Skip to main content

"MASTER, LET ME SEE AGAIN!

Fr. Carlo Di Sopra

Oct 23, 2018
790

30th Sunday in Ordinary Time,   Year B          28th October 2018.

I still remember the blind woman in my home town, when she would not perceive me, a young boy, quietly  coming up to sit down beside her; she was very nice with me and I enjoyed talking with her. She had so many sweet stories and experiences to tell a young boy! She was grateful for every minute I spent with her and I always left her with a sense of joy and peace.

Sometimes however, on the way back to my house, I would try to walk while keeping my eyes closed, just to imagine how difficult life must have been for her. I wouldn’t be able to make three steps without stumbling against something. And I wondered how she could be so much at peace, never complaining, always welcoming people, enjoying the last warm rays of the sun setting behind the mountain right in front, or near the fire during the long and cold evenings in winter. In the gospel  story today, Bartimaeus instead, sitting by the side of the road, shouts when hearing that Jesus is passing by. ‘Have pity on me, let me see again’! ‘Your faith has saved you, go’! He recovers his sight and follows Jesus on the way. But what kind of blindness is that which is cured by faith? What kind of healing is that which makes all shouting stop, to make way to a silent  and attentive listening, while walking on the road following ‘the Light’? All of a sudden that road becomes crowded in my mind, everybody is on that road, some sitting, others running or shouting, or crying, or playing or fighting, all affected by blindness, in one way or the other. I myself am there, too, with a life-long prayer: ‘Master, let me see’. Once a friend told me that the difference between darkness and daylight, between blindness and sight, consists in being able to recognise a brother or a sister in every person we meet, with no exception. If this is true, how much blindness in the world, and often in myself too! "Master, let me see". Now I think I can understand my blind friend in my home town in her blindness; probably she could see the presence of God in everyone, and that was the source of her inner peace, which was passed on to all who would approach her, surely to me! The eyes then are not everything, because ‘we cannot see better than through the heart. The essential remains invisible to the eyes’. (Saint-Exupéry)

30th Sunday in Ordinary Time,   Year B          28th October 2018.

I still remember the blind woman in my home town, when she would not perceive me, a young boy, quietly  coming up to sit down beside her; she was very nice with me and I enjoyed talking with her. She had so many sweet stories and experiences to tell a young boy! She was grateful for every minute I spent with her and I always left her with a sense of joy and peace.

Sometimes however, on the way back to my house, I would try to walk while keeping my eyes closed, just to imagine how difficult life must have been for her. I wouldn’t be able to make three steps without stumbling against something. And I wondered how she could be so much at peace, never complaining, always welcoming people, enjoying the last warm rays of the sun setting behind the mountain right in front, or near the fire during the long and cold evenings in winter. In the gospel  story today, Bartimaeus instead, sitting by the side of the road, shouts when hearing that Jesus is passing by. ‘Have pity on me, let me see again’! ‘Your faith has saved you, go’! He recovers his sight and follows Jesus on the way. But what kind of blindness is that which is cured by faith? What kind of healing is that which makes all shouting stop, to make way to a silent  and attentive listening, while walking on the road following ‘the Light’? All of a sudden that road becomes crowded in my mind, everybody is on that road, some sitting, others running or shouting, or crying, or playing or fighting, all affected by blindness, in one way or the other. I myself am there, too, with a life-long prayer: ‘Master, let me see’. Once a friend told me that the difference between darkness and daylight, between blindness and sight, consists in being able to recognise a brother or a sister in every person we meet, with no exception. If this is true, how much blindness in the world, and often in myself too! "Master, let me see". Now I think I can understand my blind friend in my home town in her blindness; probably she could see the presence of God in everyone, and that was the source of her inner peace, which was passed on to all who would approach her, surely to me! The eyes then are not everything, because ‘we cannot see better than through the heart. The essential remains invisible to the eyes’. (Saint-Exupéry)

You like what you see?

Share it!