Showing posts with label bartimaeus. Show all posts
Showing posts with label bartimaeus. Show all posts

Monday, October 28, 2024

30th Sunday in Ordinary Time 2024 - Blind Bartimaeus and Priesthood Sunday

 

Since 2003, the last Sunday of October is designated as Priesthood Sunday— an opportunity for us to reflect upon the role of the ordained priesthood in the life of the Church.  

Today we welcome Tate Johnson, a second year seminarian at Borromeo Seminary here in Cleveland, who will speak to us after communion about his own discernment and formation for the priesthood.

For the homily today, I’d like to consider the role of the priest in light of our Gospel reading---the story of Bartimaeus.  The story offers several meaningful insights relevant to Priesthood Sunday and the priestly vocation and our own call to holiness.

The story begins with blind Bartimaeus crying out to Jesus. In the course of his ministry, the priest encounters countless people who are crying out to Jesus. Many of them, like Bartimaeus, have a hard time seeing Jesus due to the challenging circumstances of their life—a crisis, an illness, a unique encounter with the evils of the world or in their own heart. 

The priest helps people see Jesus. Particularly at Mass, right? The priest has a unique role in the Church to help others see Jesus. Through the celebration of the sacraments—the priest makes Jesus present through the sacramental rituals, particularly in the changing of bread and wine into the Lord’s Body and Blood so we can see Him present in our midst. Also in the homily, hopefully, each week, I help you see Jesus in the concrete details of your life. 

One of my favorite functions in the priestly ministry is to teach OCIA. I’m always pleased to meet those souls hungering, longing to see Jesus. And in those sessions their eyes become more and more attuned to Jesus present in the Catholic Church and come to understand the invitation Jesus makes to them—to come and be changed and transformed. 

Consider another detail in the Bartimeus story. Bartimaeus longs for Jesus, but many in the crowd make it difficult for him—they tell him that he is wasting his time. Similarly, there are many forces in the world today which tell us that we are wasting our time turning to the Lord and seeking to follow Him. The priest has a role in helping members of the Church to take courage in standing up against the worldly forces that seek to silence the Church and to ensure that we never ally ourselves with those terrible powers.

As many of you know, I was appointed by Bishop Malesic as Chaplain for an apostolate called Courage International which helps men and women with same-sex attraction live faithfully the Lord’s call to follow him. Now the world tells them, ah, just give in to your impulses. But, Christians recognize that not every impulse leads to Jesus. Rather, we need to restrain and discipline those impulses that are misaligned. And priests help others break through those wordly voices. Thanks be to God for those priests who tell us the truth and encourage us. 

Next in the story, Bartimaeus runs to Jesus, and Jesus surprisingly asks, “what do you want?” It’s surprising because Jesus already knows what Bartimaeus wants and needs. Jesus can read his heart, he made him. But Jesus asks, and listens. This reflects a very important aspect of priestly ministry. Listening. Before a priest can offer words of advice, or spiritual guidance, or make decisions regarding the life of a parish, he needs to listen. I hope that when you have brought your concerns to me, you have felt listened to. 

You might not have received the answer you liked, I can’t promise that all the time, but I hope that you’ve felt that your concern was taken seriously and it was given the attention it deserved. 

But moreso, we’re not just talking about decisions about clambakes here. The priest takes concerns of the soul with profound seriousness. If you are seeking to follow Jesus more faithfully, more deeply, the priest will listen and pray for you and with you and bring your concerns to the Lord.

Finally, in the story, Jesus heals Bartimaeus.

The ministry of the priest certainly has a healing dimension. Every priest is called to dispense the healing of Jesus Christ primarily in the Sacrament of Confession and the Sacrament of Anointing of the Sick.

The Confessional is a place of the most profound healing, a healing of those wounds we inflict on our relationship with God and our fellow man through sin. Now yes, some of our spiritual wounds can be healed in other ways—our venial sins can be healed through repentance and reception of the Eucharist. But our most serious sins, our grave sins, our mortal sins, can those mortal wounds can be healed only in the Sacrament of Confession. 

