Let the Lord Open Your Eyes

The 30th Sunday in Ordinary Time
Today’s Readings: Jer 31: 7-9; Ps 126; Heb 5: 1-6; Mk 10: 46-52

The gospel today tells us that as usual, a large crowd was mobbing Jesus and his disciples as were leaving another city—this time Jericho. We’ll never know if Bartimaeus, the blind man who was sitting on the side of the road, was waiting for Christ to pass by… or if it was just another routine day of begging for handouts from travelers going down the road.

But when the blind man heard through the noisy commotion that Jesus, the remarkable healer, was passing in front of him, he knew that his life could change forever. In a flash, Bartimaeus seized his once-in-a-lifetime opportunity with gusto as he began to shout out again and again: “Jesus, son of David, have pity on me.”

The crowd was annoyed and tried to hush him. But the man cried out all the more. He had nothing to lose and everything to gain. He could not and would not be silenced.

Jesus heard Bartimaeus’ cries for mercy and stopped. He halted in his tracks and came to a complete standstill. Over the din of the crowd, Christ heard the man’s voice of blind faith. His persistent shouts touched his compassionate heart. Even though lots of people were competing for his attention, Jesus focused on this one blind man like a laser beam. I can just see the Lord’s eye penetrating deep into the man’s soul as he asked him with love and concern: “What do you want me to do for you?”

Bartimaeus eagerly blurted out his deepest wish: “Master, I want to see.” Jesus immediately granted his desire. It was a miracle beyond all miracles. I love how the gospel says that the man followed Jesus on his way. I’m sure he couldn’t take his eyes off his generous benefactor, memorizing every detail and gazing deeply into his wonderful face.

The story of Bartimaeus helps us see Jesus with eyes of faith. Even before Christ stopped in his tracks, the blind man had seen him more clearly than all the people in the crowd who had their eyesight. How could this be? Maybe through his other God-given senses, the man had learned to listen and hear with great alertness and attentiveness… and as a result, his physical disability had taught him spiritual wisdom and discernment. Bartimaeus’ faith in the divine healer was not a foolish or reckless or stupid faith. Even before Jesus stopped, he was thoroughly convinced that Christ could help him.

There are two great lessons that we ought to take away with us today.

First, we should never forget that God has great compassion and mercy for us. We’ve all gone through times when we feel blinded by doubt, despair, sorrow, disillusionment, hate, confusion or exhaustion. But Bartimaeus teaches us how even in that blindness, we can have a clear vision of God and his love and goodness. Just the way that Jesus stopped and listened so compassionately to the blind man, he will also halt and listen to our own cries for help. We should be comforted and strengthened and filled with great hope knowing this. Remember the little dialog and don’t be afraid to use it. You say: “Lord Jesus, have pity on me.” He stops, looks at you and you alone, and says: “My beloved, precious child… what do you want me to do for you?” Then you simply tell him.

And the second great lesson today is that we should never be afraid to stand up and shout out to the Lord. The crowd wanted Bartimaeus to just shut up and act like a blind man or beggar is “supposed” to. But he refused to go along. He wasn’t going to be put down and marginalized. He would not let other people tell him that he wasn’t worthy to speak to Jesus because of some characteristic in his life! We should passionately remember Bartimaeus’ example. Yes, he was physically challenged, but the people who tried to prevent him from reaching Jesus were themselves in need of a spiritual healing. As we all know, there is much of that in our society today. Look how people are cast aside because of race, gender or sexuality, ethnicity or immigrant status, religion, class, wealth, ability or other divisive criteria. As Catholics, it is vitally important that we stand up and advocate for others who are marginalized—and not get caught up in the hoopla and hysteria of those voices who just wish that some people should just go away. And by the way… this is a great lesson to reflect on as you prepare to go into the voting booth and mark your ballots a week from Tuesday.

We pray that we can see Jesus with new eyes… with the beautiful clarity of vision that Bartimaeus had. And may those eyes of faith fill us with compassionate love for all our brothers and sisters.

Sharing & Suffering

The 29th Sunday in Ordinary Time
Today’s Readings: Isa 53: 10-11; Ps 33; Heb 4: 14-16; Mk 10: 35-45

There once was a wonderful spiritual teacher of the Eastern Church by the name of Abba Joseph—Abba, of course, being a familiar title for “Father.” It’s the way that Jesus himself addressed the Father in prayer.

Abba Joseph told a marvelous story about hospitality and sharing in the desert of the Middle East, in the days when caravans traveled long distances over this brutal terrain. Then, as now, if a sandstorm came up, you could become totally disoriented. It would be easy to lose your way. If running out of water and food didn’t get you, the merciless sun could. You could easily die.

