Notice: The audio for the sermon, the video for the service, and the streaming for the service are not available today due to technical problems. You can access last year’s service for Quinquagesima by clicking this link.
Sermon for Quinquagesima
1 Corinthians 13:1-13 + Luke 18:31-43
All of you here today, I think, are able to see. Some better than others, surely. But none here have gone completely blind yet. It’s not as though we were guaranteed by God the ability to see in this world that’s plagued by sin’s consequences, but we should give thanks to Him for that often-taken-for-granted gift, if we still have it. The opposite of sight is, of course, blindness. And we often speak of two kinds of blindness: literal and figurative. Literal blindness is a problem with your two eyes. Figurative blindness is a problem of the mind or of the heart. If you can’t understand something at all, if you can’t see the path forward in your life, or if you can’t see the solution to a problem, even when it’s staring you in the face, it’s like a kind of blindness.
We encounter both kinds of blindness in today’s Gospel, figurative and literal, and, more importantly, we see how God provides the necessary light to those who sit in darkness.
First, there’s a figurative blindness in Jesus’ disciples. For months, Jesus has been telling them plainly that He is going to die. And it’s not going to be a natural death. Behold, we are going up to Jerusalem, and all the things that were written through the prophets concerning the Son of Man will be finished. For he will be delivered to the Gentiles, and he will be mocked and mistreated and spit upon. And they will scourge him and put him to death. And on the third day he will rise again.
There it is. A very simple, straightforward explanation, given by Jesus, of exactly what was going to happen to Him in Jerusalem. He’s been saying it just that clearly for at least six months. He is going to be handed over, by the Jews, to the Gentiles. He’ll be mocked and mistreated and spit upon. They will scourge Him and kill Him. And then He’ll rise from the dead. It’s like Jesus is shining a bright light on the path ahead.
And that wasn’t the only light shining on the path ahead. As He says, all the things that were written through the prophets concerning the Son of Man will be finished. The Old Testament Scriptures were a light shining on Him and on the path ahead of Him: the path of suffering and death, resurrection and glory. Between the Old Testament prophecies and the clear words of Jesus, the disciples should have been able to see it all clearly.
But they couldn’t. They understood none of these things; this saying was hidden from them, and they did not understand the things that were said. Even if the prophecies were a little obscure, the words of Jesus were crystal clear. But it clashed with the disciples’ own thoughts of what the Christ had come to do. They believed Jesus was the Christ. But they were so convinced that the Christ was coming to reign over Jerusalem that they couldn’t make any sense of this prediction of rejection, suffering, and death. It was the “glory” part that they were fixated on. What’s more, “it was hidden from them,” St. Luke writes. The Holy Spirit wasn’t ready for them to understand everything yet, so He kept them in the dark—not about who Jesus was, but about how exactly He would carry out His mission of bringing salvation to His people. In that way, Jesus’ disciples suffered from a sort of figurative blindness.
Then we encounter a man who was suffering, not from figurative blindness, but from literal blindness. His eyes didn’t work. He couldn’t see. And that left him with another problem. He couldn’t work. He was poor. He was a beggar.
But when that beggar heard the commotion of Jesus and the crowds passing by, he demonstrated that, though his physical eyes didn’t work, he was actually able to see better than most. Hearing the multitude passing by, he asked what it meant. And they told him that Jesus of Nazareth was passing by. And he cried out, saying, “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!” And those who were at the front warned him to be quiet, but he cried out all the more, “Son of David, have mercy on me! This blind beggar, a son of Israel, knew who Jesus of Nazareth was. Not just that He was a Rabbi who had been traveling around the land of Israel for the past three years. But that Jesus was “the Son of David,” the promised Christ. And not only that, but that, as the promised Christ, Jesus had come for people like him, to have mercy on those who needed mercy.