When we confess our sins to a priest and receive absolution we know that a profound healing occurs at that moment—we feel lighter, we feel the weight of guilt relieved, we feel peace. And I hope that no one here is depriving themselves of the healing that Jesus is waiting to dispense to you through his priests. I hope that neither pride, nor shame, nor embarrassment is keeping you from crying out like Bartimaeus for healing. If you can ‘t get to confession on Saturday afternoons or Sunday mornings, give me a call, we can schedule something. I’m not too busy to hear your confessions, that’s why I’m here. 

Similarly, with the Sacrament of Anointing. If you are going in for serious surgery, or you’ve gotten a serious diagnosis, or you feel the effects of old age or declining health really taking its toll, all you have to do is call, and say, Father, I’d like to receive the Anointing of the Sick. For through that Sacrament Jesus gives powerful spiritual healing and spiritual strength to bear our afflictions with grace.

Recall, that every priest is also Bartimaeus, with his own blindnesses. So always please be patient with your priests, with the same patience you would want for yourself.

And recall too that every member of the Church has a priestly role, of bringing souls to Jesus, of listening to the afflicted and offering wise counsel and comfort, and seeking as best we can to be instruments of the Lord’s healing. Every soul we encounter is another Bartimaeus, who deep down longs to see the Lord.

May all priests and all the priestly people of God be strengthened in their vocations of service and holiness for the glory of God and the salvation of souls.


Sunday, October 24, 2021

30th Sunday in Ordinary Time 2021 - Discipleship lessons from Blind Bartimaeus

The 10th Chapter of Mark is a long chapter, the longest in the entire Gospel until we get to the Passion narrative in chapter 14. We’ve hearing from chapter 10 all month. It began, you might remember with Jesus’ teaching on marriage and divorce, then we heard of the rich young man who goes away sad when challenged by the Lord to leave his possessions and follow Him; had we not celebrated our patronal feast last weekend, we would have heard the story of James and John, the sons of Zebedee, vying for a high position in the Lord’s kingdom. This week we conclude chapter 10 with a beloved story, the healing of blind Bartimaeus. This is the very last healing miracle in Mark’s Gospel, and a very significant one, at that.

In this miracle story, we get a lot of details leading up to the miracle: Mark includes where Bartimaeus was standing, what he was doing when the Lord made his way out of Jericho, how he got the Lord’s attention, the annoyance of the other members of the crowd, the exuberance with which Bartimaeus leaped up, shedding his cloak so that nothing may hinder, the tender dialogue between Jesus and the blind man, and then Bartimaeus’ response of gratitude. All this in six verses!

Consider this story in light of the other stories in this chapter. Where the Pharisees harden their hearts against the teachings of Jesus and his identity as Messiah at the beginning of the chapter, Bartimaeus acknowledges Jesus as the Son of David and recognizes that Jesus has the power of God within him. Where James and John seek a position of power to lord over others, Bartimaeus approaches Jesus as a beggar, seeking nothing but healing. Where the rich young man refuses to follow Jesus and goes away sad, Bartimaeus joyfully follows the Lord on the way.

Bartimaeus is a model of the true discipleship that seems to elude just about everybody else in Mark’s Gospel, including Peter and the Apostles. Since he is a model of discipleship, what do we have to learn from him?

Firstly, we must recognize that like him, before meeting the Lord Jesus we are blind. Without Jesus, we are standing on the side of the road, not knowing which way is which, blind and not going anywhere. We might not be physically blind, but without Jesus, something is missing, we are without the light that is meant to guide our earthly lives. St Paul writes to the Corinthians: “The god of this age has blinded the minds of unbelievers, so that they cannot see the light of the gospel.”

Through sin, Satan has placed a blindfold on the eyes of the world. And even among the baptized, he is always trying to get us to put the blindfold back on, so that without the light of the Gospel, we walk not toward heaven, but toward hell. Sadly, there are members of the baptized who have let him, or perhaps have blindfolds because their parents had them baptized but never raised them to see Jesus and follow Jesus. But there are people in the world, in our neighborhood, in our workplaces, who like Bartimaeus, are blind, but want to see. So we need to ensure that the light of Christ is shining brightly in our lives. 