It’s no surprise that the law of the desert was hospitality. If travelers came along, you would always share whatever provisions they needed—because one day, the tables could be turned.

Abba Joseph tells of a man and his wife who had set out on a very long journey. They brought along a large quantity of bread to sustain themselves. In case you’re wondering how you could keep bread fresh for many months, I’ll fill you in on a Middle East trick. Perhaps we can call this a desert gourmet tip. What you do is make a very thick, very dense crust out of salt and flour. It’s almost like plaster. The bread gets hermetically sealed inside. Then, when you crack open the outer shell, the bread is fresh and soft just as if it were newly baked.

Well, this man and wife with all the bread had pitched their camp in the desert to have a little rest. Before long, another small caravan came along—and the travelers and their camels weren’t in very good shape. They obviously were on their last legs, but God led them to this couple. And for this, the man and his wife praised God with great joy.

“This calls for a celebration!” said the man. He had his guests sit down in the tent. His wife ran to bring in bread to eat, and as soon as she brought in a loaf, he would split it open and offer it to their guests. She kept bringing bread, and he kept cracking the loaves open—until they opened every single loaf they had—far more bread than they could possibly eat.

Even though they went through all their provisions, the man and his wife knew that the proper response to God’s wild generosity was wild, almost reckless, generosity of their own. So they shared what they had totally. And as a result, they had confident hope that God would continue to shower his abundant blessings on them.

Abba Joseph ends his parable there. We don’t know what happened to this loving and big-hearted couple. Perhaps someone else shared with them, helping them to complete their own journey successfully. Or maybe they perished for lack of food. Either way, this holy desert priest knew that the couple would win sooner or later: sharing and suffering always bring tremendous blessings in the end. Indeed, they lead to the prime seats in the kingdom of heaven that the sons of Zebedee were after.

This is the lesson that Jesus teaches in today’s gospel. Whenever we generously share what we have, or put ourselves at the service of another to lighten his burden, there is always some degree of suffering entailed. Sharing and suffering go hand in hand. The suffering or sacrifice may be small, or it may be huge—such as giving up all your bread like the people in Abba Joseph’s story… or offering up your very life like Our Lord himself.

Whatever the depth of sacrifice, God always invites us to put our suffering at the service of others. You might say that we’re asked to use our suffering in a spiritual way—to unite our suffering to Jesus’ own Passion. As Christ tells John and James today: From the cup I drink of you shall drink; the bath I am baptized in you shall share. And this is not a threat, but a blessing!

For those of us striving to advance in holiness, how good and profitable it is to stop every now and then and examine ourselves on how well we’re doing in the sharing and suffering department. If we’re honest with ourselves, I know that we would agree that we could do better at serving others more and complaining less.

In fact, it would be an excellent resolution to do just that.

A good, achievable resolution has to be more specific, though. You can’t just say, “I resolve to be a better person.” That’s not too helpful as a self-improvement plan. But if you think about it, you’ll see that there are two main reasons why we don’t share as much as we ought to—and these are the hurdles we have to address.

Probably the biggest obstacle is our insensitivity to suffering people around us. Lots of times, we just don’t notice that someone else is hurting. We get so wrapped up in our own lives and interests that we barely pay attention to other people and their needs. That’s why we might see somebody struggling with something and not offer to help… or why we might ignore calling on friends and relatives who are sick at home, in the hospital or in the nursing home—or even someone in prison… or why we might fail to offer a word of comfort to someone dealing with loss or pain or loneliness or rejection. All of these are examples of other people’s suffering that we should make a conscious effort to be more attuned to.

The second reason we don’t give as much of ourselves as we should is fear. We’re afraid that too much may be demanded of us. We’re afraid that we don’t have enough time. We’re afraid that we’ll say or do the wrong thing. We’re afraid that we may be opening up a can of worms. True, everything in life entails some risk. But we must trust that God will bless us, especially if we’re trying to be a better neighbor.

Both of these obstacles—insensitivity and fear—can be overcome through prayer. We should make Paul’s words our own: Let us confidently approach the throne of grace for timely help. Turn to the Lord daily to seek his blessing. Ask to see through Christ-like eyes and feel with a Christ-like heart. Gaze upon the crucifix and remind yourself how much less Jesus asks of you than he demanded of himself.

Above all, remember that Our Lord will never be outdone in generosity. When you share your gifts and put them at the service of others, and when you bear sufferings with a willing heart, you will certainly be blessed with God’s favor.

We pray that the Lord will help us all to be like that.

