4th Sunday of Lent 2026 - To see with the eyes of Christ

 

The story of the man born blind comes just a few chapters after last Sunday’s Gospel, the story of the woman at the well. Last week, we heard of the woman estranged from her community, going from one assumably failed marriage to the next, estranged from her God. Yet, Jesus comes into the messiness of her life, and offers her a drink of the life-giving waters that well up to eternal life. Her story is our story. Jesus doesn’t wait for our lives to be perfect, he enters into the messiness of our lives, and offers us water to drink—and sends us out to offer that life-giving water to others.

In the Gospel today, we heard of the man born blind.  His story, also, is our story. Each of us struggles with some amount of spiritual blindness. We don’t see as we should.  We don’t see our neighbor as we should, we don’t see our God as we should, we don’t see ourselves as we should, we don’t see the changes we need to make in our lives, in the patterns of our speech and behavior, as we should.  As Jesus offered sight to the blind man at the pool of siloam, so too, He offers sight to us, as well.

Jesus Christ came to restore sight to the spiritually blind, and so by the light of Christ, we are now able live in the light of the truth, not only avoiding those behaviors and attitudes that are harmful to our souls, but seeing how good it is to live virtuously. Spiritual sight helps us to be ever-more attentive to the needs of the suffering, so that we may come to their aid. Spiritual sight even enables us to see ourselves as God sees us, as sons and daughters worth dying for.

The ancient theologian Origen said, “to be holy is to see with the eyes of Christ.”  “To be holy is to see with the eyes of Christ.” 

Here’s an illustration from my own life. During the semester I studied in Rome, I attended several masses at St. Peter’s basilica. Pope St. John Paul II was Pope, and the basilica would often be packed with those hoping to get close to the saintly Holy Father. During Holy Week that year, I went to St. Peter’s for the Chrism mass at which the Pope blesses the holy oils for the upcoming year. I got there very early so that I could get a good seat, and I found myself right on the aisle, where the Pope would be processing up to the altar.

This was in 2004, and the Pope’s health was not great, but he walked up the aisle that day, and I tell you, for a moment, the saint and I locked eyes. And it was if I was looking right into the eyes of Jesus. This spiritual light emanated from the eyes of the Pope. And I felt seen by God, and loved, and confirmed in my vocation. It was so beautiful. I saw the love of Jesus in the Pope’s eyes—a love that was for me and for all. He was truly a saint, for he “saw with the eyes of Christ”, as Origen said, which are eyes of love.

And that’s the goal for all of us: to be so filled with the light of God, the peace of God, the wisdom of God, the compassion of God, that we see with the eyes of Christ. But that only happens when we allow ourselves to be washed, and cleansed, healed and anointed.

When people look into your eyes, what do they see? Harshness, criticism, rash judgment, annoyance? Or do they see patience? Do they see welcome and understanding? Do they see someone who will calmly lead them to the God? If not, why not?

What has yet to be healed in you, so that the light of God can be seen in your eyes? What spiritual blindness is causing you to see not with the eyes of Christ, but with the eyes of the world—the cold, calculating, critical, self-interested eyes of the world? Do you see others as inconveniences or people God has put into your life for you to love?

When we seek to see Christ in others, they will see Christ in us. That was certainly true for the other saintliest group people I have ever met, the missionary sisters of charity, the order of consecrated religious sisters founded by St. Mother Theresa.

I told this story during my first weekend as pastor, how each Friday, when I lived in Rome I would volunteer at the missionary sisters of charity men’s homeless shelter. 

Each week, a group of us seminarians and college students were blessed to work along the sisters in their care for the homeless. And it was always so powerful to be serving alongside these holy woman. Each one of the sisters had this beautiful Christ-like light in their eyes. For their charism was to see Christ in others, and to serve the poorest of the poor as they would serve Christ himself.

We would assist with serving breakfast to the homeless men, and helping the sisters do the laundry. Since Mother Theresa didn’t believe in modern conveniences like electric washing machines, this meant washing the homeless men’s clothing, soiled sheets and towels on old fashioned scrub boards.

