Christ Is Passing By

By Fr. Conor Donnelly

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In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

My Lord and my God, I firmly believe that you are here, that you see me, that you hear me. I adore you with profound reverence. I ask your pardon for my sins and grace to make this time of prayer fruitful. My Immaculate Mother, Saint Joseph, my father and lord, my guardian angel, intercede for me.

God passes alongside the lives of men giving His light and joy.

In the Book of the Prophet Jeremiah, we’re told the Lord rejoices at the salvation of the remnant of Israel when they returned from exile to the Promised Land. “See, I will bring them back from the land of the North and gather them from the far ends of the earth…the blind and the lame…a great company returning here” (Jer. 31:8).

After so much suffering, the Prophet announces the blessings of the Lord upon His People. “They had left in tears, I will comfort them,” he says, “as I lead them back; I will guide them to streams of water, by a smooth path where they will not stumble” (Jer. 31:9).

Jesus fulfills all these prophecies. We’re told in the Acts of the Apostles that “He went about the world doing good” (Acts 10:38), even for those who did not ask His help. Christ is the revelation of the fullness of divine mercy to the most needy.

No form of misery could separate men from Christ. He gave sight to the blind. He cured leprosy. He healed the lame and the paralytics. He fed hungry multitudes. He expelled demons. He approached people who had the greatest suffering in soul or body.

St. Bernard says, “We are the ones who have to go to Jesus. Our eyes have been blind. … We have lain paralyzed on our mats, incapable of reaching the grandeur of God. This is why our most lovable Savior and Healer of souls has descended from on high” (Bernard, Homily on the First Sunday of Advent).

In Friends of God, we’re told, “We must have complete faith in the one who saves us, in this divine Doctor who was sent with the express purpose of curing us, and the more serious or hopeless our illness is, the stronger our faith has to be” (Josemaría Escrivá, Friends of God, Point 193).

There may be times in our life when we experience more hardship than usual. There could be periods of greater temptation. We might grow weary of the struggle. We might have periods of interior darkness and trial.

These are all moments when we need to turn to Jesus, who is always by our side. We need to have a humble and sincere faith, like the sick and the suffering people of the Gospels.

Then we will cry out to the Master, “‘Lord, put not your trust in me. But I put my trust in you.’ Then, as we sense in our hearts the love, the compassion, the tenderness of Christ’s gaze upon us, for he never abandons us, we come to understand the full meaning of those words of St. Paul: virtus in infirmitate perficitur–strength is made perfect in weakness (2 Cor. 12:9).

“If we have faith in Our Lord, in spite of our failings—or, rather, with our failings—we [shall] be faithful to Our Father, God. His divine power will shine forth in us, sustaining us in our weakness” (ibid., Point 194). It can be a great comfort to know that Christ is near us.

In St. Mark we read the story of where Jesus cures the blind beggar Bartimaeus (Mark 10:46-52). The Master is leaving Jericho on His way to Jerusalem. That’s where Bartimaeus makes his immortal appeal: “When he heard that it was Jesus of Nazareth, he began to shout and to say, ‘Son of David have pity on me.’”

This man, who lived in complete darkness, had a tremendous desire for light, for clarity, for a cure. He sensed that this was his moment. How long he had been waiting for this opportunity. The Master had come within range of his voice.

“Many people around scolded him and told him to be quiet, but he only shouted all the louder.” He couldn’t miss this chance. This is a great example for us to follow.

Christ is always within range of our voice, of our prayer. He’s passing close by us so that we will not be afraid to call to Him. St. Augustine says, “He feared that Jesus would pass by and never return” (Augustine, Sermon 88,13).

We can’t neglect any opportunity for divine grace. We need to call out to Jesus forcefully, even in the depths of our soul: “Jesus, Son of David, have pity on me! Iesu, Fili David, miserere mei!”

We could make the prayer of St. Bernard our own when he says, “My only merit is the mercy of the Lord. I will never lack any merit as long as he is merciful. And since the mercy of the Lord is superabundant, then superabundant are my merits” (Bernard, Homily on the ‘Song of Songs’).

We go to Him with these merits: Jesus, Son of David. St. Augustine teaches us that we should call out to Jesus with our prayer and good works (Augustine, Sermon 349,5). These works include acts of charity, professional work well done, purity of soul after a contrite confession of our sins…

The blind man overcame the obstacles of his environment and obtained his heart’s desire. “Jesus stopped and said, ‘Call him here.’ So they called the blind man. ‘Courage,’ they said, ‘get up; he is calling you.’ So throwing off his cloak, he jumped up and went to Jesus” (Mark 10:49-50).