The Simple Life

The 28th Sunday in Ordinary Time
Today’s Readings: Wis 7: 7-11; Ps 90; Heb 4: 12-13; Mk 10: 17-30

While I was driving from Penfield to Homer last Sunday, I turned on the radio to a talk show called “The Real Estate Insiders.” People call in with questions about their homes, mortgages, investment properties, refinancing and other real estate matters.

Is it just me, or does it seem that talk radio shows cut to commercials every 3 or 4 minutes? In the course of my 19-mile ride, I heard quite a few.

First, Donald Trump bragged about how rich and successful he is… and promised that he would personally teach you the secrets of accumulating great wealth if you come to his 3-hour workshop in one of the suburbs. They gave a special code so you could get in for $99.

At the next break, a man said that he was tired of slaving at a regular job and not getting anywhere. Now he easily makes $50,000 a month, and he gets to stay home with his 3-year-old daughter. He’ll send you all the information immediately if you call 1-800-SUCKERS.

And then, a woman was talking about an amazing earning opportunity that you can do part time from home. She made $1,200 the very first month, and within a very short time, she was making ten times that. For a DVD and no-obligation information kit, just call 1-866-YEAH-RIGHT.

What is it about oodles of money that makes us perk up? We all know that the bible says that the love of money is the root of all evil, but a fat bank account sure can make life nicer! You could buy a fancier house, a snazzier car, and great clothes… you could travel… you could be a philanthropist… and of course you could quit that dull day job.

I suppose there really are people who do hit the financial jackpot. It sounds like Jesus met one of them in the gospel today—the fellow known as the Rich Young Man. He sounds like a decent enough guy. He’s followed the Ten Commandments and has led an upstanding life. But he’s still got a question: What must I do to inherit eternal life?

That question always hits me when I go to a sick room to give Last Rites to someone who’s dying. Invariably, my eye roams around the room at all the “stuff”—all the person’s possessions. I have the thought that when the reaper, Jesus, Mary and the angels come to escort this soul to the next life, all the stuff stays behind. Why, you could even hitch up a little U-Haul to the casket, but the money and other possessions won’t be crossing into the hereafter. At that moment, I always remember the Lord’s admonition that we should set our hearts not on the things that will pass away but on the things that will last for eternity.

So: back to the wealthy man’s question… What must I do to inherit eternal life? How can we live forever?

Jesus and the fellow have a respectful conversation. When Jesus tells him he has to obey the Commandments, the man gives a sigh of relief. I’ve done all that! Anything else I need?

We’re told that the rich man’s face became very sad when he heard the Teacher’s answer. Jesus bluntly told him to give all his possessions to the poor, and then he would have treasure in heaven.

Interesting, isn’t it? This rich young man—and by the way, we don’t even know his name… I guess it could be any of us—received a personal invitation from Jesus to come and follow him. The man had great wealth but left this encounter saddened. All his money could not buy, barter or bribe God into giving him eternal life.

Does this parable mean that we’ve got to give away all our possessions before following Jesus as disciples? Not necessarily. But maybe, just maybe, there are possessions, wealth, relationships and even demands on our time that we worship and honor more than God in our lives. What might they be? Are they interfering with our life with Jesus Christ? What must I do to inherit eternal life? Salvation is free… but true discipleship is a lifetime of following Jesus… and this includes how we use our money.

Perhaps a slightly different way of trying to understand today’s lesson is this: if we want to follow Jesus… if we want to inherit eternal life… then we are called to a life of simplicity.

If we lust after money or use it wrongly, then things get complicated. Our loyalties get pulled in different directions. Instead of being single-minded in our devotion to God, we start to wiggle around. Shall I go to mass this morning or earn some sweet overtime at work? Should I use some of my funds to help a neighbor or just take care of me and my family? How about volunteering some of my time to a worthy cause? Or “Hey, I’m worth more than that—I should get paid for what I do.”

When you think about, you realize that Christ has taught us a lot about how we should use our gifts. Remember what he said about light and dark, giving and receiving, trust, contentment, faith… To approach discipleship with simplicity means that we are open to unity of heart and singleness of purpose. We have but one desire: to obey Christ in all things. Likewise, we have only one use for money: to advance his kingdom on earth.

So, what must I do to gain eternal life? Be a good person, and use your money and other gifts to advance the kingdom of God on earth.

Wow. That is simple!

Lord, teach us how to use our money for you. Give us generous hearts.

