Quinquagesima

Luke 18:31-43

Today’s Gospel begins with Jesus speaking to His disciples. What is He saying? He’s giving them the plan; He’s telling them what will happen next; in a way, He’s giving the blueprint of what must happen for the house to stand and the people of God to live in harmony and peace once again. Hearing this Gospel, you, too, hear the blueprint. You know when Ash Wednesday begins and where the season of Lent is taking you.  But how many of you won’t listen? How many of you won’t understand or comprehend what Jesus has said? How many of you won’t believe these words of Jesus?

Until now, Jesus had already warned the disciples of His pending death. This is the third time Jesus foretold the events ahead for Him. But the disciples do not comprehend what He says. You see, it’s like children growing up; they have a limited ability to understand and are limited by the world, their experiences, and the events around them. The disciples had been told the cross was coming, three times to be exact, but they didn’t listen or comprehend.

Why don’t they comprehend? Because they think as mere humans. They have heard the preaching of Jesus day in and day out; they’ve witnessed the lame walk, and demons cast out of humans, but they still struggle and fail to distinguish between the kingdom of this world and the kingdom of Christ. The disciples think in the ways of children; they believe and comprehend through the lens of this world, by their previous experiences, and the events that have shaped their lives. So, for them and often for you, when a kingdom is established, you will see it as you see temporal governments today: government emblems adorn official buildings, their armies display power and majesty, and their coins reflect images of rulers present and past.

But the kingdom Jesus speaks of can only be grasped by faith. It’s for this reason Jesus lays it all out to the disciples. Jesus instructs the disciples that He will be delivered into the hands of enemies first. Then He will suffer. He will die. In an almost matter-of-fact way, Jesus instructs and provides the details and blueprint of the days ahead for His disciples. They, too, will have to travel with Him to His cross; they, too, will suffer in this life. But His Words should also give them hope; His Words should provide them with faith. Because on the third day, He will rise from the dead.

But the disciples find themselves sitting at Jesus' feet, blind to the teachings they have heard and the miracles they have witnessed: the calming of the storm on the sea, the healing of Jairus’s daughter, and the cleansing of the Lepers.

But then comes the second part of today’s reading, the part when a blind man sees, comprehends, and believes that Jesus is the Christ, the one who is called Savior. The part where none of the disciples who follow Jesus comprehend His words, yet this man, this blind man, sees. How does he see? By listening and hearing. He listens and hears the Word that has gone out among the people regarding Jesus; by this Word, he hears, understands, comprehends, and believes what the disciples don’t. That Jesus is the Christ, and in Him is the blind man, this beggar has mercy, forgiveness, and healing. In Jesus, the Kingdom of heaven is already present for him.

Now, the blind man is in a different place from the disciples, in the darkest corner of life. The only thing this man can do is sit along the side of the road and beg. Begging wasn’t such a faux pas in ancient times; it was commonplace for villagers and those in greatest need to line the streets as dignitaries arrived and cry out for food, lower taxes, gifts, and, most importantly, peace and mercy from their government.

But we are much more civilized. We often see ourselves above asking for help. In fact, we’ve become so hardened that campaigns have been launched to break down barriers when it comes to mental illness, addictions, and the darkest corners of our hearts and minds. We sit comfortably in the shadows of despair, the shadows of our sin; we allow them to become who we are, and we sometimes choose not to seek help; we choose not to beg for mercy and relief from the despairs and sins of this life. We’re too proud. Begging reveals you can’t do something on your own, strips you of personal victories, and reveals a heart in need. But when you are in the darkness of this life, what else is there to do?

The blind man in today’s Gospel provides us with an example of the Christian faith and life. He shows us again that we are not above begging or asking for God’s help. But instead, we need it. Kyrie Eleison is the beggar’s plea, it’s our plea, it’s our prayer: “Lord, have mercy.”

This is what faith looks like: complete reliance on God—trusting not in your own abilities, your mental toughness, or false confidence but in complete and utter dependence on God. 

What does God do when He comes upon this blind man? He stops. That’s right; He stops. This is important because Jesus has a date with the cross. He’s on His way to somewhere important, but He stops and grants mercy to this man; he calls the blind man out of darkness and gives him his sight.

What saved the man? Why did Jesus restore the blind man’s sight? Because of His faith. Jesus says, “Your faith has made you well.” Faith is the key; faith receives, faith carries you through the valleys, and remains through the joys of this life. Faith hears the Word of God and believes. Faith makes the Christian; it comes from outside of you; as Paul writes, “Faith comes by hearing.” (Romans 10:17) The beggar heard God’s Word and believed. He was healed.

So, after being healed by Jesus, this man follows him. He goes where Jesus goes, and Jesus is going to Jerusalem. He is going to the cross, and we must also go now.

There are crosses, times of darkness, sadness, and times of lacking understanding or comprehension in everyone's life. But today, you are invited to listen to the Words of Jesus as the blind man on the side of the road. Jesus comes, and He hears your pleas for mercy, your prayers of great need in this life, and bears them on the cross. He does this out of his immeasurable love for you.

In a way, today’s Gospel lays out the blueprint for the season of Lent that we embark on this Wednesday. It also reveals the blueprint of the Christian life. It’s a pattern of bearing crosses, following Jesus to Jerusalem, dying with Christ, and arising anew. It’s the life of a baptized child of God—a life that cries out for mercy and puts faith solely in Jesus.

The past three weeks have served as preparation for Lent, the journey, battle, and the ups and downs that it can be. These past weeks teach us to despair of ourselves, and these Sundays, known as the Gesimas, highlight our Lutheran heritage and theology: the Solas of Grace Alone, Scripture Alone, and Faith Alone. In these three, we are continually invited to look to Jesus Alone, for in Him, your pleas for mercy are always heard. So, cry out as the blind man, begging for the mercy of Jesus, trusting He has won the victory, He has loved you to the end, and He will surely give His mercy to you, both, in His Word, and now in the Sacrament. +INJ+  

Rev. Noah J. Rogness

Good Shepherd Lutheran Church

Tomah, WI