The Lord had heard the cries of Bartimaeus from the start. But He wanted the blind beggar to give us a graphic example of perseverance in prayer.

Finally, he finds himself before Our Lord. “And now begins a dialogue [with God], a marvelous dialogue that can move us and set our hearts on fire, because you and I are now Bartimaeus.

“Christ, who is God, begins to speak and asks, ‘What do you want me to do for you?’ Bartimaeus answers, ‘Lord, that I may see’ (Mark 10:51). How utterly logical!” (J. Escrivá, Friends of God, Point 192).

We can ask ourselves: What about me? Can I really see?

We too may have experienced at times what happened to the blind man at Jericho. We may remember some time when we were meditating on this passage, perhaps many years ago, and realizing that Our Lord was expecting something of us, though we did not know what it was.

St. Josemaría says similar stories. He said, “I did not know what it was that God was asking of me, so I made up my own aspirations. ‘Lord, what is it that you want? What are you asking of me?’ I had a feeling that he wanted me to take on something new, so the cry, ‘Lord, that I may see,’ moved me to beseech Christ again and again, ‘Lord, whatever it is that you wish, let it be done.’

“It is now to you that Christ is speaking. He asks you, ‘What is it you want of me?’ We can answer, ‘Lord, that I may see.’ Then Jesus answers, ‘Away home with you, your faith has brought you recovery.’ And all at once Bartimaeus recovered his sight and followed Jesus along the way (Mark 10:52).

“Following Jesus on his way, we hopefully have also understood what Our Lord was asking from us, and have decided to accompany him on his way. We’re trying to walk in his footsteps, to clothe ourselves in Christ’s clothing, to be Christ himself.”

St. Josemaría says, “Your faith, your faith in the light Our Lord is giving you, must be most operative and full of sacrifice. Don’t fool yourself. Don’t think you’re going to find new ways. The faith he demands of us is as I have said. We must keep step with him, working generously and at the same time uprooting and getting rid of everything that gets in the way” (cf. ibid., Point 193).

In the Psalms, we read: “The Lord has done great things for us; we are filled with joy. When the Lord delivered Zion from bondage, it seemed like a dream. Then was our mouth filled with laughter, on our lips there were songs. Deliver us, O Lord, from our bondage as streams in dry land. Those who are sowing in tears will sing when they reap” (Ps. 126:1–5).

This Psalm of jubilation records the good fortune of the Israelites who were allowed by Cyrus to return to the land of their fathers. The Chosen People were full of hope at the prospect of rebuilding the Temple and the Holy City.

This Psalm was later chanted on pilgrimages to Jerusalem, particularly on the occasion of important Jewish feasts. That’s why the Psalm has been called the Pilgrimage Canticle.

To the south of Palestine, there is a desert called the Negev desert. During the rainy season, that area would be converted into an oasis. As the captives from Babylon returned to Israel they asked the Lord to renew the earth, to establish a new period of blessings. Their tears were converted into the seeds of conversion and repentance for their past sins, which had brought down divine punishment.

The farmer who becomes wearied by sowing the field will one day return to reap the grain of his labors. “So too,” says one author, “the Chosen People sowed tears of reparation, the harvest from which they came to reap with joy and exaltation” (cf. David de las Heras, Ascetical and Theological Commentary on the Psalms).

This Psalm is a foretaste of the Messianic joy of which we also found an echo in some of the readings of the Gospels. Bartimaeus partakes of this salvation, which will have its fullness in the Passion, Death, and Resurrection of Christ.

Jesus was attracted to the total blindness and great poverty of Bartimaeus. The Lord more than compensated him for his hardships. After his cure, the life of Bartimaeus was utterly changed. “He followed Him along the road” (cf. Mark 10:52). Bartimaeus had become a disciple of the Master.

Our suffering, our blindness, can serve as a means for an encounter with Jesus. We can follow Him with more humility, with greater purity. We can draw closer to Him: “Courage, get up; he is calling you.”

In The Forge, we’re told, “In those days, the Gospel tells us, the Lord was passing by; and they, the sick, called to him and sought him out. Now, too, Christ is passing by, in your Christian life. If you help him, many will come to know him, will call [to] him, will ask him for help, and their eyes will be opened to the marvelous light of grace” (J. Escrivá, The Forge, Point 665).

“Lord, help me to see what it is you want of me. Domine ut videam” (Mark 10:52).

