Friday of the First Week of Advent

Magnolia fruit?

Lectionary: 179

On that day the deaf shall hear
the words of a book;
And out of gloom and darkness,
the eyes of the blind shall see.
The lowly will ever find joy in the LORD,
and the poor rejoice in the Holy One of Israel....

When his children see
the work of my hands in his midst,
They shall keep my name holy;
they shall reverence the Holy One of Jacob,
and be in awe of the God of Israel.

Today’s gospel concerns the healing of two blind men but it celebrates the faith that gave them sight:

"Do you believe that I can do this?" "Yes, Lord," they said to him.Then he touched their eyes and said,"Let it be done for you according to your faith."And their eyes were opened.

Attempting to explain our loyalty to Jesus and what he means to us, we use the metaphors of darkness and light, blindness and vision: “I was blind but now I see.” But of course many faith-impaired people around us insist they see quite as well as we do.

Linguistic analysis speaks of a “lens” through which to see reality. If I cannot walk a mile in your moccasins, perhaps I can see through your lens. Feminists see paternalism where some men see only well-intentioned generosity. The poor see exploitation where the powerful see a win/win opportunity. Minorities hear racism and hatred where others intend only good humor. A lot depends upon how you see things; what lens you are using.

The Gospel serves as kind of lens for Christians. (I use the analogy with some reservation because we are speaking of an inexplicable mystery.) The Gospel helps us first to see the opportunities for freedom, healing and reassurance that God offers us. Then it reveals our sins and, occasionally, the enormity of our sins. Finally grace reveals how we must walk in the footsteps of Jesus. (These are the Purgative, Illuminative, and Unitive ways of classical Christian spirituality.)

This “gospel lens” helps us to become aware of what is really happening to us and around us, and how we contribute to it. In prayer we see our fears more clearly, as Jesus felt his in Gethsemane. And, in prayer, they pass. We see our resentments, prejudices and unwholesome desires more clearly – in all their ugliness – and they lose their charm.

Toward the end of his life, Saint Francis realized that everything he wanted as a young man had become hideous to him in his maturity; and everything that was repulsive became most desirable. His new sight also transformed his senses of smell, taste, hearing and touch. The privations that once drove him half-mad with fear, he pursued with the ardor of a lover. He lost even his need for safety and security, much preferring the shelter of an open sky and God's protection in the lawless wild.

That was the freedom the blind men found in their brief encounter with Jesus. Suddenly set free of blindness they saw clearly the Kingdom of God. They could not contain their joy and spread the good news about him.