Quinquagesima Sunday 2010

If a man will only despise and overbear these obstacles from a world which calls itself Christian; if, despite of all opposers, he will go on, until Christ is evidently and plainly with him, then the very same who at the first checked and reprehended, will in the end applaud and admire; they who at first exclaimed, ‘He is mad,’ will end exclaiming, ‘He is a saint.’

Perhaps one of the greatest obstacles to spiritual growth in the Christian religion is other people. Think about it; how often do we struggle to allow the Lord Jesus Christ to be born in us, only to find that other Christians cannot bear it? We receive looks of condemnation, judgment and ridicule. We are the objects of gossip and criticism, from the very people who ought to be rejoicing over our attempts to embrace the Love of God in our lives. So often we are truly trying to “have the gift of charity” operative in our souls, and we find that the same gift is not sought after by fellow Christians.

Now this is of course a horrible reality that we endure. But for those who do not seek it, the name or appellation of “Christian” cannot be applied truly. For the essence and nature of the Christian religion should consist in our persistent desire to have God’s love working in us. Our first vocation is to seek out and even demand God’s love, as that which alone can heal us. Our second vocation is to cultivate that gift of charity in our hearts and souls, so that our thoughts, words and works reveal its moving power in our lives. The resultant reality will then be that the gift of charity will be seen in us by others, and in seeing it, they too will be inspired to seek it out, find it and possess it.

In this morning’s Gospel lesson we find an illustration of our first vocation. The Gospel taken from the eighteenth chapter of St. Luke, records the instance of a man who persistently seeks out the healing power of Christ Jesus, who cries out to be touched by the loving hand of Jesus, so that he may see. This man desires to see. On a very basic level he desires to see with his physical eyes. On a deeper level he longs to see Jesus, to see Love in the flesh, whose power calls its seekers to behold the true nature of God’s mercy in action, his compassion and kindness in time and space. This deeper form of longing is spiritual in nature, for it reveals the age-old desire of man to see God, to commune and speak with him, to dwell with him. It might be said that this man, blind from birth, reveals to us the kind of person whom Jesus calls to go with him up to Jerusalem, as we read in the same Gospel today. For truly, if our going up to Jerusalem with Jesus is to have any meaning, our longing and desire to see and understand him will be needed.

Jesus says to his Apostles, “Behold we went up to Jerusalem, and all things that are written by the prophets concerning the Son of Man shall be accomplished. For he shall be delivered unto the Gentiles, and shall be mocked, and spitefully entreated, and spitted on; and they shall scourge him and put him to death; and the third day he shall rise again. And they understood none of these things: and this saying was hid from them, neither knew they the things that were spoken.” Jesus tells his friends that they must go up with him to see and experience the unfolding reality of God’s love. But they are blind, the meaning and truth of his words are hidden from them. They have earthly eyes with which they see, but the eyes of their souls are blinded to what will come to pass. The Apostles are without sight, and so will not grasp truly what it is they go up to Jerusalem to see. But as they go up, they encounter our blind man, who learns by the word heard, that Jesus of Nazareth is passing by, and in a remarkable way does see. He cannot see with his earthly eyes, but he does see inwardly and spiritually that the powerful love of God is with men, and is passing by him in the person of Jesus Christ. The powerful love of God is with him and in the midst of him, and he sees this clearly with his heart. His inner sight sees that the merciful activity of God’s love is with Jesus and in him, and so he persists in securing the healing touch of that love. But the crowd rebukes him, and tries to shut him up. But he will have none of it. He cries out all the more “Jesus thou Son of David have mercy on me…Thou Son of David, have mercy on me.” Jesus approaches him and asks him what he desires. He says, “Lord that I might receive my sight.” Jesus responds, “Receive thy sight, thy faith have saved thee.” We learn that the blind man’s faith in the love and power of God, in Jesus, heals him and give him his sight. The man has that inner desire and longing for the love of Jesus Christ, and his example opens the eyes of the Apostles to that essential disposition that must characterize the lives of those who will go up with Jesus to Jerusalem. The man desires to see Jesus. He persists in his determination to be able to do so. His faith reveals that the true vision and keen sight, real understanding and comprehension cannot come to a man without the healing touch of God’s love. This man cannot see Jesus with his physical eyes, but in his heart he sees him and so pursues him. He longs to have the work and labour of love change and transform him, in order that he might not only see the world around him, but that he might see Jesus.