Immediately after the multiplication of the loaves and the fishes, Our Lord took leave of the crowds and ordered the disciples to set out in their boats (Matt. 14:22-36).

It must have been late in the evening. After a long day of work, attending to those who sought Him out, Jesus felt compelled to pray. He walked up onto a nearby hill and, after nightfall, remained there alone, in conversation with His Father in heaven.

From that hilltop, Our Lord saw the apostles far offshore, and their boat—buffeted by the waves, the wind against them—and they were in danger.

The Pasch was near and there was a full moon, so Jesus could make out the little craft in the middle of the lake. But in the fourth watch of the night, around three in the morning, well before sunrise, He came to them walking upon the sea.

Seeing a vague figure coming over the surface of the sea towards the place where they were struggling, the apostles were filled with fear. They cried out, “It is a ghost!” They began shouting out in terror.

But when Our Lord revealed Himself, He said, “Take courage; it is I, do not be afraid” (Matt. 14:27).

There’s a custom that when a new Pope is elected, he has his portrait painted, and he sees the portrait when it’s finished and he signs it with his initials, or with his signature.

But in the case of one Pope some time ago, they got a rather modernistic painter to paint his portrait with very avant-garde brushstrokes. When eventually the Pope came to look at his portrait, he could hardly recognize himself. Instead of signing his signature, he wrote a phrase of the Gospel which said, “Take courage; it is I, do not be afraid.”

Christ always presents Himself in this manner in the life of a Christian, giving encouragement and serenity. “Take courage.”

Peter takes courage; led on by his love, and moved by his desire to be close to the Master, he makes an unexpected request: “Lord, if it is you, bid me come to you over the water” (Matt. 14:28). Love’s daring has no limits, and so, Our Lord yields easily to the request. He said, “Come.”

Peter got out of the boat and began to walk on the water towards Jesus. These were stirring moments for all of them. Peter gave up the safety of the boat at the word of Our Lord. He didn’t remain clinging to the side of the vessel, but he went towards Jesus, who was now only a few yards away.

The apostles in the boat are awestruck. They contemplate Peter moving forward in the swirling waves as he walks on the water. Faith and confidence in his Master are all that sustain him—only that.

The difficulties that surround us don’t matter if we walk with faith and confidence towards Jesus, who is waiting for us. It doesn’t matter if the waves are high and the wind is strong, or that it’s not natural for man to walk on water. If we keep our eyes on Jesus, we can do anything, and looking at Him is the virtue of piety.

If through prayer and the sacraments we remain close to Jesus, we will remain on the right path. If our gaze wanders away from Jesus, we will sink; we will be incapable of even a single step, even on firm ground.

Peter’s faith was great at first, but soon it began to diminish. He realized the force of the waves and the wind. St. John says that the wind was strong (John 6:18).

He realizes that it is impossible for a man to walk on water. He worries about the difficulties and forgets the only thing that was keeping him afloat: the word of the Lord.

He paid attention to the obstacles and his faith diminished. The miracle was linked to complete trust in Christ.

At times, God asks for things which seem apparently impossible, but which become a reality when we act with faith, with our sight fixed on the Lord.

On one occasion, St. Josemaría, speaking to a daughter of his who was going to another country where there would be difficulties inseparable from the beginning of the apostolic work, said to her, “When I ask something of you, my daughter, don’t tell me that it is impossible, because I know that already. Since I began the Work, Our Lord has asked me to do many impossible things, and then they have become a reality” (Peter Berglar, Opus Dei—Life and Work of the Founder).

They’ve kept on happening. So it was with the apostolic work in many countries, and vocations came, and with them people who were willing to help out in that work with great generosity and detachment.

In many ways St. Josemaría told his children: “Men of faith are needed and the great works of Scripture will be repeated” (cf. J. Escrivá, The Way, Point 586). Those great works are done each day on earth. This is the way it has always been in the history of the Church.

It is God who keeps us afloat and makes us effective in the midst of those apparent impossibilities, of an environment which often goes against the Christian ideal. It is He who makes us walk on water—on one condition: that we should keep our eyes set on Christ and not allow obstacles and temptations to distract us.

In his commentary on the Gospel, St. John Chrysostom points out that Jesus taught Peter, through personal experience, that all his fortitude came from Jesus. Left to his own devices, Peter could only expect weakness and misery. “When our cooperation is lacking,” continued Chrysostom, “God also ceases to help us” (John Chrysostom, Homilies on St. Matthew’s Gospel).

