A Man Who Saw by Hearing

Christ Healing the Blind Man, by Eustache Le Sueur

This Sunday’s Gospel features the well-known story of the healing of the blind man (Bartimaeus). When listening to any familiar story, we are inclined, upon hearing its opening lines, to think, “Oh, that story,” and just sort of tune out. If we do so, though, we may miss some important details.

The story of Bartimaeus is also our story; we, too, must let the Lord heal our blindness and give us sight. One paradox of this Gospel is that Bartimaeus receives his sight as the result of hearing.

Let’s look at the Gospel in six stages.

I.  The Perception of the Problem – The text says, As Jesus was leaving Jericho with his disciples and a sizable crowd, Bartimaeus, a blind man, sat by the roadside begging.

Bartimaeus has troubles; he is both blind and poor. He is not spiritually blind, however, for he is aware of his problems. Knowing our troubles, being in touch with our neediness, is an important spiritual insight that many people lack.

We all depend on God for every beat of our hearts, yet some people are unaware of how blind, poor, naked, and pitiable they are before God (cf Rev 3:17). In their pride, those who are spiritually blind lose this insight. They fail to ask for help from the Lord; they fail to ask for grace. Jesus said to the Pharisees, “If you were blind, you would not be guilty of sin; but since you claim you can see, your guilt remains” (John 9:41). In other words, physical blindness is not their problem; it is spiritual blindness. Because they think themselves righteous by their own power, they think they do not need God and do not truly seek Him. Only humility and a true “vision” and experience of our poverty can help us to call out to God as we should.

Bartimaeus knows that he is blind, so he calls for help. His pleas need some direction, though; they need to be properly specified and directed.

So, we begin by noting that although Bartimaeus is blind he has spiritual insight.

Do we have this insight? Do we understand how blind we are? We struggle to see God; we struggle to see and understand ourselves; we struggle to see others with compassion and understanding. Indeed, God is more present to us than is anything in this world. Somehow, we can see all the things of this world yet struggle to see God. Neither do we see our own dignity, or the dignity and the gifts of others, including our enemies. We do not see or understand how things work together, and we struggle to see and find meaning in the events of our day. We are also blind to our sin and seldom fully comprehend the harm our sin does.

Yes, we have a great deal of blindness; we struggle to see. Perhaps our worst blindness is not realizing how blind we are. Like the Pharisees, we think that because we know a few things, we therefore know many things.

Consider Bartimaeus’ humility: he knows he is blind, that he needs help, grace, and mercy. It is this humility that opens the door. The first stage in the journey is perceiving the problem.

II.  The Proclamation that is Prescribed – The text says, On being told it was Jesus of Nazareth who was passing by, he began to cry out and say, “Jesus son of David have pity on me.”

Note the subtle but important transition here. Up until this point, Bartimaeus has been calling upon anyone passing by for help. But no mere passerby, nor in fact anyone in this world, can ultimately help him with his real problem.

It is the same with us. Though we may turn to science, medicine, philosophy, economics, or politics, none of these can really help us. At best these can serve to specify what is wrong or to provide us with temporary comfort, but all these solutions will be rooted in this world, which is passing away.

True vision can only be granted by the Lord, who opens for us a vision of glory and who alone can draw us safely to that place where joys will never end, and visions will never cease.

When Bartimaeus is told of Jesus’ presence, he directs his cry to the Lord, who alone can heal him: Jesus, son of David, have pity on me! The world and passersby can give him money or a meal, but only Jesus can give him meaning, the true vision he really needs to see.

Do not miss the fact that his seeing comes, paradoxically, through hearing. Faith comes by hearing, and more specifically, hearing from the Word of God (cf Rom 10:17). Faith is about hearing, not seeing. We sometimes doubt things that we see. Even if we see a marvel, we tend to dismiss it, thinking, “Oh, they have some way of doing that.” No, the eye is never satisfied with seeing (cf Eccl. 1:8). Faith comes by hearing, and faith is obedience to what is heard. We walk by faith, by an inner seeing, not by physical sight.

Bartimaeus hears from others that Jesus is passing by and takes up the proclamation that is prescribed: “Jesus, Son of David, have pity on me!”

III. The Perseverance that Produces – The text says, And they rebuked him, telling him to be silent. Yet he kept calling all the more, “Son of David, have pity on me!” Jesus stopped and said, “Call him.” So they called the blind man saying to him, “Take courage; get up. Jesus is calling you.”

Those of us who put our trust in the Lord and call on Him will often experience rebuke, hostility, and ridicule from the world. Bartimaeus ignores all of this and so should we. He has heard the Name above all names, who alone in Heaven and earth can save, and calls upon Him.

Jesus does not answer him right away, but the Bartimaeus perseveres, calling out all the more. Eventually, Jesus stops and says, “Call him.”

