Hand in Hand
October 25, 2024 at 11:12 a.m.
Thirtieth Sunday in Ordinary Time
Three months ago, my brother and I were walking along the streets of a Midwest city amidst an excited crowd of people. As I made my way from the streets onto a grassy field, the crowd dispersed, and I took a moment to look around. There was an array of commotion, some people chatting, others singing, more praying, all of whom were walking in the same direction. A pair of strangers several feet from me caught my eye. A mother leading her son forward by the hand. I followed the gaze of the mother to a tall monument with the most beautiful image I have ever seen: the Blessed Sacrament rightly and justly surrounded by a wave of priests and exalted by a crowd of 60,000 reverent people. For some reason, Jesus decided to gather His people from the ends of the world to Indianapolis.
The five days of the Eucharistic Congress were nothing short of a vision of heaven on earth. And at the same time, a great call to bring this heaven to all ends of the earth. Sunday’s Gospel talks about Bartimaeus, the blind man crying out to Jesus, who represents all of us, beggars who lack God’s vision. Before Jesus does anything, Bartimaeus is told to take courage. Why? Because to open our eyes, to witness the truths of the world and ourselves is a scary reality and it takes courage to trust that God is in control. Our lack of vision and knowledge tells us that if God was in control, there would be more compassion and less suffering, so we must allow our courage to lead us on anyway.
A great theme in Indianapolis was repentance, a surprising topic to proclaim to a group full of devout believers, but so appropriate in a world where secular culture and the Christian faith are so divided. As Christians, we pride ourselves on all the moral things we’re doing, but let’s not forget that along with the rest of society, we too are sinners. We are beggars ashamed to beg, blind men ashamed to ask for sight, but shame does not lead to the road of repentance. Rather, we should be as St. Paul, boasting of our weaknesses, because this is how we bring heaven to earth and Christ to His people. Jesus is revealed in our weakness and through our hearts, particularly in the depths where our vision is blurry.
Imitating the son being led on by his mother, we too must grasp the hand of Mary as she leads us to Jesus. The path she takes us requires repentance, times of humility in admitting our wrongs, times of courage in addressing our wounds, times of patience amid persecution. The path Mary takes us requires a cry like Bartimaeus, “Son of David, have pity on me”, not unlike the prayer of the Church:
Lord, have mercy,
Christ, have mercy,
Lord, have mercy.
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Thirtieth Sunday in Ordinary Time
Three months ago, my brother and I were walking along the streets of a Midwest city amidst an excited crowd of people. As I made my way from the streets onto a grassy field, the crowd dispersed, and I took a moment to look around. There was an array of commotion, some people chatting, others singing, more praying, all of whom were walking in the same direction. A pair of strangers several feet from me caught my eye. A mother leading her son forward by the hand. I followed the gaze of the mother to a tall monument with the most beautiful image I have ever seen: the Blessed Sacrament rightly and justly surrounded by a wave of priests and exalted by a crowd of 60,000 reverent people. For some reason, Jesus decided to gather His people from the ends of the world to Indianapolis.
The five days of the Eucharistic Congress were nothing short of a vision of heaven on earth. And at the same time, a great call to bring this heaven to all ends of the earth. Sunday’s Gospel talks about Bartimaeus, the blind man crying out to Jesus, who represents all of us, beggars who lack God’s vision. Before Jesus does anything, Bartimaeus is told to take courage. Why? Because to open our eyes, to witness the truths of the world and ourselves is a scary reality and it takes courage to trust that God is in control. Our lack of vision and knowledge tells us that if God was in control, there would be more compassion and less suffering, so we must allow our courage to lead us on anyway.
A great theme in Indianapolis was repentance, a surprising topic to proclaim to a group full of devout believers, but so appropriate in a world where secular culture and the Christian faith are so divided. As Christians, we pride ourselves on all the moral things we’re doing, but let’s not forget that along with the rest of society, we too are sinners. We are beggars ashamed to beg, blind men ashamed to ask for sight, but shame does not lead to the road of repentance. Rather, we should be as St. Paul, boasting of our weaknesses, because this is how we bring heaven to earth and Christ to His people. Jesus is revealed in our weakness and through our hearts, particularly in the depths where our vision is blurry.
Imitating the son being led on by his mother, we too must grasp the hand of Mary as she leads us to Jesus. The path she takes us requires repentance, times of humility in admitting our wrongs, times of courage in addressing our wounds, times of patience amid persecution. The path Mary takes us requires a cry like Bartimaeus, “Son of David, have pity on me”, not unlike the prayer of the Church:
Lord, have mercy,
Christ, have mercy,
Lord, have mercy.