One Friday, during Lent, one of the seminarians asked one of the sisters, “Sister, are you ready for Easter?” And in all seriousness she replied, “No, I still have much dying to do.” And she was probably one of the most joyful people I had ever met. “No, I still have much dying to do”. Here was a woman who lived every day in what appeared to be total- selflessness—no possessions, no comforts, spending her days washing soiled sheets and washing the grime off of the homeless. Yet she said, “I still have much dying to do.”

I think about her words quite a bit. For, I know that her words contain one of the most important lessons: that without dying to self, without learning to see with eyes purified by the salve of Christ, we will never have real joy.

On the fourth Sunday of Lent—Laetare Sunday—the priest vests in rose-colored vestments, the color of dawn's first light before sunrise. The liturgical color, rose, symbolizes joyful anticipation for easter—signaling that easter joy is on the horizon. And, yet at the half way point of Lent, it is a reminder that if we want to see that joy, we still have much dying to do.

Our Lenten prayer, fasting, and almsgiving, our Lenten repenting, our Lenten penances, our Lenten confessions are aimed at helping us to die to self that we may see rightly. “Blessed are the pure of heart, for they shall see God”.

From what do I still need to be purified? What impurity is still rooted in me so deeply that I don’t even detect it? Or what impurity am I afraid to acknowledge because of the change that will be demanded of me if it is healed?

To remain in spiritual darkness is to be deprived of joy. There are none so blind than those who choose not to see, and they are quite joyless as well.

 But, the Lord wishes that joy may be in us and joy may be in abundance. So may we not be afraid to expose the darkest parts of our lives to the light of the Lord, to allow him to heal us, to fill us with light, to help us to see with His eyes and joyfully love with his heart, for the glory of God and the salvation of souls.

3rd Sunday of Lent 2026 - Scrutinies and the Samaritan Woman

We celebrated today, with our Catechumens, the first of the three Scrutinies. The three scrutinies are celebrated on the third, fourth, and fifth Sundays of Lent with those who are preparing to enter the Church at Easter.  The three scrutinies are solemn rituals in which we pray to help to purify, enlighten and strengthen the catechumens as they prepare for the Easter Sacraments.

The word "scrutinize" means to examine in minute detail, and in the scrutinies, the Church prays that every-last minute detail of the lives of the Catechumens may be converted to Christ. The ritual book for the scrutitines says that their purpose is to "heal all that is weak, defective, or sinful in the hearts of the elect" and "to give them strength in Christ, who is the way, the truth, and the life".  And that’s something each of us need to seek, every day: to turn to the Lord to heal anything that is defective or sinful in our hearts.

Catechism says, “In order to reach perfection, the faithful should use the strength dealt out to them by Christ’s gift, so that . . . doing the will of the Father in everything, they may wholeheartedly devote themselves to the glory of God and to the service of their neighbor.” We are to utilize all of the strength at our disposal--the strength of our intellect and will, the gifts of the spirit—to root out sin so that we may live more fully for God.

We do this before Sacramental Confession of course. We thoroughly scrutinize our moral decisions since our last confession. But it’s a very good idea to get in the habit of doing this every day; before bed, make an examination of your day—your choices and decisions and conversations and interactions—scrutinize your day in the light of Christ. That daily scrutiny is a powerful spiritual help for growth in holiness.

“Blessed are the pure of heart, for they shall see God” promises Jesus. We seek to purify ourselves of sin, so that we may see God in this life and in the next. Sin obscures spiritual vision—it clouds the intellect. We will hear more about the curing of spiritual blindness next week—in the gospel of the healing of the blind man at the pool of siloam. Yet, this Sunday’s Gospel also had to do with spiritual vision in a sense, as the Samaritan woman came to spiritually see Jesus for who he really is—the one who can quench our thirst for living waters.

This is really a powerful Gospel. There are a couple important details right at the beginning of the story: “Jesus came to a town of Samaria.” Jesus enters this place, where no pious Jew would go. . Samaria was filled with half-breeds—Jews who had intermarried with the Assyrians invaders of centuries past.

First, insight: Jesus doesn’t go around the unclean land or the unclean person. Jesus loves the unclean, the marginalized, the outsider. In the Second Reading, we are reminded by St. Paul that Jesus loves the sinner so much, he lays down his life for them.

