Lectio Divina

The Healing of the Blind of Jericho, Nicolas Poussin (1650, Louvre Museum, Paris

30th sunday in ordinary time

On this thirtieth Sunday in Ordinary Time, we hear in Mark’s Gospel account, the blind Bartimaeus was sitting at the Jericho city gates when Jesus passed through. He called out to him a number of times: ‘Have mercy upon me.’ Jesus asks him what he wanted. The faithful Bartimaeus wanted to see. His faith has saved him.

For more please enjoy below.

Peace be with you!

In Catholicism, Lectio Divina (from the Latin for Holy Reading) is a traditional monastic practice of scriptural reading, meditation, and prayer intended to promote communion with God and to increase the knowledge of God's word.  For the practitioner, it follows a common rhythm of quiet reading (often aloud to oneself), of thoughtful meditation and contemplation on what one has read, and then, if so moved, of a prayerful dialogue with God in response to what one has encountered in scripture.  This reflective, meditative, active listening, if you will, allows the Holy Spirit to deepen one's awareness of God's presence and invites His initiative to speak with us.

gospel

LISTEN: Master, I want to see.

A reading from the Gospel according to Mark 10:46-52

As Jesus was leaving Jericho with his disciples and a sizable crowd,
Bartimaeus, a blind man, the son of Timaeus,
sat by the roadside begging.
On hearing that it was Jesus of Nazareth,
he began to cry out and say,
“Jesus, son of David, have pity on me.”
And many rebuked him, telling him to be silent.
But he kept calling out all the more,
“Son of David, have pity on me.”
Jesus stopped and said, “Call him.”
So they called the blind man, saying to him,
“Take courage; get up, Jesus is calling you.”
He threw aside his cloak, sprang up, and came to Jesus.
Jesus said to him in reply, “What do you want me to do for you?”
The blind man replied to him, “Master, I want to see.”
Jesus told him, “Go your way; your faith has saved you.”
Immediately he received his sight
and followed him on the way.

The Gospel of the Lord.

REFLECTION

CONSIDER:

Being Bartimeaus

From a homily by Saint Josemaría Escrivá

Don’t you too feel the same urge to cry out? You who also are waiting at the side of the way, of this highway of life that is so very short? You who need more light, you who need more grace to make up your mind to seek holiness? Don’t you feel an urgent need to cry out, Jesus, son of David, have pity on me? What a beautiful aspiration for you to repeat again and again! I recommend that you meditate slowly on the events preceding the miracle, to help you keep this fundamental idea clearly engraved upon your minds: what a world of difference there is between the merciful Heart of Jesus and our own poor hearts! This thought will help you at all times, and especially in the hour of trial and temptation, and also when the time comes to be generous in the little duties you have, or in moments when heroism is called for.

Many of them rebuked him, telling him to be silent, as people have done to you, when you sensed that Jesus was passing your way. Your heart beat faster and you too began to cry out, prompted by an intimate longing. Then your friends, the easy life, your surroundings, all conspired to tell you: “Keep quiet, don’t cry out. Who are you to be calling Jesus? Don’t bother him.” But poor Bartimaeus would not listen to them. He cried out all the more. Our Lord, who had heard him right from the beginning, let him persevere in his prayer. He does the same with you. Jesus hears our cries from the very first, but he waits. He wants us to be convinced that we need him. He wants us to beseech him, to persist, like the blind man waiting by the road from Jericho. Let us imitate him. Even if God does not immediately give us what we ask, even if many people try to put us off our prayers, let us still go on praying.

And now begins a marvelous dialogue that moves us and sets our hearts on fire, for you and I are now Bartimaeus. Christ, who is God, begins to speak and asks, What do you want me to do for you? The blind man answers, Lord, that I may see. How utterly logical! How about yourself, can you really see? Haven’t you too experienced at times what happened to the blind man of Jericho? I can never forget how, when meditating on this passage many years back, and realizing that Jesus was expecting something of me, though I myself did not know what it was, I made up my own aspirations: “Lord, what is it you want? What are you asking of me?” I had a feeling that he wanted me to take on something new and the cry Master, that I may see, moved me to beseech Christ again and again. Lord, whatever it is that you wish, let it be done.

Saint Josemaría Escrivá (d. 1975) was the founder of Opus Dei, which promotes the pursuit of sanctity in everyday life.

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PRAYER

Let us pray.

Father in Heaven,
 You ask me to receive your son, in your name, who
 restores sight to the blind.
 Help me to receive him more fully. 

Holy Spirit,
 My heart cries out to you in the anxieties of life;
 in life's moments of anguish, 
 please open my heart more fully to you.
 Help me to trust you more deeply.

Jesus, 
 I trust in you. 
 Please open my eyes that I may see
 more clearly with the eyes of faith.
 Open my heart, that I may love as you love; 
 make my heart your own.
 Help me to let your will be done.
 
Have mercy on me, a sinner.

Amen.

Author, Reason2bCatholic