My friends, it would seem that this Sunday’s readings are offering a two-sided message for us to ponder.  “Ministry”—doing it, that is, is one side of the message, and doing it with “mercy” seems to be the other side. 

   Jeremiah begins today as he speaks simply, Yahweh’s message to the Israelites, gathering them from all places— “I guided them in my mercy,” leading them to streams of water.  The writer to the Hebrews lets us know that their “high priest” will deal with them, “patiently” and this is because the high priest too is, “beset by weakness.”  And this my friends is why we can turn to our brother Jesus in our weakness as he knows what it is to live a human life. 

   In the gospel today from Mark, we hear the beautiful story of Bartimaeus who is physically blind and of how Jesus, our human brother deals with him—with mercy and patience.  And the psalmist reminds us, “God has done great things for us!” 

   As you all know, because I have told you many times before, the wisdom of those who choose our Sunday readings, intend that we will not just read the messages contained within and think, “that’s good for them,” but go that next step and apply the wisdom to our own lives as well. 

   I will begin our application by going to the poignant story of the blind beggar, Bartimaeus.  What does he say?  “I want to see,” and we can imagine that in his need, he stresses this fact— “God, I just want to see!”  Jesus’ response is to deal with him mercifully. 

   The patience of which I spoke was used with regard to his apostles who attempt to keep Bartimaeus quiet.  Jesus needs to keep telling this lot to focus on what is most important—listening and then doing what they can to help. 

    With regard to us then—could Bartimaeus’ prayer be ours as well?  “God, I just want to see,” remembering of course, that there are several ways of being blind:  physically, emotionally, and spiritually.  I know for sure, in my own life, when I am trying to seek a balance between being firm and being loving, that I pray, “O God, help me to see the piece that I am perhaps missing.”  

   I mentioned in an earlier homily that I have been reading, Just Mercy by Bryan Stevenson.  I just finished it this past week and when all is said and done; I find that what struck me most in his story of working with his mostly black, brothers and sisters, some as young as 14 years of age, on death row, was the apparent, “lack of mercy” that he saw in judges, prosecutors, and the general public, apart from family members in the cases he tried as a lawyer, and especially when the defendants were black. 

   Rather than the democratic standard of, “innocent until proven guilty”—the opposite was often true for black defendants—the assumption going in of, “guilty as charged,” –often with little work expended by the defense, to prove innocence.  It is perhaps a good lesson for us all as we check our assumptions, thoughts, and feelings where others are concerned—especially when we disagree with them. 

   An assumption/question coming from Scripture where our brother Jesus was concerned might be instructive as we ponder how we look at others— “Can anything good come out of Nazareth?”  We can simply fill in the town, tribe, family name.  It would seem that “mercy” is quite close to “love” –the virtue that we as Jesus’ followers must always apply in dealing with our world.

   So, we have laid out “the how,” we should minister (with mercy) as Jesus’ followers in our world; let’s now turn to the actual “ministry” that each of us is called to in our world.  I think sometimes, people feel that “ministry” is about what the priest or pastor does in a parish and has little to do with me, thank you very much, and that would be wrong if we thought that.  I give you myself as a prime example.

   For many years, I prayed that I/we would find a place, a community, where all would be included, all valued and was often disappointed as I looked, until one day, (and you all know my story) God basically said, “Kathy, why don’t you form that community?” 

   Each of us friends, is called to do our part.  Mine has been to pastor here at All Are One Catholic church—some of you have been called to speak truth to power through letters to the editor and to bishops and have done so with courage.  Others have spoken out to friends and family members about the rightness of women serving at the altars of our churches and others do it through their personal witness here in attending Mass presided over by an illicit, albeit valid woman priest.  

   So friends, don’t take lightly what each of you does here—not everyone has the courage that you have.  You can therefore, humbly and I do underscore that, “humbly,” pat yourself on the back and add a prayer that we, as a community, can always, humbly witness to the powers-that-be, that it is right for us to be here, whether we are ever recognized officially or not. 