Equal Dignity

The 27th Sunday in Ordinary Time
Today’s Readings: Gen 2: 18-24; Ps 128; Heb 2: 9-11; Mk 10: 2-16

One of the most powerful forces in human society is our desire to fit in. Most of us want to feel like we’re accepted and part of the crowd. That’s why in high school, for example, you get defined as being part of a particular social group by the way you dress, by the music you listen to, by the activities you take part in, by the parties you go to (or don’t go to), and so on. And all of that can spell acceptance or rejection—with serious social, emotional and even psychological consequences.

In Jesus’ day, the cultural forces were every bit as strong as they are today—maybe even stronger, because you couldn’t just pick up and move someplace else or enroll in a different school if things didn’t go your way. If you hoped to fit into the prevailing social life—the foundation of society—there were a lot of ground rules you had to follow and expectations to meet.

Many of those rules concerned women and children. Women and children, essentially, had no rights. They were considered to be possessions, and they were expected to be loyal and respectful—and good breeders, too, if they were wives.

It may sound crass, but when she was young, a woman belonged to her father. Later on, the father would make arrangements with a suitable man and ownership was transferred to a husband. The process was called marriage, but certainly not in the sense that we like to use the term today… as a partnership based on love and commitment.

And within this marriage structure of the ancient near east, you probably won’t be surprised to hear that men had all the rights and power. They were literally the “lord and master” of their home. According to the Book of Deuteronomy (Dt 24:1), the law of Moses explicitly stated: If she find no favor in his eye, he writes her a bill of divorce, puts it in her hand, and sends her out of his house. Talk about no-fault divorce!

Obviously, this could be a terribly heartless thing. Every woman was placed in a helpless and very dependent position in relation to her husband. If he grew tired of her for any reason or no reason at all, she could be thrown out on her ear. The injustice was patent… and unconscionable.

And Jesus, who wasn’t as worried about fitting in and being accepted as most of us are, took this injustice to task—and naturally, infuriated the Pharisees once again, as we hear in today’s gospel! Christ taught that this one-sided right of divorce was wrong. Women were inherently of equal dignity to men. And within the marriage relationship, according to God, wives were to be equal partners with their husbands.

What’s more, if this weren’t a hard enough teaching on its own, Jesus’ lesson today is not just about husbands and wives and marriage. It’s got a much broader scope. The teaching is actually about every human relationship. Christ wants us to understand that all people are of equal dignity and should be treated as such.

It’s not just a coincidence that after the Lord’s instruction about husbands and wives, we immediately hear how Jesus blessed the children and taught how the kingdom of heaven belongs to little ones like them. Once again, Christ wants us to understand the inherent dignity of even the weakest, most vulnerable members of society. The point is, our value and our rights don’t derive from our legal or social status. It doesn’t matter if I’m your husband or your father or your daughter or your third cousin or your employee. What matters is that just like you, I’m a child of God. Just like me, you’re a child of God. We’re brothers and sisters in the Lord. Let that sublime truth sink in.

When you open the bible and find that the Book of Deuteronomy permits divorce, and then the Gospel of Mark seems to forbid it… you might wonder if Christ is teaching us something that is different from the literal words someplace else in the bible—even after telling us that he came to fulfill the law, not abolish it! Which is it to be? This apparent confusion just shows the danger of trying to understand a bible verse literally and in isolation. What is absolutely clear is that Jesus won’t let us use Scripture to put down or abuse God’s children. No individual Scripture passage is the “last word.” We have to take the Scriptures as an organic whole; in other words, we have to see the big picture from God’s viewpoint. Moses understood that, and so does the Church. But many of us have forgotten it.

It’s easy to pluck a verse out of the bible that tells kids to be seen but not heard and just obey their parents… it’s easy to find verses that say that women shouldn’t open their mouths to the men folk… it’s easy to find passages that govern our diet, our sexual relationships, our friendships, our way of dress, our style of prayer…

In Jesus’ day, the Pharisees appointed themselves the gatekeepers to God’s kingdom—but sad for them, Christ often had to put them in their place.

Today, everybody from tellers of redneck jokes to television evangelists are trying to define who is living up to God’s standards… and you know what? If Jesus had his own network TV show today, I have no doubt that he would slam a lot of their talk as bigotry, not piety.

Giver of all life, teach us to love and live in a way that strengthens our community and lifts up all your children. Amen.