The faith of this man is that virtue which we need if we are to have our spiritual eyes opened to what will come to pass as we journey in Lent with Jesus up to Jerusalem. Faith longs to see Jesus, it desires to make the journey into light, and so asks the Lord to open our eyes. Without spiritual light, the pilgrimage which we begin on Ash Wednesday, will have no meaning. So faith asks for the spiritual light in order to see and experience God’s love expressed in the passion, crucifixion and resurrection of our Saviour. What must we begin with, in order to go up to Jerusalem with Jesus? Faith that seeks light in order to see. Faith in the One who always walks into our lives, in order to open the eyes of our hearts and souls to the labour of love which He works for us. What would you have me do for you, asks Jesus? “Lord that I may receive my sight.”

Our journey up to Jerusalem with Jesus is a journey into understanding and grasping the meaning of Divine Love expressed in the death and resurrection of the Lord. What we stand to see and experience is the love of God and the love of man ceaselessly offered to us from the heart of Jesus. Faith seeks to see and know this love. Hope pursues it persistently. The object of our quest is that the love of God in the heart of Jesus should touch us, heal us and manifest itself through us. And this is what St. Paul is talking about in this morning’s Epistle reading. We seek the heaven of God’s love; that is our end. In heaven there will be no faith and no hope. Faith is trust in what is not yet perfectly seen and experienced. Hope is that spiritual energy of expectation and longing. But love begins here and extends into heaven. In heaven God’s goodness shall be seen and possessed. His goodness is love, that knot of permanent unity and communion with himself. We seek to be moved by God’s love in the life of Jesus Christ. And that love is meant to change us and remake us.

So St. Paul makes clear that our earthly pilgrimage to the heavenly city must even now be evidenced by love. This is our second vocation. What do we seek even now? We desire to embrace what we see and experience in the operation of Divine Love in Jesus Christ. What we need in order to see and to experience the meaning of God with us in Jesus Christ, is the love of God which desires to heal and transform our bodies and our souls. We are meant to become those who would become grown men, and so, having “put away childish things”, with mature minds are to admit what we need and to accept it from God. What we need is the love of God, which alone can heal us and remake us. That love we receive from Jesus. That love we pass on to others in thought, word and deed. “Behold we go up to Jerusalem.” Behold we go up to see and experience once again the unfolding drama of God’s love for us. In Lent we put away childish things, indeed we put away our self-seeking, self-loving and self-love. In Lent we become as those who would be touched and changed by the love of Jesus Christ.

In closing, what St. Paul teaches about love in this morning’s Epistle, is that this love or this charity is first seen and experienced in the life of Jesus Christ, and that it is then to become what moves and defines us. In the passion and crucifixion, and then in the resurrection, we shall see and experience Divine Charity at work in the world. We shall see in the offering of Jesus Christ for us that “charity suffereth long, and is kind; charity envieth not; charity vaunteth not itself, is not puffed up, doth not behave itself unseemly, seeketh not her own, is not easily provoked, thinketh no evil; rejoiceth not in iniquity, but rejoiceth in the truth; beareth all things, believeth all things, hopeth all things, endureth all things.” What we shall see is that this definition of charity or love comes to us from the sacrifice and giving of Jesus Christ. What St. Paul describes is what we shall see and experience as we go up to Jerusalem, if first our faith in Jesus Christ, persistently longs for the gift of sight, that we might follow him, and in the end be filled with that charity that transforms us into vessels and carriers of it to others. In closing, let us listen to the words of Miles Coverdale who exhorts us to see, to experience, to embrace and cultivate the love of God in Jesus Christ. He exhorts us to give our hearts and souls completely to the Lord, who never ceases to offer his love to us. He writes:

“Our heart must we give wholly unto him; that hath opened his heart so wide.  His heart and ours must be all one.  Nothing requireth he of us but the heart.  ‘Son,’ saith he, ‘give me thy heart.’

Miles Coverdale: Fruitful Lessons on the Passion.

© W.J. Martin†