Secondly: this woman, goes to the well, at the hottest part of the day, by herself. She is likely ostracized by her own people. Perhaps it has something to do with the fact that she had five husbands and was living with a man to whom she was not married. She is surrounded with stigma, she’s living in sin. And it is precisely with her, that jesus converses and offers the gift of life-giving waters.

The Samaritan woman represents every one of us.  She is wounded, complicated, burdened by her past, and yet still sought out by Christ. Jesus waits for her at the well. And Jesus waits for us too. He is not afraid of the mess of her life, and He is not afraid of the mess in ours. He sees everything. He sees every sin, every compromise, every disappointment, every attempt we have made to find fulfillment apart from God—and still He speaks to us. Still He desires to give us living water.

This too makes the Samaritan woman’s faith is so striking—“Sir, give me this water”. She doesn’t quite yet understand who Jesus is completely. She doesn’t have a master’s degree in theology. But she recognizes that Jesus can do for her what no one else can. Her life may not be completely in order—but she gets this right. Recognizing Jesus as Savior, was life changing.

And then the next striking thing about this story: this encounter was so meaningful that she immediately becomes a missionary. This woman who had been avoiding others now runs to them. Once she encounters Christ, she can no longer keep Him to herself.

Here is a sign of authentic conversion. A real encounter with Jesus never remains private. It bears fruit. It changes how we speak, how we act, how we love, how we see others. When we ourselves have been healed, we are moved by love to desire that healing for others.

We know the suffering that comes from living apart from God, and so we desire to help others know Him. We know the emptiness the world has to offer, and so we desire to help others experience the fullness that comes from Him.

We do not want the people around us to remain thirsty, burdened, wounded, confused, or far from God. We want them to know the One we have come to know. We want them to encounter the mercy that has begun to heal us. That is what we see in the Samaritan woman. Once she begins to recognize who Jesus is, she leaves behind her water jar and goes her family and fellow townsfolk. She becomes, almost immediately, a witness. She does not yet understand everything about Jesus. Her faith is still new, still developing. But even so, she has found something—or rather Someone—too important to keep to herself.

And that is often how conversion works. A person who has really encountered Christ may not yet be able to explain every doctrine or answer every theological question, but we know this: I was thirsty, and He met me. I was burdened, and He spoke to me. I was wandering, and He began to lead me. I was hurting, and he comforted me. That’s evangelization.

Evangelization is not only the task of apologists, theologians, clergy, and catechists. Certainly, we have an important role in the Church. But at its heart, Christian witness is simple. I was wounded and empty, and he healed me. It is one beggar showing another where to find bread; one thirsty soul showing another where to find water.

This Lent, the Lord invites us to scrutinize our lives—to lay them bare that we may drink every-more-deeply of the life-giving waters, then sends us out to make that invitation to others—for the glory of God and salvation of souls.

 

6th Week in Ordinary Time 2025 - Wednesday - Gradual healing of spiritual wounds

 In yesterday’s Gospel passage, we heard how the apostles failed to understand Jesus’ identity. They seemed to suffer from real spiritual shortsightedness—their faith is lacking, their ability to trust him is lacking because of their unwillingness to see who is really is.

That account of the disciples’ spiritual blindness is immediately followed by the passage we read today—that of a miraculous healing of a blind man. It is as if St. Mark is saying that if you find yourself sympathizing with the disciples, unable to see Jesus for who he really is, Jesus is willing to heal you, he wants to heal you.

The healing of the blindman at Bethsaida is unique among the miracles recorded in the Gospels, because this healing is gradual. After laying his hands on the man the first time, the man only achieved a partial recovery. He couldn’t tell the difference between people and trees. It’s only after the second time that Jesus touches the man that his sight is restored.

The man’s gradual recovery symbolizes the slow and often difficult process in Mark’s Gospel of opening the disciples’ eyes to understanding Jesus’ identity and mission--like the gradual receding of the waters after the flood in our first reading.

Spiritual blindness is often overcome in stages. Faith is gained gradually. A person who has wandered in darkness their whole life often can’t withstand a full blast of divine light. A person lost in the labyrinth of atheism or religious apathy might only come to Christ gradually, through gradual doses of Gospel truth. For this reason, we must be very patient with unbelievers—because they may be in a very fragile stage of that gradual healing of their spiritual vision.  

