In the Name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.
Today we hear about our Lord entering a town. As He is on His way to the house where He will stay, two blind men follow behind Him, crying out, “Son of David, have mercy on us!”
Those of us who are blessed with healthy vision, even if we have to wear glasses, probably have some idea of how difficult it would be to be blind. If you’ve ever had an injury, or an illness that affected your sight—or if you’ve had a strong prescription and lost your glasses, or had a problem with your contact lenses—then you may have an idea of the fear that comes with losing your sight.
If you’ve ever been driving on the highway and suddenly driven into thick fog, you may know the feeling of fear that comes when you can’t see what is ahead of you. We rely on our vision to know where we are going; we also rely on our vision to avoid threats and dangers that might be around us.
But even if our vision is 20/20, even if we can see clearly with our eyes, the challenges and hardships and uncertainties of life can seem like a kind of blindness. Not knowing what is ahead of us, not knowing what is around us, can be frightening.
When we face tragedy or misfortune, or when the people we love are suffering, it can be frightening. When there is division and strife between us and the people we love, the people we work with, or even other members of the Church, it can be frightening.
Facing the unknown, not knowing if things will get better, or if things will actually get worse—this can feel like a kind of blindness. And this can lead to a sense of spiritual emptiness: a sense of being alone, and in danger.
But, fundamentally, fear and spiritual emptiness are actually a crisis of vocation.
Now, often we think of vocation in terms of a specific ministry in the church, like priestly ordination or a monastic vocation. But there is a much more fundamental vocation that we all share, because vocation means to be called: to be called by God, and to follow Him.
Today, along with the blind men we cry out to Jesus, “Son of David, have mercy on us!” And our Lord is not silent. He answers by calling us out of darkness and fear, by calling us to return to our true vocation.
The most fundamental vocation shared by every single man, woman, and child is to become more like the perfect human being, Jesus Christ; to become ever more like our Lord, God, and Savior in whose image we are created.
Now, it is important to remember that our vocation is not a shortcut around the struggles and hardships of this life. Our vocation is to follow Christ through the darkness of this world, and through death itself, into the kingdom of heaven.
The Word of God entered into this world, took on human flesh, and as perfect God and perfect man, showed us that the way of eternal life is the way of the Cross.
As the Apostle Paul says, “share in suffering for the gospel in the power of God, who saved us and called us with a holy calling, not in virtue of our works but in virtue of His own purpose and the grace which He gave us in Christ Jesus” (2 Tim 1:8–9).
God did not create us to be fearful or spiritually empty—this is not our vocation. Our fundamental Christian vocation is to be vessels of God’s grace. We were created to be vessels of God’s grace.
But a vessel is not something that is meant to be put on a shelf and admired, or locked in a glass box in a museum. A vessel is meant to carry something to someone who is in need, like a glass vial that carries a lifesaving medicine to someone who is ill.
And a sacred vessel is meant to carry God’s grace to those who are suffering, just like the holy chalice, that we’ll soon place on the altar, which carries the sacred Body and Blood of Christ that will be distributed to all of us.
Our vocation is to be vessels of grace, so that we might bring the love, and mercy, and truth of Jesus Christ to those in need.
When our Lord hears the blind men following Him and crying out, “Son of David, have mercy on us!” He restores their sight, and delivers them from their darkness and fear.
Then the people bring to Him a man who was mute and possessed by a demon. And the Lord casts it out, so that the man can speak, so that he can give thanks to God and tell of the wonderful works of the Lord.
“Then Jesus went about all the cities and villages, teaching in their synagogues, preaching the gospel of the kingdom, and healing every sickness and every disease among the people” (Mt 9:35).
The Only-begotten Son of the Father, the Incarnate Word of God, Jesus Christ comes into this world so that He might share God’s grace and healing and mercy with everyone.
Again and again, Christ allowed the sick, the weak, the sinful, and the broken to come to Him, and receive God’s healing and forgiveness and love. Jesus Christ is the perfect vessel of God’s grace. Everyone who comes to Christ with a broken and contrite heart receives God’s grace.
Receiving God’s grace, our sight is restored, our fear is cast out, and we are recalled to our true vocation: to become vessels of grace like Christ, the perfect vessel of God’s grace.
This is the mystery of the Church, the Body of Christ: God calls all of us together, knowing our weakness, and our sorrows, and our fears. And God heals us, casting out fear with perfect love.
As God heals us, He unites us to Himself and unites us to one another, in the perfect bonds of love and mercy and compassion. And united, one to another in bonds of love, God fills His Church with divine grace. United as one Body in Christ, we become vessels of grace for one another, and for our neighbor.
Think for a moment about a church choir.
Each singer, on his or her own, can sing beautifully. But singing together, the choir creates sacred music with harmonic richness, and resonance, and depth that is simply impossible for one singer alone.
This does not mean that every singer sings every note perfectly, every time. But when a singer is slightly off key, or out of tempo, because they are surrounded by the voices of all the other singers, they can quickly adjust, correct, and more perfectly contribute their unique voice to the sound of the choir.
And when the voices of the singers blend perfectly, sacred music can take your breath away. It can make people say, “That is amazing. Listen to that! I want to hear more.”
This is how we work together as the Church to be vessels of God’s grace. In other words, we all contribute, one to another, to foster this growth in each of us and with each of us together.
The reason that sacred choral music produces such a powerful sound is that all of the voices are in proper relationship with one another. Similarly, the Church manifests God’s grace through the relationships of love, and compassion, and forgiveness that exist among the members.
People witness the grace of God in the life of the Church when they see how we are quick to repent, quick to ask forgiveness, and quick to forgive.
People witness the grace of God when they see us tenderly lift one another up when we stumble.
People witness the grace of God when they see us standing by one another in kindness and mercy through hard times.
When people witness God’s grace, they are likely to say, “This is amazing. Look at this! I want to know more.” And as the Body of Christ, we welcome all who seek God’s saving grace.
God’s grace is not some abstract theological concept. It is the real, tangible, power by which God acts in our lives to transform us.
It is this grace, the grace of God, that makes the Church the safe haven, the place where people are nurtured, where we find answers not only for our intellects but also for our hearts.
Today, on the day of the Resurrection, as we pray in the presence of our Venerable Father Herman, who was himself a vessel of God’s grace, may God unite us one to another ever more perfectly as the Body of Christ, so that corporately, united in bonds of love, God might use us as sacred vessels, to bring the pure, radiant, life-giving grace of the Gospel to all who seek everlasting life and the joy of the kingdom.
Amen.