   The writer to the Hebrews reminds us that being able to minister to others—something we do within this community through our concern for each other, as well as outreach in our larger community of Winona through Home Delivered Meals, monthly meals to the Catholic Worker house and financial gifts to local, national, and international organizations established to assist those in need is a gift we have received from God, not for ourselves, but for others.  In other words, God has opened our hearts to give in all the ways that we do, so that we truly can continue our brother Jesus’ work upon the earth.  All ministers, official and unofficial must always remember this!  Each and all have been gifted for service, not for us, but for others. 

   In conclusion my friends, let’s return a final time to our brother, Bartimaeus to learn what we can from him.  It is good to remember that he got the attention of Jesus and others because he was, “making a ruckus”—something we recall the apostles wanted to put a halt to.  Sometimes, in order to jump start some action, “a ruckus” may be needed. 

   In Bartimaeus’ time, most physical afflictions were seen as punishment for one’s sins.  Into the midst of that reality, Bartimaeus still implores, “God, I just want to see!”  Would that more of us were willing to make a ruckus when there just seems to be something wrong! 

   On every Thursday morning here in Winona, except for maybe Thanksgiving, the “postcard writers” –true ministers in every way, spend two hours, “making a ruckus” as they write our Congress people asking them to act on behalf of all the people they purport to serve.

   John Lewis, former Congress person, now gone home to God, “made a ruckus” throughout his many years in Congress—only he called it, “making good trouble.” 

   What would our world be like if we each could sincerely pray Bartimaeus’ prayer, “God, I just want to see” so that I am not blind to the real ways of suffering in my world.

   How would it be if the bishops around our country, meeting in November would decide to become real listeners of women, of youth and young adults, of the LGBTQ community, of all the down-trodden and ask each group the question our brother Jesus asked Bartimaeus, “What do you want me to do for you?”  And then, do it!

   All of this “stuff” is not easy to do, granted, but we weren’t promised, “easy” when we signed on.  At our baptisms, others said, “yes” for us; at our confirmations, we said, “yes” for ourselves—yes to following in Jesus’ footsteps—that should mean something to each of us!  We shouldn’t be proud of an epitaph that reads, “He/She got through life pretty much unscathed.” 

   In that light then, my friends, I’d like to close with the following lines from The Talmud, the body of Jewish civil and ceremonial law—something our brother Jesus would have been very familiar with. I have shared these words before, but thought they bared repeating:

Do not be daunted, by the enormity of the world’s grief.

Do just[ice] now.

Love mercy, now.

Walk humbly, now

You are not obligated to complete the work, but neither are you free to abandon it.   Amen? Amen!

   My friends, as I mentioned in the bulletin, the readings for this weekend are a tutorial on how to follow our brother, Jesus.  Each of us in this present time is called to live out our baptisms and confirmations in ways that are meaningful for us now—in other words—taking those nice, challenging stories of the past and applying them to our lives.

   At a family dinner this past week, we had a conversation about, “following in Jesus’ footsteps” and of how different people see, “this call” in different ways.  Some, like Francis of Assisi lived out, in his life the literal meaning of Jesus’ words in Scripture, “sell all that you have, [and he was a rich, young man] give to the poor, and come, follow me.”

   Francis then, went on for the remainder of his life, preaching the Good News of Jesus, living most simply upon the earth.  Francis “preached” more often through action, than he did through words.  He is known to have said, “Preach always, if necessary, use words!” 

   Our family discussion centered upon the notion that there are many ways to follow Jesus—some may do it rather literally, as did Francis and his early followers, women included, through the example and life of Clare of Assisi, and others, like many of us, choose to follow Jesus balancing and sharing, family life, work, prayer, and service.

   However we choose to live our lives, our call is always to keep our eyes on our brother from Nazareth and keep checking—as we go, to see that of all the choices we can make throughout our lives; we continually attempt to do, the most loving thing.

   The Scriptures today, especially the gospel, tell us that we are here to serve, not to be served.  This command from our brother Jesus is often one of the hardest for many to fulfill.   On the one hand, we are here to have a human experience—spiritual beings though we are.  There is so much about our earthly lives that is most appealing, beautiful, and good, but we must always seek balance in the living out of all that is good.  “How much do I need and how much do I want?” as my dear, good mother-in-law, Margaret used to say. 