All too often Christians give up on evangelizing because we don’t see immediate results. But what does today’s Gospel teach us. Not even Jesus always got immediate results. Healing often takes time. Seeing the seed of truth flourish into a tree of faith takes many waterings and lots of prayer. St. Paul acknowledges that true sight may only be recovered in eternity. “At present we see indistinctly, as in a mirror, but then face to face. At present I know partially; then I shall know fully, as I am fully known.”

So too with our own sins. Some sins are only overcome through multiple encounters with God’s mercy—where we allow the light of God to penetrate more and more deeply into our souls, our psyches, our wounds, our hardness of heart.

Patience is needed in the spiritual life for ourselves and for others. But as our sight is gradually restored, we see Christ more clearly, we begin to see ourselves and our neighbor more clearly, how God sees us, for the glory of God and the salvation of souls.

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Trusting in the Lord who gradually opens and heals our hearts, let us offer our prayers for ourselves and for the world.

For the Church: That all believers may grow in the knowledge of Christ each day, overcoming spiritual blindness through persistent prayer, study of the Gospel, and acts of charity.

For all who struggle to recognize Jesus as Lord: That they may receive the gentle guidance of the Holy Spirit, and that our patient witness will help their faith grow in God’s time.

For those who evangelize or serve as missionaries: That they may remain steadfast when results seem slow, or when they endure suffering in Jesus’ name.

For the sick, the lonely, and those in need: that they may be open to the healing and strength that comes from a relationship of deep faith in God. And we pray in a special way for our Holy Father, Pope Francis, in this time of serious illness.

For our deceased loved ones: That they may behold the Lord fully in the eternal light of heaven, seeing Him face to face and rejoicing in His presence.

Presider: Heavenly Father, you heal our blindness and open our eyes to your truth, often in gradual and gentle ways. Hear these prayers we bring before you and grant us the patience and perseverance we need to deepen our faith in you. We ask this through Christ our Lord. Amen.

 

December 2021 - First Friday Holy Hour - The Eucharist and the healing of spiritual blindness

 Then he touched their eyes and said, “Let it be done for you according to your faith.”

In today’s Gospel, the Lord heals two blind men.  The healing of physical blindness in this instance comes when faith is placed in Jesus as the Son of God. This points to the spiritual healing that comes through the Christian faith. The Lord restores our senses and opens the eyes of our soul when we place our faith in him. 

In Eucharistic Adoration, we have the wonderful opportunity to kneel in faith before the same Lord and Divine Physician who healed the blind men in the Gospel. And just like it was for those blind men, this act of faith can be a conduit of healing for ourselves and our loved ones. 

The blind men in the Gospel could not see the Lord, but cried out “Have pity on us.”  They recognized their blindness, they recognized their need for healing, and they recognized that they cannot heal themselves.

Recognizing our blindnesses, those times when we have looked to gods other than Christ to save us, let us call upon the Lord, “have pity on us…come close to us and heal us that we may be restored that we may be healed, that our fracture hearts and fractured lives may be made whole.”

Listen to these words offered by St. Alphonus Ligouri about the healing of spiritual blindness. He writes as if kneeling in front of the Lord, gazing upon and adoring his goodness, just as we are doing tonight.

“My dear Redeemer, how I have been so blind as to abandon you—who are infinite goodness, and the fountain of all consolation—for the miserable and momentary gratifications of the senses? I am astonished at my blindness, but I am still more astonished at your mercy, which has so bountifully borne with me. I thank you for making me aware now of my folly, and of my obligation to love you. I love you, O my Jesus, with my whole soul, but I desire to love you with greater fervor. Increase my desire and my love. Enamor my soul of you, who are infinitely loveable; of you, who have left nothing undone to gain my love; of you, who so ardently desire my love. “If you will it, you can make me clean.”

Ah, my dear Redeemer, purify my heart from all impure affections, which hinder me from loving you as I would wish! It is not in my power to inflame my whole heart with the love of you, and to make it love nothing but you. This requires the power of your grace, which can do all things. Detach me from every creature, banish from my soul every affection which is not for you, make me all yours…I resolve to consecrate all the days of my life to your holy love; but it is only your grace that can make me fulfill this resolution. Grant me, O Lord, this grace for the sake of the Blood which you shed for me with so much pain and so much love. Let it be the glory of your power to make my heart, which was once full of earthly affections, now become all flames of love for you, O infinite Good. O Mother of Fair Love, O Mary, by your prayers, make my whole soul burn, as yours did, with the charity of God.”