Secondly, Bartimaeus models for us what it means to prioritize faith. He makes looking for Jesus his highest priority. And he does so with a sort of courageous recklessness. On the side of the road, he starts making a commotion. He doesn’t care what people think of him, he wants to get Jesus’ attention, he wants to encounter Jesus, and he pursues Jesus with a praiseworthy singlemindedness. When people tell him to quiet down, he cries out all the more for Jesus. He might have been labeled as a fanatic, or a zealot, or obnoxious; he doesn’t care. He cries out and keeps crying out “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!” with perseverance, intensity, and passion. Bartimaeus recognized that searching for Jesus must be our highest priority. And so must we. As Christians, are days and our weeks are to be structured around Jesus. Seeking him in prayer, engaging in the works he commands. Sunday Mass without compromise. Daily prayer without excuse.

Thirdly, Bartimaeus shows us that we must throw off our cloaks to approach Jesus. The thick, heavy cloak of the people of Israel was among their most prized possessions. It was protection against the rapid and frequent temperature changes, insulation against the harsh Judean winds, and at night it doubled as a blanket, especially for the poorer residents of the Holy Land, like Bartimaeus.

For these reasons, the Fathers of the Church have seen in this cloak a symbol of self- sufficiency, a symbol of our deep-seated tendency to think that we are capable of solving all of our problems on our own.

The cloak symbolizes all those things that we wrongly depend on for happiness, that we tend to idolize: good looks, intelligence, athletic ability, money, good education, success, popularity. You’ll never regret giving up television in order to pray and engage in charity, like taking part in our parish St. Vincent de Paul group. Don’t be afraid to rearrange things, to make prayer and charitable service a more deliberate part of your life.

Fourthly, notice how Bartimaeus is specific in his prayer. I want to see. Daily, we need to make specific petitions to the Lord. Bring to prayer that sick family member, pray by name for that clueless politician, for the return of lapsed Catholics, and like Bartimaeus, don’t give up and enunciate your petitions clearly: Master I want my son to be saved from addiction. Master, I want peace in my family. Master, I want healing for my friend. Master, I want a good job. 

Lastly, having persisted in crying out to the Lord, throwing off his cloak, clearly enunciating his request to the Lord, he is healed, and then in gratitude, he abandons all that he has to follow Jesus.

There are a lot of people who cry out to God, they pray for healing, for peace, but when the prayer is answered, they go their own way. They are like the nine lepers, who healed by Jesus, fail to recognize and show gratitude to Jesus. Or the lame man at the pool of Bethesda. He received healing then went on to a life of sin. There are those who pray in desperate moments and then when the crisis is passed they return to their virtually faithless lifestyle.

But, not Bartimaeus. “Bartimaeus received his sight and followed Jesus on the way.” His physical blindness was healed, but more importantly the eyes of his heart were enlightened. Bartimaeus is the only recipient of a healing whose name is recorded by St. Mark, certainly suggesting that Bartimaeus continued to follow the Lord after his healing, and was a disciple known to the early Church. 

I recommend some time this week, opening your bibles back to chapter 10 of Mark’s Gospel, reading through this story again, and asking the Lord to help you identify your blindnesses, how you can better seek Him in your life, what cloak, what safety blanket, you need to throw off, in order to follow the Lord with greater trust, and shine with the light of the Lord for the glory of God and salvation of souls.


Sunday, October 28, 2018

Priesthood Sunday 2018 - Master, I want to See

In my nine and a half years of priesthood, I’ve had the honor of living and serving with almost a dozen priests. One was a former Certified Public Accountant, one was called to the priesthood later in life after having children and being left a widower; one had taken a year off of seminary to work to support his mother after the death of his father, another liked to begin every homily with a joke. One priest was among our diocese’s most talented organists, another likes hunting wild boar; one liked to dine on fine white tablecloths, another has visited more hospitalized, sick, and dying Catholics than the rest combined.