Why does God delay? While this is a mystery, one of the effects of His delay is to test our faith and strengthen it. In the end, it is not an incantation that saves us, but faith. Simply shouting, “In the name of Jesus!” is not enough. The name of Jesus is not some magical phrase like “Open, Sesame.” Rather, it is an announcement of faith, and faith is more than words. Ultimately, it is not words alone that save us, but the faith that must underlie the words.

IV.  The Priority that is Presented – The text says, He threw aside his cloak, sprang up, and came to Jesus.

Do not miss this important detail: Bartimaeus’ cloak is probably the most valuable thing he owns. In that arid climate, the temperature drops rapidly after sunset, and it gets quite cool. In fact, so critical was the cloak that Scripture forbade taking one as collateral for a loan:  If a man is poor, do not go to sleep with his pledge in your possession. Return his cloak to him by sunset so that he may sleep in it (Deut 24:12-13).

Despite this, Bartimaeus casts aside his cloak and goes to Jesus. He leaves behind perhaps the item most necessary for his survival in this world. Missing a meal might be inconvenient or uncomfortable but it would not kill him. Spending one cold night without his cloak might well cause his death by hypothermia. Yet Bartimaeus leaves it behind and runs to the Lord.

What about us? What are we willing to leave behind in order to find Christ? An old gospel song says, “I’d rather have Jesus than silver and gold.” Another old hymn says, “There’s nothing between my soul and the Savior.” Is that true? Are you willing to leave it behind? Are you free enough to do so?

V.  The Permission that is Procured – The text says, Jesus said to him in reply, “What do you want me to do for you?” The blind man replied to him, Master, I want to see!”

Why does Jesus ask this question? Can He not see what Bartimaeus needs?

Being healed takes courage. Most of us seek mere relief, not healing. Tue healing takes courage because it brings about change and places new demands on us. If Bartimaeus is healed, it will no longer be acceptable for him to sit and beg; more will be expected of him; his life will be irrevocably changed.

Yes, to be healed requires courage. Many of us wonder why the Lord delays in answering our prayers. Perhaps we should think about a question from last week’s Gospel: “Do you have any idea what you are asking?” Often, we do not.

There is a big difference between relief and healing, and the Lord is in the healing business. Do not miss what the Lord is really saying here. In effect, he asks, “Are you sure you really want to be healed?” The Lord respects us and our free will. He wants our consent before going to work. Though many of us think we want healing, we often don’t really know what we are asking.

The Lord waits until our request makes sense. He knows that many times, though we ask, we are not really ready for what He offers. He asks us, and only when our yes becomes definitive does He go to work.

VI.  The Path that is Pursued – The text says, Jesus told him, “Go your way; your faith has saved you.” Immediately he received his sight and followed Jesus on the way.

True healing brings forth radical change. The man who sat by the road begging now sees, but he is also up and walking about. What is he doing? He is following Jesus. Faith has saved him. Faith not only gives sight but also summons us to obedience, an obedience that has us walk in the path of the Lord.

You see (pardon the pun), faith is more than an offer of relief. True faith instills real change: change in direction and change in the way we walk.

Thus, this Sunday Gospel speaks to us of a man who was blind, but, paradoxically, receives his sight and his faith by hearing. Bartimaeus had heard of Jesus and then called on Him. Yes, his sight came from his hearing, and faith grants vision by hearing. True vision is seeing Christ, and having seen Him by hearing, following Him.

I Want to Walk as a Child of the Light

1. I want to walk as a child of the light;
I want to follow Jesus.
God set the stars to give light to the world;
the star of my life is Jesus.

Refrain:
In him there is no darkness at all;
the night and the day are both alike.
The Lamb is the light of the city of God;
Shine in my heart, Lord Jesus.

2. I want to see the brightness of God;
I want to look at Jesus.
Clear Sun of righteousness, shine on my path,
and show me the way to the Father.

3. I’m looking for the coming of Christ;
I want to be with Jesus.
When we have run with patience the race,
we shall know the joy of Jesus.

Distractions, as Seen in a Commercial

The word “distracted” most literally means to be drawn or pulled aside. When distracted, we lose our focus and may act improperly, unwisely, or incorrectly.

The commercial below depicts a young man trying to play a video game while eating. The results are comical and destructive inside the video game world.

The cosmic battle in which we are engaged, however, is no game, and our distractions can have real effects. Scripture says of Jesus, As the time approached for him to be taken up to heaven, Jesus resolutely set out for Jerusalem (Luke 9:51). St. Paul says, But one thing I do: forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead, I press on toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus (Phil 3:13-14).

Along the way in our lives we are too easily distracted. Remember the goal; remember the battle. Pray for the gift to be resolute and singlehearted.
Behold, then, this picture of distraction.

https://youtu.be/iOrog_Wws7E

The Lord Is Eager to Engage the Battle; Are You?

The Gospel for Thursday of the 29th Week of the Year speaks of a great cosmic battle taking place all around us. In it, Jesus speaks of His mission to engage our ancient foe and to gather God’s elect back from the enslaving clutches of Satan, who was a murderer and a liar from the beginning (cf John 8:44).

