jesus
Christ, raised from the dead, a descendant of David: such is the gospel for
which I am suffering, even to the point of chains, like a criminal.”
But it’s important to note that
this suffering Paul is talking about is suffering with a purpose; it’s
suffering with a goal. And that makes
all the difference in the world! People will suffer willingly if there’s a good
purpose and goal that they have in view.
Parents suffer with a good goal in view: to raise their children well;
soldiers and professional athletes suffer through pain and physical training
with a good goal in view: to win a war or to win a championship. Well, a priest suffers because he has a goal
in view—the highest and most important goal of all—the salvation of souls! Which, not surprisingly, is exactly what
St. Paul says here. He writes: “Therefore, I bear with everything
for the sake of those who are chosen, so that they too may obtain the salvation
that is in Christ Jesus together with eternal glory.”
Finally St. Paul mentions in this
text some important things that Timothy needs to remember as he conducts his
priestly ministry. Paul’s message to the
young priest is simple and clear. He
basically says. “Tim, as you do your priestly work remember: If we have died
with Christ in baptism and by living a life of faith—we shall also live with
him; if we persevere in living the faith we shall also reign with Christ in his
eternal kingdom. But if we deny the Lord by our words and actions [we have that
power because we have free will] then he will deny us. But if we are unfaithful in some way to him
he still remains faithful to us—faithful to his promise to be merciful to us—faithful
to his promise to take us back if we sincerely repent and ask for his forgiveness. That’s why there’s always hope for a
sinner—until his dying breath.”
Another way to say all that is,
“Tim, your priestly vocation is to get people right with God; to help them stay
right with God, and if they get estranged from God, to help them find their way
back to God.”
That’s what I signed up for forty
years ago on October 12, 1985—and for that I thank God. Which is how I’ll conclude my homily today,
in imitation of that one healed leper who came back to thank Jesus in today’s
gospel story. (This, by the way, is not an exhaustive list of the things I’m
grateful for today. It’s just a list of
some of the more noteworthy highlights.)
First of all, I thank the Lord
Jesus Christ for calling me to serve him in the priesthood. I didn’t deserve that calling; I didn’t merit
that calling. It was the Lord’s
undeserved and unmerited gift. I thank
him for giving me a family that supported me and encouraged me—but never
pressured me—when I was discerning my vocation, and who’ve supported me
throughout my priestly ministry. I thank
the Lord for blessing my life with good priests like Fr. Giudice and Monsignor
Struck, who were great role models for me in the priesthood. I thank the Lord for giving me a love and
reverence for his word in Sacred Scripture.
I thank the Lord Jesus for giving me the awesome power to change
ordinary bread and wine into his Body and Blood in the Holy Eucharist, to
spiritually nourish his people on earth.
I thank the Lord for giving me the awesome power to forgive sins in his
name—even the worst sins imaginable—in the sacrament of Reconciliation. I thank the Lord for bringing me to this
parish 37 years ago: I thank him for making this place a “spiritual powerhouse
(to quote Bishop Tobin). I thank him for
the conversions that have taken place here, especially in the lives of our
youth. I thank him for the vocations
that have come from this community. And
I thank the Lord for all of you (as well as the people of St. Francis de Sales)
for putting up with me and for supporting me with your love and with your prayers
for the last 40 years. I ask you to
continue to pray for me, that I will continue to be able to be active in ministry
for a long time to come. With prostate
cancer, multiple myeloma and Parkinson’s Disease on my medical resume, I’m not
exactly sure what I have “left in the tank” so to speak. But I already told the Lord, “Whatever I’ve
got left, you can have.”
Pray it’s a lot.
