Thursday Fourth Week of Lent
-
1 Sam. 16:1, 6-7, 10-13, Psalm 23:1-6, Eph. 5:8-14, John 9:1-41
I love the dramatic gospel story of Jesus’ healing encounter with the man born blind. What’s most remarkable to me is the contrast between the simple faith of the newly sighted man’s, “I do believe, Lord” and the Pharisees’ lack ofhumility. As devout scholars of the Law, the Pharisees are the proverbial book throwers. In their desire to do things in the ‘right’ way, they are blind not only to the wonder of the miracle, but to the Lord himself. Questioning everyone, and listening to no one, they complicate the situation. It is easy to judge them, but I complicate things, too. For example, when I began homeschooling, I attended a book fair and loaded up my arms with more titles than an average person needs, thinking, “I’ve got this homeschool thing!” As I struggled through the door, an older woman stopped, looked at me, and said, “Keep it simple.” Her advice proved to be true, not only in our homeschool, but also in life.
When I came home to Catholicism in 2019, I embraced the many beautiful aspects of our Church. From sacraments and saints, to sacramentals and novenas, I felt bolstered and accompanied in my faith. I ordered books, rosaries, prayer cards, and more books. (I’ll be the best Catholic ever!) Feeling a deeper call to prayer, I frequented the Adoration Chapel. At first, the prayers flowed easily. Over time, distractions crept in, and my prayers were of the “Hail Mary full of grace, what will I make for dinner” variety. I added more resources to the pile but, it soon became clear that I was experiencing spiritual dryness. I knew this was normal in the spiritual life, but I felt discouraged, like I don’t know how to pray!
One day, a mother and her very young daughter entered the chapel. Too small to have a good view of the Blessed Sacrament, they tiny girl knelt in front of the altar. Sitting on her heels, head cocked to one side, she tenderly regarded the Divine Mercy of Jesus image taped to the front of the prayer request box. She rummaged in her pocket and produced an object. Holding it out in her tiny palm, she earnestly told Jesus about it, nodding and gesturing. From where I sat, it resembled a broken piece of sidewalk chalk. An unlikely offering in the world’s eyes, it was her treasure. The simple goodness of this scene almost overwhelmed me. I realized that my pride had begun to blind me to wonder, and to a simple faith. I had forgotten how to say, “I do believe, Lord.” In that holy moment, I learned how to pray.
It is easy to believe the lie that we must find our own way, and to make it look good, whether it is in our faith practice, vocation, or outward appearance. But our Sunday readings remind us that Jesus, our Good Shepherd, shows us the true way (Psalm 23:3), we belong to him as children of light (Eph. 5:8), and the Lord looks at our hearts, not our appearance (1 Sam. 16:7).
Choosing humility over self-reliance is going to be a lifelong lesson for me. I still struggle with distraction in prayer; when I do, I return to childlike wonder, which always leads to gratitude. Do you feel burdened to get things ‘right’ in prayer, or in general? The Light of the world sees us and loves us right where we are, as we are. This Lent, as we partake in the gifts of our Church, may we humbly approach the Lord and offer him ourselves and our little bits of chalk. May we have the grace to keep it simple.
Kate Ferguson, a native West Texan, is married to Charles. They have three great kids. She is blessed to co-teach Religious Education at Holy Family, and still takes a stack of books to the Adoration Chapel - just in case.