Jesus is approaching Jerusalem for the final time and describes the battle that is about to unfold. It is a battle He wins at the cross and with His resurrection, but it is one whose parameters extend across time to our own era.

Let’s consider Jesus’ description of the cosmic battle and of His mission as the great Shepherd of the sheep and the Lord of armies.

A Passion to Purify – Jesus begins by saying, I have come to set the earth on fire, and how I wish it were already blazing!

Fire is both powerful and transformative. It gives warmth and makes food palatable, but it also consumes and destroys. Nothing goes away from fire unchanged!

The Lord has come to purify us by the fiery power of His love, His grace, and His Word. He has a passion to set things right.

Purification is seldom easy or painless, though, hence the image of fire. In this great cosmic battle, fire must be cast upon the earth not only to purify but to distinguish. There are things that will be made pure but only if other things are burned away and reduced to ashes.

This image of fire is important because many people today have reduced faith to seeking enrichment and blessings. Faith surely supplies these, but it also demands that we take up our cross and follow Christ without compromise. Many if not most enrichment and blessings come through the fiery purification of God’s grace, which burns away sin and purifies us of our adulterous relationship with this world. Fire incites, demands, and causes change—and change is never easy.

Therefore, Jesus announces the fire by which He will judge and purify this earth and all on it, rescuing us from the power of the evil one.

This is no campfire around which we sit singing songs. Jesus describes it as a blaze that must set the whole world on fire!

How do you get ready for fire? By letting the Lord set you on fire! John the Baptist promised of the Lord, He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire (Matt 3:11). Indeed, the Lord sent forth His Spirit on the early Church as tongues of fire (cf Acts 2:3) to bring them up to the temperature of glory and to prepare them for the coming judgment of the world by fire.

The battle is engaged. Choose sides. If you think you can remain neutral or stand on some middle ground, I’ve got news for you about which side you’re really on. No third way is given. You’re either on the ark or you’re not. You’re either letting the fire purify you or you’re being reduced to ashes. You’re either on fire by God’s grace (and thereby ready for the coming judgment of the world by fire) or you’re not. The choice is yours. Jesus is passionate to set things right. He has come to cast fire upon the earth.

A Painful Path The text says, There is a baptism with which I must be baptized, and how great is my anguish until it is accomplished!

The Lord does not come among us merely come to get us out of trouble but to get into trouble with us. Though sinless, Jesus takes upon Himself the full weight of human sinfulness and manfully carries it to the cross. He accepts a “baptism” in His own blood on our behalf.

In waging war on our behalf against the evil one, Jesus does not sit in some comfortable headquarters behind the front lines; He goes out “on point,” taking the hill of Calvary and leading us over the top to the resurrection glory. He endures every blow, every hardship on our behalf.

Through His wounds we are healed by being baptized in the very blood and water He shed in the great cosmic war.

It is a painful path He trod, and He speaks of His anguish in doing it, but having won the victory He now turns to us and invites us to follow Him through the cross to glory.

The choice to follow is ours. In this sense the cosmic battle continues, as Jesus describes in the verses that follow.

A Piercing Purgation – In words that are nothing less than shocking, the Lord says, Do you think that I have come to establish peace on the earth? No, I tell you, but rather division. From now on a household of five will be divided, three against two and two against three; a father will be divided against his son and a son against his father, a mother against her daughter and a daughter against her mother, a mother-in-law against her daughter-in-law and a daughter-in-law against her mother-in-law.

The words shock but they speak a truth that sets aside worldly notions of compromise and coexistence with evil. For there to be true peace, holiness, and victory over Satan, there must be distinction not equivocation, clarity not compromise. Fire and water do not mix; you can hear the conflict when they come together: hissing, popping, searing, and steaming. One must win; the other must lose. Compromise and coexistence are not possible.

The Lord said (in Matthew 10:34) that He came not for peace but for the sword. In this there is a kind of analogy to a surgeon’s scalpel. The surgeon must wield this “sword” to separate out healthy flesh from that which is diseased. Coexistence is not possible; the diseased flesh must go. The moment one talks of “coexisting” with cancer, the disease wins. Were a doctor to take this stance he would be guilty of malpractice. When there is cancer, the battle must be engaged.

Thus, in this great cosmic battle, the Lord cannot and will not tolerate a false peace based on compromise or an accepting coexistence. He has come to wield a sword, to divide. Many moderns do not like it, but Scripture is clear: there are wheat and tares, sheep and goats, those on the Lord’s right and those on His left, the just and wicked, the lowly and the proud, the narrow road to salvation and the wide road to damnation.

These distinctions, these divisions, extend into our very families, into our most intimate relationships. This is the battle. There are two armies, two camps. No third way is given. Jesus says elsewhere, Whoever is not with me is against me, and whoever does not gather with me scatters (Matt 12:30).

