Nothing to be Seen

Seeing the world with the eyes of faith

10/28/2018

Mark 10:46-52 As Jesus was leaving Jericho with his disciples and a sizable crowd, Bartimaeus, a blind man, the son of Timaeus, sat by the roadside begging. On hearing that it was Jesus of Nazareth, he began to cry out and say, "Jesus, son of David, have pity on me." And many rebuked him, telling him to be silent. But he kept calling out 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." He threw aside his cloak, sprang up, and came to Jesus. 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." Jesus told him, "Go your way; your faith has saved you." Immediately he received his sight and followed him on the way.

No one ever sees everything right before their eyes in any given moment. It is not only hard to take everything in; it is impossible. For instance, no one person in this church can see everything occurring at this minute in the Mass. If each person wrote down what they see, we would get as many answers as there are people. One would describe the poor priest at the pulpit trying to keep people awake. Another would describe the lights in the ceiling wondering about their wattage. A third would be watching the altar servers whispering to each other and trying make each other laugh. Another would be fascinated by why the candles on the altar never get smaller (they are oil, not wax). And yet another would complain they are bored at Mass and there is nothing to be seen at all in church. Everyone is experiencing the exact same phenomenon, but each person is seeing something different. No one person can take it all in, and sadly some take in nothing.

One of my favorite philosophers is the German thinker, Josef Pieper. In a brief essay called “Learning to See Again,” he described his experience of taking a ship from New York to Rotterdam. He astutely observed: “No human being has ever really seen everything that lies visibly in front of his eyes…Who would ever have perfectly perceived the countless shapes and shades of just one wave swelling and ebbing in the ocean!” He continued: “At table I had mentioned those magnificent fluorescent sea creatures whirled up to the surface by the hundreds in our ship’s bow wake. The next day, it was mentioned that ‘there was nothing to be seen’.” Some Catholics come to Mass and react like those passengers on the ship, saying: “There was nothing to be seen.” Whereas, people with eyes of faith would exclaim the opposite: “There was so much to be seen that I could not take it all in.”

The gospel presents us with an ironic episode where a lot of people perceive the same phenomenon, but it is a blind man who is able to see the most. Jesus is leaving Jericho accompanied by a large crowd, when a blind man named Bartimaeus cries out: “Jesus, Son of David, have pity on me!” Jesus stops and asks the man an apparently absurd question, “What do you want me to do for you?” I would have replied, “Well, what do you think?” Bartimaeus answers as anyone would expect (without my sarcasm), “Master, I want to see.” But I believe more is going on here than meets the eyes! I would submit to you that Bartimaeus already had sight – he could see! – that is, he enjoyed an abundant vision of faith before his miraculous cure, when his physical eyes were opened. That is why, while he was still physically blind, he addressed Jesus as, “Son of David,” which means he knew Jesus as the King of Israel, the rightful heir to the royal throne. Hearing that faith stops Jesus dead in his tracks and grabs his attention. Later after curing his physical blindness, Jesus declares: “Go on your way; your faith has saved you.” Jesus’ miraculous cure of physical blindness was predicated on the blind man’s spiritual vision, that he could already see with the eyes of faith. Even in his blind state, Bartimaeus was the one person on the road out of Jericho would never have said: “There was nothing to be seen!” On the contrary, the blind man could see more than those who had 20/20 eyesight because he was peering through the eyes of faith.

My friends, I believe we all need to cry out with blind Bartimaeus, “Lord, I want to see!”  We all suffer some form of blindness.  Maybe you really have poor or diminishing eyesight and would like Jesus to heal you and restore your 20/20 vision. I would love to stop wearing these readers. But even if we have perfect vision, we still need to cry out, “Lord I want to see!” We need sharper vision of faith. Why? Well, sometimes our faith becomes blurry because of all the scandals in the Church. I don’t know about you, but it breaks my heart to see bishops and archbishops bickering like grade school children. These are the prelates and princes of the Catholic Church, and I am embarrassed by the example we are showing the world. In the face of these scandals, I cry like Bartimaeus, “Lord, I want to see!” I want to see the Church as the spotless and beautiful Bride of Jesus. To see the Church as she truly is requires the eyes of faith.  Those without faith say “there is nothing to be seen,” and leave the Church.

Sometimes, our own sins and selfishness and smallness can blind us to God’s grace at work in our lives. We think we may never overcome some habitual sin, or forgive and forget a hurt someone caused us, or find peace and joy because we lost a loved one to illness or death. In these moments, cry out with Bartimaeus, “Lord, I want to see!” And God will open your eyes to see what St. Paul saw when he declared in Romans 5:20: “Where sin abounds, there grace abounds all the more.” When you look with the eyes of faith you always see more grace than sin.

Bette Midler sang about seeing, too, in her song “The Rose.” Here’s the last verse: “When the night has been too lonely, and the road has been too long. / And you think that love is only for the lucky and the strong / Just remember in the winter, far beneath the bitter snows / Lies the seed, that with the sun’s love in the spring becomes the rose.” Many people look at a winter landscape laiden heavy with snow and pronounce: “There is nothing to be seen here!” But those who look at the world with the eyes of faith always see the seed that will sprout into the rose. When you come to Mass and stare intently at the Eucharist with faith, you might see something surprising. Someone is staring back.  Those with eyes of faith always see the most.

Praised be Jesus Christ!