Before self-identifying as “Catholic,” it would be good for all of us to consider carefully what we’re professing ourselves to be, in only toto avoid being identified as a religious “hypocrite.”
Today’s gospel offers three “types” of “Christmas crib Catholics,” using the people in the crowd of Jesus disciples who were following him on his final journey from Jericho to Jerusalem where he would be crucified, die, and be buried.
Along the way a man who was born blind—Bartimaeus (which is translated “Son of the honored one,” perhaps his father was a judge or revered teacher of the Law)—is seated on the side of the road—the “Way” of following Jesus and living as an authentic disciple. We’ve heard this story so many times we may fail to consider from whence it originates.
The man born blind was an individual who, from the very beginning of his days, doesn’t know first-hand the physical beauty of God’s creation and His creatures. This person has lived each day without the ability or the knowledge to put a face to the people who enter into and pass through one’s days. This also is a person who has lived without ever seeing a rainbow in the sky, the beautiful colors of the trees in the spring, the golden fields in the summer, the majestic colors of the leaves on a sunny fall day, the grandeur of the mountains, a pristine snowfall on an early winter morning, or the immense power of a hurricane or tornado. Tragic as all that is, even more tragic is the fact that the man born blind is incapable of experiencing the abiding joy of looking with love into the eyes of dear ones, like a spouse, child, grandchild, or friends.
To be born blind is to have eyes that do not see and having to rely upon what one’s ears and touch allow this person to perceive. Imagine being forced to walk through your house, neighborhood, and across the street with a stick in your hands, always wondering where the obstacles are and what those obstacles may be. Also imagine that being born blind means you will spend each day eking out an existence begging just to survive, entirely dependent upon the charity of others.
The physical disability should move our hearts with pity, as Jesus’ heart was moved by pity for sinners.
Yet, as tragic as that is—and it is truly tragic, that’s not the point of today’s gospel.
For Jesus’ disciples, there’s a far greater blindness: Not to see Jesus.
As bad as physical blindness is and as limiting as it can be when it comes to “living life to the full,” moral and spiritual blindness is far worse. This person who is truly blind never seeing the “Light of Light, true God of true God, begotten not made, consubstantial with the Father,” as the Nicene Creed teaches.
Never seeing this Light, how is it possible to walk the “Way” throughout life and judge the truth about everything transpiring each and every day?
Even if this person self-identifies as Catholic, moral and spiritual blindness means this individual has little if any faith. And, similar to someone who is physically blind, this person is incapable of seeing and knowing Jesus who is the only Truth that enlightens the world. This person incapable of appreciating what gives meaning to every event in life—not just those that generate happiness but also those that beget sadness—and room for the mind to contemplate and question those events from God’s perspective.
That’s how most “Christmas crib Catholics” spend their days. For them, Jesus is a nice idea not a real human being, an image of on a holy card not an encounter of a human being. A mythical figure of the imagination, most “Christmas crib Catholics” turn to Jesus when life is challenging and difficult. Other than that, Jesus isn’t worthy of much thought except perhaps on Christmas or Easter Sunday. And, most importantly, following Jesus must make this person feel really, really good and require absolutely zero suffering.
In short, “crib Catholics” love themselves and make Jesus fit what they believe is true, not the other way around.
Bartimaeus—the man born blind who was sitting on the roadside and begging from Jesus’ disciples just to eke out an existence when Jesus was passing by—may have become a disciple at the last minute of Jesus’ public ministry. Crying out to Jesus for healing from his moral and spiritual misery, all this background makes it possible to consider the people in the Jesus’ entourage who, like us who self-identify as Catholic, self-identified themselves as Jesus’ disciples.
Some of those following Jesus walked right past Bartimaeus: They were indifferent to the blind man because they were intent on so many other things. These disciples avoid the problems of other people. Thus, they don’t hear, recognize, acknowledge those folks on the “Way.” Instead, these disciples walk right past these folks, their hearts unmoved if not closed to the cries of those around them.
Pope Francis calls this way of being a disciple a “spirituality of zapping.” These Catholics are always on the move but have do little if anything that demonstrates the faith they profess with their lips. While they keep up with all the latest news, gossip, best sellers, movies, fashions, sports, and the lives of the rich and famous, they never connect with others by encountering them: Striking up a personal relationship, getting involved, and doing something to help alleviate their misery.
This kind of “crib Catholic” doesn’t hear the pain or sink roots into the lives other others. “It’s like listening to the word of God without letting it take root and bear fruit in our hearts. Like a tree, a life without roots is a one which withers and dies,” the Pope observes. “The way we listen to God the Father is how we should listen to his faithful people,” Pope Francis teaches.
Others of those who were following Jesus told Bartimaeus to be quiet: They didn’t want to be bothered but instead left alone to pursue their self-interests. While they hear, acknowledge, make contact with, and recognize the person’s presence, they react by scolding this individual and, if the pestering and petulance continues, they hurl reproaches like “Leave me alone!” at this individual.