About all this we must be sober and must work for our own salvation and the salvation of all, for while there may not be a season of mercy and patience now, the time is short for us all. The distinction between good and evil, righteousness and sin, will be definitive and the sword must be wielded.

Thus, the Lord speaks to us of a cosmic battle in the valley of decision (cf Joel 3). Jesus has won, and it is time to choose sides. Even if our own family members reject us, we must choose the Lord. The cosmic battle is engaged. The fire is cast, and the sword of the Spirit and God’s Word is being wielded. The Lord has come to divide the good from the wicked, the sheep from the goats. Judgment begins now, with the house of God. Scripture says,

For it is time for judgment to begin with God’s household; and if it begins with us, what will the outcome be for those who do not obey the gospel of God? (1 Peter 4:17)

If this be the case, how do we choose sides, practically speaking? And having chosen sides, how do we join the fight with the Lord in the cosmic battle?

A Call To Courage from the Book of Esther

Queen Esther, by Andrea del Castagno (1450)

In the Office of the Readings, we are currently reading from the Book of Esther. At the heart of the book is a reminder that there come moments in our lives when we must stand up and be counted whatever the cost. At such times we must confront our fears, choose sides, and act with heroic character to ensure what is right and just. If we are truly to be God’s prophets and want His Kingdom to prevail, staying silent or waiting for others to act is not an acceptable option.

As the Book opens we meet Esther, who though secretly a Jew has become queen due to her rare beauty. The Persian emperor, Ahasuerus (also known as Xerxes and who reigned from 485–464 B.C.), is somewhat easily manipulated, frivolous, and distracted. He leaves much of the ruling to his prime minister, the wicked Haman. Haman takes advantage of the king’s nature to pursue a personal vendetta against the Jews by having a royal decree issued ordering their destruction. Haman’s anger had been kindled by Mordecai, Esther’s foster father, who had refused to kneel and bow before him. Informed that Mordecai was a Jew and that Jews do not comply with such customs due to their religious understandings, the furious Haman arranged the decree.

Mordecai informs Esther of this mortal danger for all Jews and the date certain for their extermination. He sends the following word to her:

Remember the days of your lowly estate … when you were brought up in my charge; for Haman, who is second to the king, has asked for our death. Invoke the Lord and speak to the king for us: save us from death.”

This is a crucial moment for Esther, a moment to decide whether to bravely confront the darkness or to hunker down and hope the storm will pass. Her decision will affect not only her own destiny but the lives and well-being of others as well.

Her first reaction is cowardly and defeatist. She says,

All the servants of the king and the people of his provinces know that any man or woman who goes to the king in the inner court without being summoned, suffers the automatic penalty of death, unless the king extends to him the golden scepter, thus sparing his life. Now as for me, I have not been summoned to the king for thirty days.

The Lord, through Mordecai, rebukes her and summons her to magnanimity and courage. He has this reply brought to her:

Do not imagine that because you are in the king’s palace, you alone of all the Jews will escape. Even if you now remain silent, relief and deliverance will come to the Jews from another source; but you and your father’s house will perish. Who knows but that it was for a time like this that you obtained the royal dignity?

Mordecai makes it clear that Esther’s own destiny is on the line. She will answer one day to God and surely perish if she does not summon courage and greatness. Why else does she think that God put her at a time and place such as this? She must decide and then accept the consequences of her decision. This is no time for fearful self-preservation or even prudential delay; it is the time for action that befits sacrificial love of others, of truth, and of justice.

The original meaning of the word encourage is “to summon to courage,” not just to make people feel better. Mordecai (whose name means “warrior”) has summoned Esther to battle.

Thanks be to God, she hears, repents of her fear, and decides that she will do what is right, whatever the cost. She sends back to Mordecai this response:

Go and assemble all the Jews who are in Susa; fast on my behalf, all of you, not eating or drinking, night or day, for three days. I and my maids will also fast in the same way. Thus prepared, I will go forth to the king, contrary to the law. If I perish, I perish!

Pay attention, fellow Catholics. We, too, are summoned to engage in a battle for the Kingdom of Light against the kingdom of darkness. We live in times of deep moral confusion and an often-fierce rejection of God. The toll of abortion is staggering in numbers. Our families and the lives of so many are being ruined by divorce, promiscuity, and pornography. Sexual confusion is rampant. Greed, gluttony, addiction, and other excesses have drained the vitality of countless people and made them slaves to their senses. In the Church as well there is sin, fearful silence, inaction by clergy of every rank, compromise with the world, and the very smoke of Satan.

If we want to know how such darkness and confusion has proliferated, we need to look honestly at ourselves as Catholics. Collectively, we have cowered in silence while Satan and worldly forces have wreaked havoc. Our pulpits have been too quiet; so too have the dining room tables of our homes.

