Homily for the 30th Sunday of Ordinary Time: Seeing The Way For What It Is

30th Sunday of Ordinary Time, B                                                                  October 24, 2021
Fr. Albert                                                                                St. John the Evangelist, Jeanerette

“What do you want me to do for you?” Like you don’t know, Jesus? The man is a blind beggar, why make him ask for what we all know he wants? Because that’s how prayer works. That’s how faith works. Prayer is not conveying information to God, it is expressing desire. It is fostering desire. It stirs up faith and prepares the heart to receive. A desire honestly expressed changes us, not God.

The answer is not always what we expect. There is no indication that Bartimaeus was planning to follow Jesus as a disciple. He wanted to see; Once he could see, he realized what he truly desired was not physical vision, but the vision of God in Jesus Christ. Jesus tells him, “go your way,” only for the Gospel to immediately tell us that Bartimaeus then follows Jesus on the way. “The Way” is not a Star Wars reference, it is what Christianity was called before it was called Christianity. Bartimaeus’ own way, his heart’s desire is transformed by this encounter so that his internal, subjective sense lines up with the objective reality of following Christ. It began with a prayer, an honest expression of desire to Jesus. Not just expressing it, but expressing it with faith, calling him “Master.”

But what about when we ask and do not receive? How many people are not healed? How many questions seem to go unanswered? This, too, is about drawing us into an authentic encounter with Jesus Christ. The Gospel tells us that Jesus was being followed by a “sizable crowd” as he’s leaving Jericho. How many in that crowd recognize Jesus as the “son of David?” None but the blind beggar. When the beggar called out for help, how many in the crowd responded the way Jesus taught them to? They actually tried to block him from Jesus.

It was because of his blindness that Bartimaeus was able to see. He knew his weakness, his need, so he reached out for help without any fear of looking like a failure or a loser. It was because of his destitution that he was able to persevere. Wholeheartedly calling out for Jesus caused him to be rebuked by the world around him. Yet, he had nothing to lose in this world, so he was not afraid to endure it, to accept ridicule and rejection in order to reach Jesus. And reach Jesus he did.

In our relationship to Christ, we will often be reminded of our weakness and dependence. God often does not answer our prayers in the way we would like. His will is mysterious, but we do know that God saying “no,” that his apparent silence is often a chance for us to learn humility. When prayer is the expression of a desire, his refusal to answer is often a chance for our desires to grow deeper, clearer, more accurate.

Longsuffering in prayer often reveals to us that we don’t really want what we asked for as badly as we thought… or perhaps it raises that desire to the point where we realize just how many other things we don’t want, other things that get in the way. If we’re too focused on worldly things, we are often blind to the fact that those things don’t actually make us happy. I want the lottery or this new job, but I may not realize that my obsession with what co-workers think of me is doing far more to make me miserable than a lack of money. Often enough, the answer to prayer is not a divine intervention, but the resolve to cut away what is keeping us from our truest desire – the desire to see God. In those moments, we strive to come to the place where, like Bartimaeus, we are blind to the glamor of the world and deaf to the rebuke of mere human beings so that we can truly encounter Jesus Christ, ask him for what we need, and then be enabled to see how to make the way our way.

But following Christ means obeying Him, and we don’t like to lose our freedom. In just a few minutes of internet searching, you can find thousands of people ridiculing people of faith and religion for their rigidity, their fear of asking questions, or their irrational behaviors. They mockingly ask questions about God, but without really listening back.

That is not a search for truth. We can and should respect atheists of people of other faiths who genuinely search for truth. We should offer to help them in that search, not by force or fear, but by genuine witness and through thoughtful answers. Often enough, however, our own faith is not mature, not able to help these others because we are afraid of real questions. Or because we hide behind easy answers and memorized formulas. As with Bartimaeus, when a question is asked, a favor sought from the Lord, the real answer is more than it seems.

Idle curiosity is not enough. The “sizable” crowd is curious, but Bartimaeus actually wants to encounter him, to learn from him – that’s why he calls him “rabouni,” an Aramaic word meaning “my teacher” – it emphasizes the personal relationship of disciple to teacher. The journey from doubt to faith, from weak faith to strong faith is filled not with simple answers, but from learning to ask better questions. It comes from a willingness to endure boredom and uncertainty long enough that we experience genuine wonder and deep reflection at mysteries that go beyond worldly categories and human cleverness.

That is uncomfortable. It is difficult. It can sometimes be boring. Why ponder the meaning of my boredom when I can simply distract myself from it with screentime or chemicals? Why learn to live with those holy rollers… to live like them when I can simply dismiss them as weirdos and social outcasts and go back to making money and living for myself? Why stop to consider what I truly want when it is so easy to satisfy every urge so quickly and easily?

It’s easy to say, “you go your way and I’ll go mine.” When we think about following someone else’s way, it can be upsetting. I don’t want to be a slave, to be controlled by someone else. I want my freedom. Indeed, you should want it. But what is your freedom for? Why have it if it goes nowhere and means nothing in the end? This is the heart of the Gospel: obedience is not a rejection of your freedom, it does not simply ignore your own way. Rather, true obedience is the transformation of desire, it is the realization that your way, the way of life that is most free and most authentically yours is actually the way… the way of Christ, the way of the cross, the way of resurrection. Don’t see that? Then ask him… tell him “my teacher, I want to see,” then act like you mean it.