Pope Francis says this situation reveals what he calls the “drama of the isolated consciousness.” This is the result of thinking that Jesus is the possession only of those who are deserving, better and, thus, more “worthy” than others. These “crib Catholics” differentiate themselves from others by thinking, “I’m not like that person or like those people.” They’re unwilling to wipe others’ tears or to laugh and rejoice with them because their hearts are closed. Instead, they focus upon the moral and spiritual failures of others, not their spiritual and moral failures, to justify separating themselves from the others little by little, turning their Catholic identity into a badge of superiority. While they have ears to hear the cries of those around them, they don’t listen to them.
Lastly, some of those following Jesus told Bartimaeus to take heart and get up: This wasn’t a direct response to Bartimaeus’ cry but reflected how Jesus responded to his pleas. For these disciples, Bartimaeus’ cry was an invitation—a new and different “Way”—to respond to others’ needs for the only reason that, like themselves, they also God’s children.
That response is good! But, it’s not good enough to be an authentic disciple.
Jesus pressed further than this third group of disciples, stopping stopped when Bartimaeus cried out, asking him what was happening, and inserting himself directly in the life of someone he didn’t even know. “What do you want me to do for you?”, Jesus asked. Notice Jesus didn’t decide whether he had the time or not or whether Bartimaeus was worthy or not. Instead, Jesus heard and listened to his cry, and then looked at him—seeing him as a child of God—and immediately entered into Bartimaeus’ life and shared in his lot, immediately restoring Bartimaeus’ dignity and witnessing to the transformative power of love of God and neighbor.
The lesson for Jesus’ disciples?
Encounter other people by stopping, listening, and entering into their lives. Don’t “zap” or silence them. Don’t be afraid to draw near to their pain. More oftentimes than not, just stand alongside them and pray with them, as Jesus did.
This is authentic discipleship in imitation of Jesus: Adopting the “logic of divine love” and learning to think, feel, and act in the freedom that’s born of love by desiring to promote the moral and spiritual good of others.
This is the motivation of those who strive to be “Good Friday crucifix Catholics.” Aware of the presence of the Holy Spirit within and what the Holy Spirit wishes to accomplish in, with, and through them, “crucifix Catholics” know what the Catechism of the Catholic Church teaches about the logic of divine love. But, they actually strive to live and witness to it each and every day by stopping, drawing near, asking “What can I do for you?” They then say “Take heart; get up,” enabling others to see the Light of Light and true God of true God, begotten not made, consubstantial with the Father.
It’s the “Way” of life that’s based not upon a this-worldly social, political, cultural, or theological ideology or by reiterating a memorized catechetical formula, but one of always striving to witness to the logic of divine love encountering and being with others in their confusion, pain, and sadness. In the words of the author of the Letter to the Hebrews which we heard in today’s epistle:
[This person] is able to deal patiently with the ignorant and erring, for [this person] is beset by weakness and so, for this reason, must make sin offerings for [oneself] as well as for the people. No one takes this honor upon himself but when called by God.
The logic of divine love enables God to assist us to become more like His only begotten Son when God calls to us through the cries of those who are in need. The desire isn’t to be better than others, special, or to feel specially blessed by God. No, the desire is borne entirely of gratitude for those who encountered us and witnessed to the logic of divine love when we were undeserving and needed someone to draw near, ask “What can I do for you?” and then said to us “Take heart, get up.” They revealed to us the Light of Light, true God of true God, begotten not made, and consubstantial with the Father made flesh by stopping, listening, and offering God’s love to us, just as the logic of divine love dictates.
That represents this week’s challenge from scripture: To put the logic of divine love into action.
How? By understanding that putting the logic of divine love into action is the product of being healed of our moral and spiritual deafness.
To this end: Begin each day with a short but sincere prayer asking God to cure your moral and spiritual deafness—“Lord, help me to hear the cry of the poor today”— because without being able to hear those Bartimaeuses cry out, none of us will stop, listen, and ask “What can I do for you?” We’ll just proceed along our merry way like the first group of those disciples in today’s gospel.
Becoming aware of the cry will go a long way to remind us to stop, listen, and act each day this week when those Bartimaeuses cry out…and, let me assure you, there will be many who do. This is what the second group did but then told the man born blind to be quiet. Then, as we witness to the logic of divine love by putting our plans on hold to serve others in their need, we will demonstrate that we don’t merely self-identify as Catholic but are striving to an authentic “crucifix Catholic.”
This exercise doesn’t guarantee freedom moral and spiritual deafness any time this week or any time soon. But it does guarantee that over time, both you and I will grow as “crucifix Catholics” by hearing the cries of the poor who will say with the Psalmist,
The Lord has done great things for us; we are filled with joy.
Those won’t be mere words found in a book on the shelf but represent a lived experience.
Then recall, as Jeremiah prophesied, this is how “the Lord delivers, consoles, and heals his people.”
Also recall what the Psalmist added:
It seemed like a dream, but their mouths will be filled with laughter and their tongues with rejoicing.
I can guarantee one thing will result from this practice when it becomes a daily discipline along the “Way”: It will go a long way to avoid having one day to self-identify as a religious “hypocrite.”
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