This evening, in the silence of adoration, ask the Lord to come close to you to heal any spiritual blindness that afflicts you. Ask the Lord to have pity on you and your family and this parish. Ask him to bring his healing to the blindnesses of those in our neighborhood, especially those blind to his love the salvation offered through him, for the glory of God and salvation of souls.

9th Week in Ordinary Time 2021 - Friday - The healing of Tobit's Blindness

 Last week our first readings came from the Book of Sirach; this week they’ve been from the Book of Tobit. But because of all the wonderful feast days of the saints, we haven’t really been reading from Tobit. 

So firstly, who is Tobit anyway? Tobit describes himself in the first chapter of his book as a Jew from northern Israel taken to Nineveh in slavery by the Assyrians. He was a very successful businessman, he was faithful to all his religious duties and generous to the poor, married to a beautiful and pious wife.

One day, through a strange act of providence, he went blind—bird droppings fell into his eyes and blinded him and he developed cataracts. For 4 years, he goes to doctors, and his blindness only gets worse. His life becomes unraveled. His marriage becomes rocky. Tobit becomes so despondent that he wants to die. He reminds us a lot of Job. He seems cursed. His faith was certainly being tested.

And yet, through their sufferings, both Tobit and Job come to a deeper understanding of God. In many of the speeches of Tobit and Job, why find them crying out to God, “Why me?” What did I do wrong to deserve this suffering? I diligently obeyed God’s rules, why is this happening to me? Both Tobit and Job seemed to be operating under this very prevalent idea, that If I obey all God’s rules, He will bless me with earthly prosperity. 

But, both Job and Tobit come to discover that God is worthy of worship and adoration and love not just when things are going well in our lives, but also when things aren’t going well. 

This realization, this deepening of faith in Tobit and Job, is a foreshadowing of the Lord’s teaching in the Gospels on the cross. Jesus promises his disciples a share in the cross. Each of us will bear a cross, many crosses in life—temptations and sufferings and setbacks and losses and bodily ills. 

The Christian disciples is called to a much more radical faith, than of those who only praise God when things go well, or who only worship God in hopes of earthly prosperity. We are to be bearers of the cross, who trust in God’s providence, who worship God even when we are sharing deeply in the sufferings of Christ. 

When he finally comes to trust in God’s providence, Tobit receives a healing from God. His son returns with medicine—his cataracts are able to be removed—reminding us of the scales that fall from the eyes of St. Paul—when he comes to faith in Christ Jesus. 

Deeper faith, deeper trust brought spiritual healing for Tobit, the healing of spiritual blindness. This story helps us to yearn for a healing of all of our spiritual blindnesses which keep us from trusting in God and embracing God’s will for our lives. May we come to see God’s goodness and God’s majesty in the crosses of our lives, for the glory of God and salvation of souls.

 

That all members of the Church will discover and offer their gifts wholeheartedly in service of the Gospel. 

For our young people beginning summer vacation, that they may be kept close to the truth and heart of Jesus, that young people may live in faith-filled homes where the Gospel is cherished, studied, and lived-out.

For all of the sick and suffering, for the grace to unite their sufferings with Christ and to know His consolation and peace.

For our departed loved ones and all of the souls in purgatory, and for N. for whom this Mass is offered. We pray to the Lord.

Incline your merciful ear to our prayers, we ask, O Lord, and listen in kindness to the supplications of those who call on you. Through Christ our Lord

1st Week of Advent 2020 - Friday - Out of the gloom and darkness, the blind will see

 

During the Advent Season daylight is seen less and less, the darkness comes earlier. Remember back in summer—the long wonderful days of summer, sunlight until 9pm?

As the physical world gets darker and darker as we near Christmas, the theme of light emits from our scripture readings, we hear about God’s promises of light. “Out of the gloom and darkness, the eyes of the blind will see” Isaiah promises from our first reading. Isaiah accurately describes the spiritual situation of Ancient Israel—exiled, captive, the presence of God hidden from them. Isaiah also describes the spiritual state of mankind—exiled from God, captive by sin, the presence of God hidden by our earthly suffering, our incredulity, and our self-centeredness. 