   Many of you are probably familiar with the PBS Masterpiece production of Downton Abbey.  Robert and I are presently re-watching the series, primarily because of its fine actors, writing and just because it is a good story.  As with any “good story,” there is struggle between good and bad, power and control and the natural challenges that come to individual lives in the face of all of the above.

   The piece that is particularly interesting in the light of today’s Scriptures, that we, live, “to serve” and not, “be served” is the clear separation of class that is so distinctly portrayed in the Downton Abbey series.  From the aristocracy that find themselves more concerned about the correct piece of clothing, the correct dining service, or the appropriate “table talk,” than about the love-less affect these protocols can often have upon those raised in the system to those looking on—the staff, who know that their lives can never be part of all this elegance except through living vicariously, the lives of their masters. 

   Interestingly though, the constant, “rub” of these classes upon each other opens up some real challenge to those who are served to see life through other’s eyes and appreciate the real struggles therein. 

   Perhaps this is some of the real appeal of a story that is well-written and willing to tackle some tough issues. Many of us, if not all can find ourselves within the story lines and ask ourselves how we view our world.  What is the focus from which we truly understand the problems that people unlike ourselves walk with, day in and day out? 

   I am presently reading, Just Mercy: A Story of Justice and Redemption, by Bryan Stevenson. Many of you are probably aware that he is a black lawyer, and I mention his race only to indicate that he does understand the racism faced by his black brothers and sisters.  He has worked on death row, with these “brothers and sisters” seeking justice, which has been denied them often times simply because of the color of their skin.  Stevenson found, time and time again, that crimes committed by white folks in Alabama, where he worked, that may get them, “a slap on the wrist,” landed black folk in jail with life sentences, sometimes even, the death penalty.  Again, in light of today’s Scriptures, Stevenson’s book title, Just Mercy, is another way of talking about the challenge to—certainly Christians, but more basically, to all humans, to do the “most loving thing.” 

   When a group of people are presumed guilty before any evidence has been looked at, we know that something is clearly wrong. I can’t even imagine what being black in this country, living with the day-to-day fear of being stopped by the police and the possible aftermath of that must feel like! Can’t even imagine! 

   When I hear horribly, unbelievable stories of our black brothers and sisters as Stevenson relates, of injustice, lack of understanding and mercy being dealt out, to say nothing of lack of human concern; I am reminded afresh, of the step-up that I enjoy, in having been born white, through nothing I had done, just as those born black, through no fault of their own, are condemned to a life, unfair from the beginning.

   As a country we should be better than this, advocating for those here who don’t have all they need to live as God intended. As someone has said, “This is our experiment here, not God’s—we have free will and can make of it whatever we so choose.” 

   The prophet Isaiah tells us today, “If you make yourself a reparation offering…” [you will basically increase your life—not only in physical days, but emotionally and spiritually too!]  And the prophet continues, “the will of Yahweh will prevail through you.” 

   On the surface, Isaiah is speaking about the coming of the Messiah—of what he will suffer in living out his human life, trying to be true to the law of love in service to others.  Digging deeper though, this reading is about each of us, my friends. Our brother Jesus has shown us the way and we must follow.  The writer to the Hebrews encourages us in our attempts in following Jesus—he was tempted in all ways as we are but did not give in to it.  This lets us know that we are not alone and have someone to turn to in all our trials. 

   A complete reading of the passage today from Hebrews, thought to perhaps have been penned by Paul’s disciple, Barnabas, lets us know that our life as humans will bring suffering too—it is what being human, an imperfect state is all about.  Through the examples I shared here today, I think we can see that whether rich or poor, black, or white, or any other differences that may set us apart, we are each called to struggle with the human condition.  Some of us may have more than others to begin with, but none of us, I truly believe makes it through our human journey and out the other side for what comes next without struggling with the meaning of life. 

   We must ask, “Is it all just about me, us—or are we called to get beyond ourselves—to serve, ultimately—to share, rather than to claim it all—everything in my path—for my own welfare?  Getting beyond ourselves will truly call us into service for others and that would seem to be the overall message from the prophets—Isaiah, Barnabas, and Jesus, through Mark, today.   Amen? Amen!