Contagious Kindness

The 26th Sunday in Ordinary Time
Today’s Readings: Num 11: 25-29; Ps 19; Jas 5: 1-6; Mk 9: 38-43, 45, 47-48

Recently, they’ve been running a commercial on TV for the Liberty Mutual Insurance Company called “Good Deeds.” Maybe you’ve seen it. It starts by showing a man walking along who notices that a child dropped a doll out of her stroller. So he picks it up off the sidewalk and hands it back to the little girl. A woman on the street notices this. She walks into a bakery and sees that a customer has his coffee mug so close to the edge of the table that it could fall off, so she gently pushes it back to safety as she walks by. And that man, in turn, having experienced this good deed, goes out to do something nice for somebody else. And this chain reaction effect continues: someone witnesses or is the beneficiary of a good deed and is then moved and inspired to do a good turn for somebody else. The commercial is very uplifting. It just makes you feel good to see how kindness can be quietly contagious.

Unfortunately, there’s not as much of that in the world as we’d like to see. Instead of being generous in our kindnesses and good deeds toward others, we frequently become selfish and think only of ourselves: our needs and wants, our happiness and comfort. St. James writes about that in our second reading today. He sums up our bad way of living with three terrible words: You have condemned.

So while Jesus commands us to love, we have done the opposite. You have condemned.

James goes on to tell us that when we condemn, we separate ourselves from the love of God and his kingdom. In fact, when we condemn, our judgment can have such a terrible impact on our victim that in a way, we contribute to killing that person’s spirit. Listen again to James’ words: You have condemned; you have murdered the righteous one.

The irony is that Jesus’ way—the way of love—is not awfully demanding. We don’t have to cut off a hand or a foot or gouge out an eye, to use the metaphors of the gospel. All we have to do is offer a thirsty person a cup of water. Who among us can’t do that?

It sounds so simple to follow Christ’s way. We get it. We understand the teaching… and we may even really try to live it out. But we fail and we fail and we fail.

I promise myself I won’t lose my temper and take out my frustrations on my family—but I keep doing it. I vow that I’ll hold my tongue and not say hurtful things to people or repeat gossip about them—but at the first temptation, I’m doing it again. I promise that I’ll be more helpful and cheerful when somebody asks for my assistance, but sure enough, I get surly or make excuses not to help. Why can’t I just turn over a new leaf and really change myself into the better, kinder, more loving person I wish I could be? Why do I keep condemning?

Don’t think for a minute that Our Lord doesn’t know how hard this is for us. Our evil ways are so deeply entrenched that they seem practically impossible to root out. They’re almost as much a part of us as a limb or an organ.

But Jesus says: If your hand causes you to sin, cut it off. If your foot causes you to sin cut it off. If your eye causes you to sin, pluck it out. It is better to enter into life maimed than with two hands or two feet or two good eyes.

In other words, even though our condemning way is part of who we have become, we’ve got to be willing to perform radical spiritual surgery on ourselves to eliminate the poison.

These days, we all know people who are hobbling around in a lot of pain because their knees are shot. The doctor has recommended knee replacement surgery, but nobody relishes the thought of going under the knife. Yet when the pain reaches a certain point, most people say OK and have the procedure done. Later on, most of them say, “I wish I wasn’t so scared. I should have had this done long ago.”

Same thing with “spiritual surgery.” We know we’ll feel better about ourselves when we can control ourselves… Our souls will be “refreshed,” as today’s psalm puts it. But we put off taking the first step out of fear.

But remember that the gospels are positively full of Jesus saying again and again: Don’t be afraid. Trust him. He’s not asking us to do anything that will harm us.

Begin with prayer. Tell the Lord that you want to do better—you want to be better—but you need his help. Ask him to stir up your desire. Ask him to give you more patience, more tolerance, more compassion, more love. It’s definitely doable! I remember a few years ago, former Mayor Rudy Giuliani of New York wanted to clean up the city’s bad image, so he started a campaign gently prodding people to be nicer to one another. Guess what? They just published a poll that reports that New York City is now one of the ten friendliest cities in America! New York!

Our lesson today also reminds us that Jesus is completely inclusive. The apostles were annoyed because someone was driving out demons in Christ’s name and they wanted Jesus to stop him. Jesus wouldn’t. He said, Whoever is not against us is for us.

By the same token, we’ve got to remind ourselves constantly that Jesus loves all his children... and if he loves them and forgives them and lifts them up, what right do we have to put them down? So painful as it might be, cut off your prejudices, your grudges, your anger, your knee-jerk reactions against certain types of people. Let it go. Ask God for help to make it happen.

And finally, be proactive in doing good—in offering that proverbial cup of cold water. Make it a point to do at least one nice thing every day for somebody that you wouldn’t ordinarily think to do. Look carefully for opportunities. They’re all over! Just picture yourself in that wonderful TV commercial caught up in contagious kindness.

We pray today that the Lord will truly touch our hearts, inspire us to become spiritual surgeons, and help us to be kinder and more loving towards one another.