Wide-Eyed Wonder
Earlier today, I celebrated the weekly Friday morning (6:30 a.m.) Eucharist at Trinity Church. The appointed Gospel for the Friday in the First Week of Advent was Matthew 9:27-31 -- the story of Jesus healing two blind men. Yesterday, while reading the story to prepare for today's liturgy, I found myself thinking, "What does this have to do with Advent?" Granted, the blind seeing, deaf hearing, lame walking and mute speaking were seen by the prophets (particularly Isaiah) as "signs" of a new age of God's dominion dawning on earth, but that seemed a bit theoretical for such an early hour of the day. And so, here's the executive summary of this morning's homily:
Any one of us who have had the experience of taking a child between the ages of two and five years of age out at night to see the holiday lights, have witnessed, first hand, what can only be described as wide-eyed wonder. Children's eyes become saucer-like as they try to take it all in. They "ooh" and "aah" (with adult encouragement). They laugh. They giggle. Sometimes they resist their adult companions' encouragement to move along. They want to experience every moment fully for as long as they are permitted to watch the blinking and twinkling.
My guess is that the two men who are healed of blindness by Jesus went away from that encounter with their eyes wide -- beholding the colors, textures, light and shadows of a world that had only moments before, been nothing but darkness. I like to think they simply ran from one place to another, looking at each scene intently -- or maybe, they went directly to their homes and looked fully into the eyes of loved ones that they had known all their lives but had never seen. Wide-eyed wonder? Absolutely!
We live in a culture which has taught us to look at life a much different way, don't we? We are taught to see the flaw and not the diamond. To see the problem and not the solution. To see what's wrong intead of what's right. To trade wide-eyed wonder for squinty-eyed cynicism.
Maybe Advent can be a time of refocusing our vision. Maybe instead of only looking at life as a battle to be endured, we can give thanks for life as a gift to be treasured. Yes, I know that people are in pain, fear and anxiety. Yes, I know that there are people who have no gainful employment or who live without the benefit of shelter. Yes, I know that problems and difficulties abound. And this is precisely why Advent is so necessary!
We need this mysterious time of waiting. We need the eyes of our faith opened wide to see the miracle of God's coming into the world. We need to be healed of our blindness -- our blindness to God's grace, our blindness to God's mercy, our blindness to God's movement in this world, here and now. We wait for the time when our faith will be sight. We wait for the time when our vision will be clear. We wait for the time when our eyes are opened -- in wide-eyed wonder.
Maranatha. Come Lord Jesus!
Earlier today, I celebrated the weekly Friday morning (6:30 a.m.) Eucharist at Trinity Church. The appointed Gospel for the Friday in the First Week of Advent was Matthew 9:27-31 -- the story of Jesus healing two blind men. Yesterday, while reading the story to prepare for today's liturgy, I found myself thinking, "What does this have to do with Advent?" Granted, the blind seeing, deaf hearing, lame walking and mute speaking were seen by the prophets (particularly Isaiah) as "signs" of a new age of God's dominion dawning on earth, but that seemed a bit theoretical for such an early hour of the day. And so, here's the executive summary of this morning's homily:
Any one of us who have had the experience of taking a child between the ages of two and five years of age out at night to see the holiday lights, have witnessed, first hand, what can only be described as wide-eyed wonder. Children's eyes become saucer-like as they try to take it all in. They "ooh" and "aah" (with adult encouragement). They laugh. They giggle. Sometimes they resist their adult companions' encouragement to move along. They want to experience every moment fully for as long as they are permitted to watch the blinking and twinkling.
My guess is that the two men who are healed of blindness by Jesus went away from that encounter with their eyes wide -- beholding the colors, textures, light and shadows of a world that had only moments before, been nothing but darkness. I like to think they simply ran from one place to another, looking at each scene intently -- or maybe, they went directly to their homes and looked fully into the eyes of loved ones that they had known all their lives but had never seen. Wide-eyed wonder? Absolutely!
We live in a culture which has taught us to look at life a much different way, don't we? We are taught to see the flaw and not the diamond. To see the problem and not the solution. To see what's wrong intead of what's right. To trade wide-eyed wonder for squinty-eyed cynicism.
Maybe Advent can be a time of refocusing our vision. Maybe instead of only looking at life as a battle to be endured, we can give thanks for life as a gift to be treasured. Yes, I know that people are in pain, fear and anxiety. Yes, I know that there are people who have no gainful employment or who live without the benefit of shelter. Yes, I know that problems and difficulties abound. And this is precisely why Advent is so necessary!
We need this mysterious time of waiting. We need the eyes of our faith opened wide to see the miracle of God's coming into the world. We need to be healed of our blindness -- our blindness to God's grace, our blindness to God's mercy, our blindness to God's movement in this world, here and now. We wait for the time when our faith will be sight. We wait for the time when our vision will be clear. We wait for the time when our eyes are opened -- in wide-eyed wonder.
Maranatha. Come Lord Jesus!
posted by FrGaryB | 2:10 PM
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