The Lord wants the light of His truth to shine forth. Jesus, who says to us “You are the light of the world” (Mat 5:14-16), also adds that He did not light our lamp to hide it under a basket. No, He wants His light to shine. This means you! We are not a light, we are the light of the world. Christ, the Light of the World, wants to shine through us. Christ, the Word made Flesh, wants to speak through us.

In other words, as Mordecai says, we were made for times like these. The Lord put us here for this purpose: to turn back the darkness. We must decide whether to speak and shine so as to save the lives of many or to cower and hide and see the losses continue. Ultimately, we will answer to God for our decision.

The following are the lyrics to the hymn “Once to Every Man and Nation.” They were taken from a longer poem written by James Russell Lowell in 1845 to protest the United States’ war with Mexico.

Once to ev’ry man and nation
Comes the moment to decide,
In the strife of truth and falsehood,
For the good or evil side;
Some great cause, some great decision,
Off’ring each the bloom or blight,
And the choice goes by forever
’Twixt that darkness and the light.

Then to side with truth is noble,
When we share her wretched crust,
Ere her cause bring fame and profit,
And ’tis prosperous to be just,
Then it is the brave man chooses
While the coward stands aside.
Till the multitude make virtue
Of the faith they had denied.

By the light of burning martyrs,
Christ, Thy bleeding feet we track,
Toiling up new Calv’ries ever
With the cross that turns not back;
New occasions teach new duties,
Ancient values test our youth;
They must upward still and onward,
Who would keep abreast of truth.

Though the cause of evil prosper,
Yet the truth alone is strong;
Though her portion be the scaffold,
And upon the throne be wrong;
Yet on that scaffold sways the future,
And, behind the dim unknown,
Standeth God within the shadow,
Keeping watch above His own.

In times like these we need more people like Esther, who chose to do what was right and confronted the evil of her time. By God’s grace, we need her courage to echo through us so that we can say with her, I will go forth … If I perish, I perish!

The Case of the Missing Veil

One of the most consistent appeals to tradition is women wearing veils. (I have written more about it here, here and here.) For the record, I love to see women wearing veils and hats at Mass, but as a general notion, nothing says tradition as much as the veil.

But how traditional is it? I have been collecting photographs from Catholic tradition and was surprised to see that in photos prior to 1960 most of the women were not wearing veils. It seems that the period during which veils were worn was short—not more than ten years (early to late 1960s). Rather, women wore hats. Most but not all the photos were taken in the United States, but they consistently show women in hats, not veils prior to 1960.

Do we need to adjust our notion of what type of headwear is traditional for women? I love veils and think that most women today are more likely to wear a veil than a hat. Veils also link more closely to the biblical tradition. However, the photograph evidence is clear that hats predominated prior to about 1960.

The photograph above was taken in my parish in 1954; it shows hats, no veils. The video below contains photos from various places in the U.S. and Europe as well as various times, nearly all from the early 1900s to the late 1960s. I provide some commentary as well. (The video is quite lengthy (more than 12 minutes long), so I have put the pictures into a pdf document and posted it here: Find the Missing Veil.)

Are You Ready For When the Lord Shall Come?

In the Gospel for Tuesday of the 29th Week, Jesus reminds us to be ready, but what does that mean? Let’s consider four ways that the Lord describes.

READY to WORK – Jesus says, gird your loins,which is the ancient equivalent of saying, “roll up your sleeves.” The Lord has a work for us and wants us to get to it. He’s not thinking of a worldly career, but rather things such as raising children in godly fear, pursuing justice, and growing in holiness. The Lord wants us to work in His Kingdom.

We must commit to prayer, Sunday worship, reception of the sacraments, obedience, and holiness. The Lord has a particular work for each of us based on the gifts He has given us. Some can teach, others work well with senior citizens, still others have a good head for business and can provide employment at a just wage. Some are called to priesthood or the religious life. Some are called to suffering and to offer that suffering for the salvation of souls. Some serve in strength, others in weakness. In some way, all are called to serve, to work. So, work with what the Lord gave you to advance His Kingdom. Part of being ready means doing our work.

READ the WORD – The Lord says, light your lamps.” Taken from a literal standpoint, this refers to getting ready as described in the Parable of the Wise and Foolish Virgins (Matthew 25:1-13). In another sense a lamp is a symbol for Scripture. For example, Your Word, O Lord, is a lamp unto my feet and a light unto my path (Ps 119:105), We possess the prophetic message that is altogether reliable. You will do well to be attentive to it, as to a lamp shining in a dark place, until day dawns and the morning star rises in your hearts (2 Peter 1:19).

So, from today’s Gospel we can also understand that an essential part of being ready is being rooted and immersed in Scripture and in the teachings of the Church. In this increasingly secular world, so hostile to the faith, our minds are bound to be sullied unless we read Scripture every day. How can our minds be sober and clear if we are inebriated by the world? Being ready means reading Scripture each day and basing our life on it.

