I have three mini-vignettes to start
our prayer for the week.
1) God is funny guy. I had written my homily for the 11:00 mass at St. Ann this
morning. As part of that homily, I was going to talk about an experience of the
poor asking for something from me at a very inconvenient time. And how I was
left to struggle – do I help them and how do I help them. So there I was,
talking with a server in the back, giving some last minute instructions. The
entrance hymn had begun. I turned, and there was one of the St. Ann beggars – “Fr.,
can you help me?” And I thought – God, you are a funny guy. Because
this was about the most inconvenient time I could imagine – Mass had started,
there were three hundred people in church, and this man was asking for help.
You know now is not the time and as I quickly set a time when I could help him,
I found myself praying that he doesn’t make a scene. “Please just
let him be quiet, Lord. Just let him agree to a different time and I can sort
it out later.” Do you know something similar? Whether it is the roommate
who needs to talk right in the middle of your huge project due tomorrow, or the
beggar you meet on the street – haven’t we all known similar experiences?
The disciples and followers of Jesus did what I would have done to Bartimaeus. “Jesus,
Son of David, have pity on me.” Be quiet. Shut up. Go away! Don’t
you know that Jesus has got important things to do, important teachings to be
about. Don’t bother him now. Now is not the time. It’s not convenient.
But he keeps shouting even louder. “Jesus, Son of David – mercy.” And
the response of Jesus – he stops. He puts aside his agenda. He lays aside
the teaching and the task he was about. And now the blind man is the focus of
all his attention. Amazing. Amazing. And I realize I have a long way to go on
my path of discipleship.
2) One of the Kempf family claims to fame is that Ray Repp, the author of a lot
of that first generation of guitar music for the liturgy, is my cousin. One of
his lesser known songs goes like this:
“
There’s a shade, ‘cross my window, and it’s keeping out of
viewall the lonely people standing in the yard. But to pull the shade is really
much
to hard. Kyrie, Kyrie, Eleieson.”
Face to face in front of Jesus – Bartimaeus hears the question he always
wanted to hear – but now from the one he believes is Messiah. “What
do you want me to do for you?” “I want it all, Lord; I want to see.
I want to see.” And because there is faith there, because he believes,
he is allowed to see it ALL… Not just the beauty, but the pain and the
suffering and the poverty – he sees it all. He sees it all.
Dare I pray for that same sight – to see it all? To embrace it all, as
did Bartimaeus?
3) We know that Bartimaeus sees it all because he begins to follow Jesus “en
te hodos” – literally “on the way”. On the road to Jerusalem.
On the road of discipleship. On the road where his faith and his sight have led
him. Because it is never enough just to see. It is never enough, just to notice
the poor. It has to lead our feet on the way of service. On Sunday of last week,
John Paul II beatified a woman who let what she saw put her feet on the road – Mother
Teresa of Calcutta. She never set out to change the world or establish an order
or do any of the astounding things that marked her life. What she did desire
was to go where she saw the greatest need. So she left behind a safe, predictable
life as a teacher, and began serving the poorest of the poor – the dying
on the streets of Calcutta. “En Te Hodos” On the way with Jesus of
Nazareth. Will you let what you see, put your feet on the road this week.
The poor never cry out in easy times, nor are they always polite or predictable.
But, if like Jesus, like Teresa of Calcutta, like Bartimaeus – we let
ourselves see, then may that seeing put us “on the way’ with Jesus
of Nazareth, the one who came, not to be served, but to serve…