Without God humanity walks in blindness. 

To not have the light of God in one’s life is far worse than being physically blind.  In every dimension of society men and women going through life, raising their families, as if God did not exist.  They do not know his promises, they do not recognize his presence, they do not walk in his truth. 

Spiritual blindness is truly an epidemic—its symptoms are the erosion of the moral fabric of families and cultures, the corruption of children, the neglect of the poor among us.

It is no coincidence that in the Gospels, one of Jesus’ most oft repeated miracles was the healing of the blind.  For his mission is to bring spiritual sight and light, he is the fulfillment of Isaiah’s promises. 

The blind men in the Gospel cry out to Jesus, “Son of David, have pity on us”. They recognize Jesus as heir to the throne of David, they recognized him as the Messiah, they recognized their blindness and their need for healing, and that they cannot heal themselves. 

The blind men are in a sort, good examples of Advent faith for all of us. We consider the identity of Our Lord as Son of David, and how he and only he can heal us, and save us.

We cry out with them, “have pity on us.”  Bring us light, bring us healing, “come, that we may see you”. Give us the purity of heart that allows us to see you. Give us the faith that helps us detect you in the chaos and suffering of the world. Scatter the gloom and darkness of our lives, that we may bear the light of Christ to all we meet, for the glory of God and salvation of souls.

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We raise up our prayers of petitions, as we await with longing the Advent of Christ the Lord.

That through the courageous witness of the Christian Church, the Lord will restore spiritual sight to the inwardly blind, that we may be attentive to the will of God and the needs of the poor.

That world leaders may look upon the Son of God, believe in him, and seek the peace and justice that only he can bring.

That Christ may heal every disease, drive out hunger, ward off every affliction, and bring peace to the suffering.

For the deceased of our parish, family and friends, and for all the poor souls in purgatory, and for X. for whom this Mass is offered.

Almighty ever-living God, you bring salvation to all and desire that no one should perish, hear the prayers of your people and grant that the course of our world may be directed by your peaceful rule and your Church may rejoice in tranquility and devotion. Through Christ our Lord.

December 2019 - First Friday Holy Hour - Light in our Darkness

During the Advent Season daylight is seen less and less, the darkness comes earlier, the weather grows colder.  Remember back in summer—the long wonderful days of summer, sunlight until 9pm?

As we near Christmas, the days get darker and darker, and in response so many of our Advent prayers and liturgies call to mind the promises of God’s light.  We watch for “the dawn from on high to break upon us”, we watch for the coming of the Lord, the coming of the Messiah. Isaiah prophecies that the coming of the messiah will bring so much light that “out of the gloom and darkness, the eyes of the blind will see”.

One of the recurring themes in the Gospel is Jesus bringing light to the eyes of the blind.

What beautiful words, we hear in the Gospel today, “He touched their eyes…and their eyes were opened.” What a wonderful thing to ponder, as we kneel before the Lord in the Holy Eucharist this evening.

We wouldn’t be here tonight if the Lord had not already touched the eyes of our soul bestowing the gift of faith. As St. Thomas rightly puts it: what our physical senses fail to detect, faith rightly perceives. We perceive through faith that the Lord is truly present. We see rightly with our souls that he is here. Blessing us with his presence.

And he sees us. As he looks out upon the Church from the thousands of altars around the world, he sees souls coming to him to be healed, souls looking to him for guidance and strength, souls looking to him to be their light in the darkness and chaos of this fallen world.

Lord heal our blindnesses, Lord scatter our gloom and darknesses, Lord clarify our confused paths. Surround us, protect us, and enfold us in your light.

Through our Advent prayer, may the have pity on us, and touch the eyes of our hearts, deepen our faith, and strengthen us in his service for the glory of God and salvation of souls.

6th Week in OT 2019 - Wednesday - Gradual Healing of Spiritual Blindness

Yesterday, we heard how the apostles failed to understand Jesus’ identity. They feared because they forgot to take bread with them, not understanding, blind to the fact that the One who feeds—the living bread Himself—was with them. The account of the apostle’s spiritual blindness is followed by this morning’s passage of a miraculous healing.