REMAIN WATCHFUL – The Lord says, “and be like servants who await their master’s return from a wedding, ready to open immediately when he comes and knocks. … Be sure of this: if the master of the house had known the hour when the thief was coming, he would not have let his house be broken into. You also must be prepared, for at an hour you do not expect, the Son of Man will come.”

There are different ways to watch and wait. There is the passive watching and waiting such as one might do when waiting for a bus to come, but there are other more active ways such as a waiter might exhibit as he hovers in the background anticipating the needs of the diners. It is this watchful and waiting spirit that the Lord has in mind here. If we have invited guests to our home, we prepare our house and make sure everything is in order as we await their arrival. In a less literal sense, to set our house in order is to sweep clean our soul of sin and all unrighteousness, by God’s grace, and to remove the clutter of worldliness. Regular confession and daily repentance sweep clean the house of our soul; simplifying our life and minimizing worldly attachments de-clutters the house of our soul.

Have you prepared the house of your soul for the Lord’s arrival? If you haven’t, the Lord says that you may experience him as a thief; He is not really a thief, though, because everything belongs to Him. If we have not renounced our worldliness and greed, if we have not de-cluttered our lives worldly attachments, the Lord will come to take back what is His; He will seem a thief to us because we think it is ours. It’s never a good idea to call God, the Lord and owner of all, a thief!

REFLECT on your reWARD – The Lord says, Blessed are those servants whom the master finds vigilant on his arrival. Amen, I say to you, he will gird himself, have them recline at table, and proceed to wait on them. And should he come in the second or third watch and find them prepared in this way, blessed are those servants.

The Lord is clear that He has a reward for those who are found ready. It is prefigured in the banquet of the Eucharist, wherein the Lord prepares a meal and feeds us. The Lord says, Behold, I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in to him and eat with him, and he with me (Rev 3:20). And I confer a kingdom on you, just as my Father has conferred one on me, that you may eat and drink at my table in my kingdom (Luke 22:30).

For most of us in the Western world today, food is easy to come by and not given a great deal of thought. In the ancient world this was not so, and one of the pleasures people looked forward to most was a hearty meal in the company of friends and family. The Lord offers us the magnificent blessing of Heaven, where we will be with Him and those whom we love forever in unspeakable joy and peace.

Do you meditate often on Heaven and long for its rewards? It seems strange to me that we speak so little about Heaven. Because it is not a place any one of us has been, it’s hard to fully understand what it will be like, but we should be reflecting often on the joy awaiting us there. Part of being ready to go home to Lord is longing for that day. When we want to do something we eagerly prepare for it; we are motivated and make sacrifices to do it.

Last year a group from my parish traveled to the Holy Land. Many of them saved money for two years through a payment plan to be able to go. In preparation, we gathered together periodically, studying maps and reading Bible stories. On the day of departure many in the group arose early and arrived at the airport hours ahead of time. Eagerly reflecting on Heaven and the joy awaiting us there should be similar. If we desire Heaven we will more naturally get ready and lay aside whatever is necessary to make the passage there.

So, here are four ingredients constituting a recipe for readiness. You’d better set your house in order ’cause he may be comin’ soon!

What Happened to Us When We Were Baptized into Christ Jesus?

The first reading for Monday’s daily Mass, from the Letter to the Ephesians (Eph 2:1-10), gives a concise account of our salvation by Christ Jesus. It begins by describing our absolute need for salvation and then speaks to the gifts that come with it. Let’s take a look.

Dead in our Sins – The text says, You were dead in your transgressions and sins in which you once lived following the age of this world, following the ruler of the power of the air, the spirit that is now at work in the disobedient. All of us once lived among them in the desires of our flesh, following the wishes of the flesh and the impulses.

There is nothing more helpless than a corpse. It cannot do anything but lie there and decompose. This was our condition before baptism. No amount of good works, repentance, or spiritual pushups could accomplish a thing. We were dead, helpless, powerless. We had a debt we could not repay.

We were decomposing by following the prince of this world, the Devil. We had the rigor mortis of stubbornness and the stench of disobedience. Dead in our sins, the desires and pride of our flesh won the day. We indulged our passions and impulses. Even keeping of the law was a matter of pride. We thought that we could be righteous by following certain narrowly understood laws. These were just the illusions of a dying man. Isaiah said of us,

All of us have become like one who is unclean, even our righteous acts are like a polluted garment; we all wither like a leaf, and our iniquities carry us away like the wind (Is 64:6).

Death was all around us and within us.

Destined for Wrath – The text says, And we were by nature children of wrath, like the rest.

Wrath is our experience of the total incompatibility of our sinful state before the holiness of God. It is like fire and water—they cannot coexist; there is a conflict between them that is heard in the hissing of water when it falls onto a fire.

God is a holy fire and we cannot endure the heat and light of His glory in our sinful state. By grace, we must be brought up to the temperature of glory by the Holy Spirit and must become accustomed to the glorious light of God’s truth. Without these gifts we cannot endure the presence of God.