The crowds displayed a bit of their own figurative blindness here. They warned the blind man to be quiet, to leave Jesus alone, to respect their triumphal parade toward Jerusalem. They had lost sight of who Jesus was and why He had come. He was the good and kind Master, always generous with His time, always concerned for anyone in need, always ready to help. If they had started to see Him any differently than that, then they were blind—blinded by their own aspirations of glory and victory through their association with this King of the Jews. Oh, they saw Him as their King. But they obviously had no idea—even less understanding than Jesus’ disciples—of what the King of the Jews was actually going to Jerusalem to do. “Jesus of Nazareth, the King of the Jews” was written on the sign posted on the cross where Jesus died. And when the Jews saw it, most of them saw their “king” as a failure.
But Jesus wasn’t listening to the crowds telling the blind man to be quiet. He was listening to the blind man who was calling out to Him for mercy. And He stopped, and He asked the blind man, What do you want me to do for you? It’s not as obvious a question as you might think. This blind man had sat there at the entrance to Jericho every day for who knows how long, asking people for mercy, and by mercy, he normally meant, money. Charity. Alms for the poor. But not today. He doesn’t want money from Jesus. He wants what only the Son of David can provide: healing from his blindness. “Lord, that I may receive my sight!” And Jesus said to him, “Receive your sight! Your faith has saved you.” And as soon as the man was healed of his blindness, he followed Jesus, glorifying God. And all the people saw it and gave praise to God.
There are two kinds of blindness in this Gospel, one figurative and the other literal. But the solution to both was the same. Trust in Jesus. Keep trusting in Jesus, no matter how much you can see or not see. Recognize Him for who He is: the Son of God who came into this world to save sinners, and to do it by willingly allowing Himself to be delivered to the Gentiles, to be mocked and mistreated and spit upon, scourged and put to death, all so that you might see that God is good, that He loves you and has done everything necessary—everything imaginable—for you to be rescued from sin, from death, and from the devil.
So trust in Jesus and seek mercy from Jesus. Keep seeking it; don’t give up seeking it until you receive it. And you will! Follow Jesus. Keep following Jesus, even if the path leads to the cross. And it will! But it will also lead to the resurrection from the dead and eternal life. Eventually, when the time is right, if you’ve kept trusting in Him, seeking mercy from Him, and following Him, He will take care of whatever blindness you’re suffering from. You aren’t meant to see everything just yet. But blindness won’t be your downfall, if you keep hearing and believing the Word of God.
As for following Jesus, you can’t follow Him to Jerusalem literally. But you can figuratively as you hear His Word during the coming Lenten season, and especially during Holy Week when we will follow Jesus through all His suffering and “watch” Him die for our sins.
You can also follow Him by living like Him, following in His footsteps. And the Apostle Paul gave you a wonderful roadmap for that in today’s Epistle. The “love chapter” of the Bible. Love is patient. It is kind. Love does not envy. Love does not boast. It is not conceited. It does not behave indecently. It does not seek its own. It does not become angry. It does not dwell on evil. It does not rejoice in iniquity but rejoices in the truth. It bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.
What Paul describes there is, in a word, Jesus. If you would follow Him, then let it also describe you. Make every effort to walk in love, as Jesus walked in love, even though you don’t understand everything the Scriptures say, even though you don’t understand all that happens in the world, even though you don’t clearly see the path ahead. Because, as Paul also says in the Epistle, all of us have a degree of “blindness,” the inability to see things clearly this side of heaven. Now we see through a mirror, indistinctly; but then we will see face to face. Now I know in part; but then I will know fully, even as I am also fully known. And now faith, hope, and love remain, these three; but the greatest of these is love.
Faith, hope, and love remain as the virtues God would have us pursue in this life, until all things become clear in the next life. So pursue them as you follow Christ. Follow Him blindly, if necessary, because, although you can’t see, He can see perfectly. So let Him take you by the hand and lead you. Let Him take you by the ear and lead you by His Word, which is, as St. Peter wrote, like a lamp shining in a dark place. Amen.