That’s why as soon as Peter began to fear and doubt, he also began to sink. When faith diminishes, difficulties seem greater.

“Living faith depends on my ability to respond to God, who calls me and wants to treat me as a friend, as one who is the great witness of my life. If I respond to him and love him, and if he is someone familiar in my life, if I live close to him, I am safeguarding my faith, because my faith is founded on God.

“On the other hand, if I keep my distance from God, if I forget him, if I keep him outside my life and am submerged in merely human and material things, if I let myself be carried away by what is immediately in front of me and God fades from my soul, then how will I have a living faith? If I don’t speak with Christ, what is there left of my faith?

“That is why, in the final analysis, all obstacles to a life of faith may be reduced—in their root—to a withdrawal, a separation from God, when we cease to deal with him face to face” (Pedro Rodriguez, Faith and Life of Faith).

Then it is that temptations and obstacles gain strength. Peter would have remained firm on the waters and would have reached Our Lord if he had not separated his confident gaze from Him.

All the tempests put together, those within the soul and those arising from outside, cannot shake us as long as we have firm recourse to prayer. To abandon prayer, to pray with little intimacy or sincerity, exposes us to sink into discouragement, pessimism, and temptation.

Our faith should never falter even when the difficulties are enormous, even though they seem to crush us under their weight.

We’re told in The Way, “What does it matter if the whole world with all its power is against you? You…go forward. Repeat the words of the psalm: ‘The Lord is my light and my salvation. Whom shall I fear? Though my enemies surround me, my heart shall not waver’” (Ps. 27:1,3). Si consistant adversum me castra, non timebit cor meum (J. Escrivá, The Way, Point 480).

We’re told that Peter got out of the boat and walked on the water to come to Jesus. But seeing the wind was strong, he was afraid, and as he began to sink he cried out, “Lord, save me!”

Jesus at once stretched forth His hand and took hold of him, saying, “O you of little faith, why did you doubt?” (Matt. 14:30–31).

Our Lord didn’t wait for Peter to disappear under the water. We’re told He “immediately stretched forth his hand, at once. … And when they got into the boat, the wind fell” (Matt. 14:31,32).

In the midst of dangers, obstacles, and doubts, we should look to Christ. We should run with patience to the fight set before us, “looking forward towards the author and perfecter of faith, he who is Jesus,” we read in the Epistle to the Hebrews (Heb. 12:1–2).

Christ should be a clear, sharply defined figure for us. We have contemplated Him so many times that we can’t confuse Him with a ghost, as the disciples did that night. His features, His voice, His gaze are unmistakable. He has looked at us so many times.

He is the beginning and the culmination of Christian life. St. Thomas says, “If you want to be saved, look upon the face of your Christ” (Thomas Aquinas, Commentary on the Epistle to the Hebrews).

Dealing with Him habitually, in prayer and through the sacraments, is the only guarantee of staying on our feet, as children of God, in the middle of the rough seas in which we live.

What’s more, together with Christ, the conflicts and labors we confront almost daily strengthen our faith and hope, and unite us more closely to Him.

St. John Chrysostom says the same occurs to “the trees that grow in shady sheltered places: while externally they appear to thrive, they are feeble and easily hurt. However, the trees that grow on the pinnacles of the tallest mountains, buffeted by many winds, constantly exposed to harsh conditions, beaten by fierce storms and covered by snow, these grow as strong as iron” (John Chrysostom, Homily on Glory in Tribulations).

Peter stopped looking at Christ and he sank. But he knew enough to return immediately to Him to whom all is submitted. “Lord, save me!” he cried with all his strength when he felt that all was lost. And Jesus, with infinite affection, stretched out His hand and pulled him up.

If we see that we are sinking, that temptations and difficulties are overwhelming us, we need to go to Jesus. He always stretches out His hand to us, for us to hold on tight. He will never let us sink if we do the little required of us.

God has placed our guardian angel next to us to help us in all adversity and to serve as a powerful aid on our road to heaven. We can deal with him confidently. We can ask him for His help in small things and great things, and we will find the fortitude that we need for victory.

We can turn to Our Lady and ask her: Mary, may you help me to see what Our Lord wants me to see today. Help me to see what He wants me to do. Help me to answer His call with generosity.

I thank you, my God, for the good resolutions, affections, and inspirations that you have communicated to me during this meditation. I ask your help to put them into practice. My Immaculate Mother, Saint Joseph, my father and lord, my guardian angel, intercede for me.

In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.