Yes, this is wrath. It is not that God is angry; it is that we cannot endure Him as He is. It is like being exposed to the light after being used to the darkness. We say that the light is harsh, but the problem is that we’ve become too accustomed to the dark.

Before the grace of Christ, we were children of wrath. Only by the light of His grace and the warmth of His love can we hope to draw close to Him who is the light of truth and blazing charity.

Delivered in Christ – The text says, But God, who is rich in mercy, because of the great love he had for us, even when we were dead in our transgressions, brought us to life with Christ (by grace you have been saved), raised us up with him, …

On account of His mercy, God the Father sent us Christ Jesus as a glorious gift. Jesus comes to restore us to life, to bring us to the light in stages and bring us up to the temperature of glory!

In His Spirit, who descends like tongues of fire on us, we are set on fire. Through His proclaimed truth, He who is the light of the world accustoms us to the bright light of God’s truth. Yes, we are brought out of the dark, cold dungeon of the tomb and raised up with Christ!

Designated in Honor – The text continues, … and [the Father] seated us with him in the heavens in Christ Jesus, that in the ages to come he might show the immeasurable riches of his grace in his kindness to us in Christ Jesus.

In Christ, we are already seated in the heavens—mystically but truly. As Christ has ascended into the heavens, we ascend with Him as members of His body.

One may wonder how it is that he is “up there” while we are “down here.” When I ride the elevator to the tenth floor, although my head arrives before my feet, I get there. In Christ our head, we are already seated at the Father’s right hand. Where the head of the body goes, the members will follow.

Brethren, this is our future and our dignity if we are faithful: seated with Christ at the Father’s right hand in Heaven!

Diligent in Fruitful Faith – The text says, For by grace you have been saved through faith, and this is not from you; it is the gift of God; it is not from works, so no one may boast. For we are his handiwork, created in Christ Jesus for good works that God has prepared in advance, that we should live in them.

Meanwhile, we walk in fruitful faith. Our faith bears fruit in works. Yet even our works are God’s grace. The text says that God prepared them for us in advance so that we should walk in them. All is grace! St. Augustine says that God’s love extends to this, that His graces should be our merits. Thus, our works are our faith working through love (cf Gal 5:6).

Such is our state in Christ and God’s gift: we who were dead in our sins have been brought to life in Him. Destined for glory, we journey upward in fruitful faith and love.

Thank you, Father, for Jesus and your Spirit, who breathes new life in us. We could nothing to accomplish this; we were dead. By your grace we now live and are destined to be with you. Keep us faithful unto death, lest we lose this precious gift and die in the hardness of our heart. Yes, keep us faithful unto death.

No Cross, No Crown – A Homily for the the 29th Sunday of the Year

In the Sunday Gospel, the Lord Jesus speaks of crosses and crowns. The apostles have only crowns in mind, but Jesus knows the price of the crown. So, He must teach them and us that crowns—the things we value most—come only through the cross.

It may help to review the context of this Gospel. Jesus is making His final journey to Jerusalem. He is on his way to the cross and has already announced this to His disciples on two occasions. Throughout Jesus’ final journey, the apostles prove unwilling and/or incapable of grasping what He is trying to teach them.

This Sunday’s Gospel is a perfect illustration of a common biblical theme that I refer to as the inept response. It is a common situation in the Gospels wherein Jesus presents a profound teaching, yet within a matter of verses or sometimes even just a few words, the apostles demonstrate that they have absolutely no understanding of what He has just told them.

You may recall that in the Gospel readings for the previous two Sundays, the Lord gave critically important teachings. Two weeks ago, he stood a young child in their midst and spoke of the child as being truly great. He also warned that we must be able to receive the Kingdom of God like a little child. Last week, He warned of the pernicious effects of wealth and spoke about how hard it is for the rich to enter the Kingdom of Heaven.

Despite these recent teachings, this Sunday’s Gospel opens with James and John (and later all the apostles) wishing honors upon themselves. They want seats at the head of the table, high offices in the Kingdom, which they still conceive of in worldly terms. Never mind that Jesus has taught them that the place of honor is not at the head or even the foot of the table; the honor is upon those who serve those at the table.

The apostles (and we) just don’t understand, no matter how clear Jesus is or how often He repeats Himself.

Let’s look at today’s Gospel in three stages.

Misplaced Priorities – The Gospel begins in this way: James and John, the sons of Zebedee, came to Jesus and said to him, “Teacher, we want you to do for us whatever we ask of you.” He replied, “What do you wish me to do for you?” They answered him, “Grant that in your glory we may sit one at your right and the other at your left.”

James and John ask an inept question and even demand to sit in places of honor. This is a misplaced priority. Their understanding of the place of honor is worldly. Further, they want to move to the head of the table. They want the Lord to grant them this honor. Even in a worldly way of thinking, places of honor must usually be earned. Although some people are born into royalty, most attain leadership and honors only after years of effort. Thus, even from a worldly point of view, James and John are being overly bold, exhibiting little understanding that prior to honors comes labor, comes the earning of those honors. They want the crown without the cross.