I’ve been inspired by my brother priests, frustrated by my brother priests, have laughed with and cried with my brother priests, played video games, and attended opera, gone on pilgrimage and debated theology into the night with my brother priests.

Since 2003, in the United States, the last Sunday of October for us Catholics is known as Priesthood Sunday.

On this priesthood Sunday, we pray for priests. Because we need priests. Priests to baptize, priests to absolve our sins, priests to celebrate the Eucharist, priests to help hardened sinners return to Christ, priests to help families live the Gospel faithfully.  We will need priests until the end of time, to carry out the ordained ministry according to Christ’s plan for his Church.

A parish like this has many young men with so much potential. Men who could be doctors, lawyers, engineers, teachers, men who could have a pretty successful college sports career.  Young men who could be successful in the world of business or politics, and we hope many will be.  Because we need men of strong faith in the world. And we need men who will be strong leaders of faith in their families, strong faithful catholic husbands and fathers.

But the Church also needs men who will visit the dying, who will go where the bishop sends them to celebrate the sacraments, who will listen to sins of God’s people and tell them that they are forgiven. We need priests who will shepherd parishes with the heart of Christ the Good Shepherd and remind parishes that they are part of something bigger, a church that is led by bishops and popes, some of them saints, all of them sinners. We need priests to teach us that we are part of something ancient, a tradition where latin and Greek were spoken in catacombs, where Christians prepared for martyrdom at the hands of hostile governments. We need priests to help those doctors and lawyers and professionals to practice their professions in a manner consistent with the Gospel of Christ, and to assist, in fresh, new ways, our younger generations to encounter Christ--priests to help us see the goodness of God and the goodness in ourselves.


There are over 90 men in this diocese currently studying at our seminary here in Cleveland.  Men, who, like blind Bartimaeus in the Gospel today, have cried out to the Lord Jesus, “Master, I want to see.” I want to see how you are calling me to serve you. I want to see the places where you will lead me. I want to see how the priesthood can transform the world.

No doubt, each of us does well to make that same request to the Lord: “Master, I want to see” I want to see how you are at work in my life. I want to see how, even in the tragedies of life and the chaos of the world, you are there, bringing peace and order and justice. I want to see your light pierce through my darkness. Master, I want to see what I can do to follow you more faithfully, as a parent, as a single person, as a priest or religious.

[Holy Angels: In light of Fr. Ruggeri’s leave of absence and Fr. Bang’s reassignment, there’s need, isn’t there to the Lord to bring light to this particular period of darkness. “Master, I want to see” how you are preparing this parish for the next stage of its mission. I encourage you to pray for each other every day, to lift up each other’s needs to the Lord and to pray for Fr. Ruggeri, Fr. Bang, and for the bishop, that the Lord’s healing power may visit this place. For if the Lord can heal an old blind man, he can certainly bring healing to this place which is so full of life.]

We are reminded by our second reading from the letter to the Hebrews that priests aren’t perfect, they aren’t chosen from some special group of spiritual supermen. The Letter to the Hebrews says, the “priest is taken from among men” and made a representative before God, to offer gifts and sacrifices for sins. He is able to deal patiently with the ignorant and erring, for he himself is beset by weakness.” The Lord calls ordinary men to do extraordinary things. Ordinary men who are beset with weakness and temptation like any of us..

Now, certainly the holier the priest is the better. A priest dedicated to prayer, serving the Lord in humility and gentleness and patience and courage is to be preferred to a priest who doesn’t pray, who is arrogant and harsh and morally compromised. Yet, we commit to praying for all priests, that the Lord may use them, despite their weaknesses, to build up the Church, with patience, gentleness, humility, and courage.

May each of us do our part in fostering healthy, holy priestly vocations. We pray that our young men may have the courage to answer that call with generous hearts, that all of us will be generous in our support for such young men—and that all priests might be renewed and strengthened in holiness for the carrying out and preaching of the Gospel—that the good work God has begun in them, might be brought to fulfillment—for the glory of God and salvation of souls.