And, this healing miracle i is unique among the miracles recorded in the Gospels as the only healing that takes place in two stages. After laying his hands on the man the first time, the man only achieve partial recovery. He couldn’t tell the difference between people and trees. It’s only after the second time that Jesus touches the man that his sight is restored.

The man’s gradual recovery symbolizes the slow and difficult process in Mark’s Gospel of opening the disciples’ eyes to understanding Jesus’ identity and mission. This blind man at first couldn’t tell the difference between peoples and trees. Well, it will not be until they see Jesus on a tree, on a cross, that the disciples will fully understand who he is: the faithful Son who undergoes suffering and death to save us from our sins.

Spiritual blindness is often overcome in stages. It often takes multiple encounters with God’s mercy, maybe even a lifetime, to overcome a particular sin. Perhaps that’s because seeing the real identity of a person is often accomplished in stages.  First, we see someone’s outward appearance, the color of their hair, the shape of their face.  But it usually takes time to see them at a deeper level—time spent in their presence, time in conversations, time working along-side of them—we come to know each other gradually.  Saint Paul even tell us this in I Corinthians: “At present we see indistinctly, as in a mirror, but then face to face. At present I know partially; then I shall know fully, as I am fully known.”

Our true sight is not regained by staring at a television or computer screen for several hours a day.  Spiritual sight is regained, like in the Gospel today, by the encounter with Christ himself.  This occurs predominately in prayer—the Sacraments and in daily meditation and in serving Christ in the poor.
And as our sight is gradually restored, we see Christ more clearly and begin to see ourselves more clearly, how God sees us. May we be open to the encounters with Christ God wants for us today: in prayer and service for the glory of God and salvation of souls.
 
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That the bishops of the Church will act as true prophets through their faithful teaching, their courageous witness, and their self-sacrificing love. We pray to the Lord.
That government leaders around the world may carry out their duties with justice, honesty, and respect for freedom and the dignity of human life.  We pray to the Lord.
For the lifting of the veil from our eyes and hearts to be more attentive to the needs of the poor in our midst. We pray to the Lord.
For all those who share in the sufferings of Christ—the sick, the sorrowful, and those who are afflicted or burdened in any way.  We pray to the Lord.
For the deceased members of our families, friends, and parish, for the deceased clergy and religious of the diocese of Cleveland, for the poor souls in purgatory, and for those who have fought and died for our freedom. We pray to the Lord.
O God, who know that our life in this present age is subject to suffering and need, hear the prayers of those who cry to you and receive the prayers of those who believe in you. Through Christ our Lord.

6th Week in OT 2018 - Tuesday - Works in progress

Yesterday’s Gospel concluded with Jesus letting out a deep sigh and lamenting over the Pharisees demands for signs and wonders, and even when he produced them, like when he fed the five thousand, they were still unconvinced of his identity.

Today’s Gospel picks up immediately with the disciples also not quite getting it. They had been with Jesus now for some time, they had seen miraculous healings and feedings, and Jesus still detected some blindness, some doubt in them.

Now notice how Jesus hasn’t given up on the disciples. The mere fact that they were still with him, showed their openness to his teaching. They were “unfinished products” and that’s okay. And the fact that Jesus is still teaching them shows his commitment to helping them become free from their inner resistances.

So, too, with us. None of us are “finished products”, we are all “works in progress”; we come to the altar with some blindness, some lack of trust in God, some selfishness. And that we are here is such a good sign of our willingness to be healed, to be taught, to be led by God. God sees the tremendous potential each one of us has, and he provides the teaching and the spiritual nourishment and the boundless mercy, that we can become the people he made us to be.

Here is also a reminder to be extremely patient with each other. When I humbly acknowledge that I’m not the person I’m meant to be, I’m able to be much more patient with my brother, who also speaks and acts out of ignorance, at times. If a brother needs to be rebuked or corrected, we do so very gently, very patiently, to help them grow.