Major Price – The Lord Jesus replies to them, “You do not know what you are asking! Can you drink the cup that I drink or be baptized with the baptism with which I am baptized?”

Was Jesus astonished, amused, or saddened? It is not easy to say, but clearly James and John had absolutely no idea what they were asking—and neither do we. Too often we want blessings, honors, or seats in high places, but give little thought to the crosses that are necessary to get there and to stay there.

Those who finally attain leadership often understand what a cross it is. It can be lonely. There are many pressures and long hours of toil. True leadership has its benefits, but it is hard. Most leaders know also the sting of criticism.

There is an old joke among bishops that goes something like this: “When a man becomes a bishop, two things are certain: he will never again have a bad meal, and he will never again hear the truth.” Leaders in many other walks of life can relate to this.

The Lord Jesus wonders whether James and John have any idea what they are really asking. His question is also poignant, for He has been trying to teach them of the passion, the pain, the crucifixion that awaits Him, and which even He, the Lord of glory, must endure before entering into His glory. No, they do not know what they are asking; they just don’t get it.

This must make the Lord very sad. Sometimes we underestimate the suffering Jesus endured long before the garden of Gethsemane that fateful night, when His passion began in earnest. Prior to that evening, the Lord endured a kind of death by a thousand cuts: enemies trying to trap Him, crowds wanting medical miracles but no true healing, strident and judgmental religious leaders, and disciples who walked away from Him as he taught about the Eucharist. Even the Twelve, to whom He looked for friendship, seemed completely disconnected from what He was trying to teach them. He also knew that one of them would betray Him, another would deny Him, and all but one would abandon Him, never making it to the foot of the cross. Oh, the grief that they gave the Lord!

Oh, the grief that we continue to offer up! How we continue to offend His external glory and be difficult cases for Him! How easy it is for us to be hardheaded and stubborn, to have necks of iron and foreheads of brass! No, we should not be so quick to scorn the apostles because we do the same things.

The Lord can only remind them and us of the monumental price, the true cost. No cross, no crown! Ultimately, Heaven costs everything, for we must leave this world behind to reach it. The Easter Sunday of glory, whether in this world or in the world to come, is accessed only by a journey through Good Friday.

It is a major price, but it is one that James and John seem to dismiss. They simply state, categorically, that they are able to drink the cup that the Lord drinks and to be baptized into His death. They have no idea what they’re talking about, however, and neither do most of us.

Medicinal Prescription – The text continues, They said to him, “We can.” Jesus said to them, “The cup that I drink, you will drink, and with the baptism with which I am baptized, you will be baptized; but to sit at my right or at my left is not mine to give but is for those for whom it has been prepared.” When the ten heard this, they became indignant at James and John. Jesus summoned them and said to them, “You know that those who are recognized as rulers over the Gentiles lord it over them, and their great ones make their authority over them felt. But it shall not be so among you. Rather, whoever wishes to be great among you will be your servant; whoever wishes to be first among you will be the slave of all. For the Son of Man did not come to be served but to serve and to give his life as a ransom for many.”

Thus, the other apostles join in the inept response by becoming indignant that James and John are trying to get special dibs on the seats of honor. Their indignity simply shows that they also have no idea what the Lord is talking about.

The Lord tries to bring the big picture of the cross down to earth. He tries to make it plain, saying that the greatest in the kingdom is the servant of all, indeed the slave of all. It is not those who sit at the head of the table, the foot of the table, or any place at the table at all who are the greatest; the greatest are those who serve at the table.

Do they understand? Probably not, but neither do we. It takes most of us a lifetime before we finally get it through our thick skulls that the point in life is not to have the corner office with the view. We have everything upside down, backwards. We are not rich in what matters to God. We think of bank accounts, prestigious addresses, the square footage of our houses, high salaries, and impressive titles—not service.

We may be on our death beds before we finally realize that the greatest people in our lives are those with the ministry of care, those who feed us, those who change our bandages and give us basic care.

Like the apostles, we can be so foolish. At our final judgment, God will not care about the square footage of our house, our titles, or our worldly honors. What will capture His attention is the times when we served, when we gave a cup of cold water to the thirsty or food to the hungry, when we instructed the ignorant, when we prayed for the dying, when we cared for the needs of the poor. He will look for the calluses and the wounds of our service. He will listen for our proclamation of His Kingdom. He will tell us that what we did for the least of our brothers, we did for Him.

Don’t miss the point: there is no crown without the cross. In the Kingdom, honors and crowns are reserved for those who serve, who take up the cross of washing the feet of others, of going to the lowest of places.

In the Gospel this Sunday, the Lord speaks of crosses and crowns—in that specific order. We will not, we cannot, gain any crown in His Kingdom without being baptized into His death, into His cross, into the humble servitude of dying for others in loving service.