Many look at the Catholic Church with great criticism. They say, “look at all the corruption, look at all the moral failures of her members, the mediocre preaching.”  But still, millions of people join the Catholic Church despite the faults of individual members who fail to live up to what they profess.
Good, thoughtful people join the Church every year because they acknowledge that it is HERE that we find the truth we need to live in right relationship with God. Good, thoughtful people join the Church because they recognize that the only fair way to judge any institution is according to its principles and the example of those who DO live in accord with them.

Jesus saves through His Church! And His Church does produce Saints. Where else than the Church do we find women like Catherine of Siena, Teresa of Avila, Therese of Lisieux, and Elizabeth Ann Seton, or men to compare with Augustine, Thomas Aquinas, St. Ignatius of Loyola, Francis, John of the Cross, Thomas More, John Vianney.  No where but here!

Today, may we be open to the ways the Lord wishes to cure us from our spiritual blindness, teach us in our ignorance, feed us in our hunger, and lead us in the ways of sanctity for the glory of God and salvation of souls.

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For the Holy Father’s prayer intention for the month of February, that those who have material, political or spiritual power may resist any lure of corruption.

For those preparing for baptism and entrance into full communion with the Catholic Church this Easter, for their continual conversion to Christ and that of the whole Church.

For all the needs of the sick and the suffering, the homebound, those in nursing homes and hospitals, the underemployed and unemployed, immigrants and refugees, victims of natural disaster, war, and terrorism, for all those who grieve the loss of a loved one, and those who will die today, for their comfort, and the consolation of their families.

For all who have died, and for all the poor souls in purgatory, and for X. for whom this Mass is offered.

Incline your merciful ear to our prayers, we ask, O Lord, and listen in kindness to the supplications of those who call on you. Through Christ our Lord

Monday - 33rd Week in OT 2017 - Jesus, Son of David, have pity on me!

Seventeen verses in the New Testament describe Jesus as the “son of David.” But, how could Jesus be the son of David if David lived approximately 1,000 years before Jesus?

The answer is that Jesus fulfilled the prophecy of the seed of David. Listen to this prophecy from 2 Samuel: “I will raise up your offspring after you, who shall come from your body, and I will establish his kingdom. He shall build a house for my name, and I will establish the throne of his kingdom forever.”

So, the title “Son of David” is more than a statement of physical genealogy. It is a Messianic title. When people referred to Jesus as the Son of David, they meant that He was the long-awaited Deliverer, through whom God would establish his eternal kingdom.

Often, when Jesus is called by this title, it is by people seeking mercy or healing. The woman whose daughter was being tormented by a demon cries out: “Have mercy on me, O Lord, Son of David”, and today, we heard of the blind man, begging by the wayside. Calling Him “Lord” expressed their sense of His deity, dominion, and power, and calling Him “Son of David,” expressed their faith that He was the Messiah.

The Pharisees understood exactly what the people meant when they called Jesus “Son of David.” But, unlike those who cried out in faith, the Pharisees were so blinded by their own pride that they couldn’t see what the blind beggars could see.

Jesus came to open the eyes of the blind. He asks us: "What do you want Me to do for you?" We should respond: "I want to see".

Notice also how upon receiving his healing, the blind man follows Jesus and glorifies him. In our Psalm we replied, “Give me life, O Lord, and I will do your commands.” The sight, the healing, the mercy we receive from Jesus, is good in itself, but mercy is given in order to transform us into agents of mercy, healing is given to make us into instruments of healing.

We come to the altar today, thanking God for the mercy and the healing we have received, and beseeching him all the more to continue to transform us, to make us his instruments, that we may follow him all the more faithfully, for the glory of God and salvation of souls.

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That the spiritually blind of our world, may gaze upon Jesus, Son of God and Son of David, and believe.

That our president and all civil servants will carry out their duties with justice, honesty, and respect for the dignity of every human life.  We pray to the Lord.

For all those struggling with addiction, mental illness, chronic sickness, unemployment, or ongoing trials of any kind, for those who grieve the loss of a loved one, or for those who will die today: that they will be fortified and blessed with God’s special favor and consolation. 

For the deceased members of our families, friends, and parish, and all the poor souls in purgatory, for deceased clergy and religious, and for those who have fought and died for our freedom.

O God, you know that our life in this present age is subject to suffering and need, hear the prayers of those who cry to you and receive the prayers of those who believe in you. Through Christ our Lord.