https://app.dropwave.io/episode/788c6e05-5dfa-44b8-998f-792b9e8ba947/quinquagesima-ad-2026.mp3

++ JESU JUVA ++

In the Name of the Father and of the + Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

When you have nothing, you’re invisible to the world. You’re invisible to them because they don’t want to see that you have a real need. For if they were to acknowledge your need, they would have to admit that such needs are not imaginary. If your need is real, then, perhaps, I may find myself in need one day — and I don’t want to admit that possibility. If your need is real, then your need becomes a demand for my love — and I don’t want to give it. So life goes better when I don’t acknowledge my neighbor’s needs. Then I can focus only on my own. I don’t have to serve you or help you. Or love you. Then my life can be about me.

But if you are a beggar, you are like poor Lazarus who is laid at the rich man’s gate (Luke 16:19-31). You long to be fed with what falls from the table at his daily sumptuous feasts. But no one will give you anything (Luke 15:16). So if you are truly in need, then you and your needs are invisible to the world. Whether the world notices you and your need or not, you’re still in need. And when you’re desperate, you take help from wherever you can get it. When you have nothing, you have nothing to lose. That’s when behavior can become risky. Wisdom and consideration of long-term consequences are set aside in favor of meeting the immediate need. When you’re desperate, risk looks more like a lifeline. Payday loans, pyramid schemes, and off-the-books work start to sound inviting.

The blind beggar on the side of the road — he has nothing to lose. He doesn’t need to keep up appearances. He doesn’t need to pretend to be something he’s not. (And if he were to pretend, he’d only make it harder to get the help he so desperately needs.) He doesn’t need respect or honor. He needs sight. Sitting by the side of the road, he hears the commotion of a crowd. What’s going on? he asks. So they told him that Jesus of Nazareth was passing by. (Luke 18:37). Jesus of Nazareth? He’s the Savior — the Messiah promised in the Old Testament. He can heal the blind beggar! And he cried out, saying, “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!” (Luke 18:38).

Can the Lord hear the beggar’s cry for mercy? Can he see the one in need among the throngs of so many? Does He care? Why should Jesus have mercy on him? Why should God pay attention? Why should the King interrupt His procession?

What about you? Should the King stop for you? You easily get angry over minor things and record every perceived act of injustice. You covet power and influence. You find illicit pleasure in what God has not given. You satisfy yourself instead of seeking to help your neighbor. So why should Jesus stop? Surely you aren’t the only one in this crowd today who is in need. What gives you the right to ask for mercy? … for healing? … for a miracle?

The blind beggar was bold. He had heard the good news about Jesus — that Jesus had the power to heal. And that He was gracious and kind and would not turn away from those who sought His help. He was bold because he saw how great his need, and how great Jesus’ mercy. He probably wasn’t the only one in the crowd in need, but he was the only one to ask! It’s an act of desperation to scream out to Jesus for help and to interrupt Him on His way to His throne.

To a beggar, the promise of food or clothing being given out is comforting and hopeful. To the poor in spirit, the Kingdom of God is an unsurpassed treasure. So desperate people can see Jesus. But the more someone thinks he is not in need, the harder it is to see Jesus. By faith, the beggar sees Jesus. He believes that Jesus has come to help the helpless — so he believes that Jesus will make time for him. His need is so desperate that he doesn’t care about saving face in public. Whatever dignity he has left he will throw away. SON OF DAVID, HAVE MERCY ON ME! (Luke 18:39). Because he knows his real need is not dignity or respect or popularity. He needs sight. He needs Jesus. And he will suffer anything to get what he needs. Any cost. Any burden. Any shame.

The beggar sees his situation rightly. He humbles himself before God and prays for mercy. He prays the prayer that Jesus will never, never deny! Jesus cannot resist this cry, because He is God’s mercy in the flesh. So Jesus stopped and summoned the man. With open-ended invitation, He calls the poor man to become rich: What do you want me to do for you? (Luke 18:40). And then, Receive your sight. Your faith has saved you (Luke 18:42).

This scene plays out for us every Sunday. We come before God as beggars, crying for mercy. In this way, the whole liturgy is the whole congregation carrying one another to Jesus. Not just have mercy upon me, but us! We pray the Our Father as the communal prayer. This kind of Divine Service only makes sense to the desperate. To anyone else, what we do on Sunday morning looks about as foolish as a blind beggar screaming out to a King on the way to His throne. Only those who know and feel their need will find any comfort here.

So in the first part of the Gospel reading, when Jesus speaks of the healing He’s going to bring by His suffering and death, the disciples don’t get it. Jesus says He’s going to bring healing to the sick, to bind up the brokenhearted, to have mercy upon the desperate. But they cannot understand because the death of Jesus only makes sense to the desperate. The Twelve disciples weren’t desperate. They did not see their need. Intellectually, they could comprehend every word that Jesus spoke. The Old Testament writings about the Messiah are clear. Jesus would be handed over to the Gentiles, mocked; insulted; whipped; spit upon; and killed.

For those who are content with their life, the words of Jesus predicting His suffering and death make no sense. When Jesus tells us that all the Scriptures culminate in His death, we stare blankly at Him. We think not that His death could not happen, but that it would not.

Our will and our memory are closely related. If we really want to remember something, we’ll remember it. Just ask the kid who knows how many days until his next birthday. Ask our students how many days until spring break.

Our will and our understanding are also related. If there’s something we don’t want to understand, we won’t understand it. If my understanding something depends on admitting that I was wrong, I will be very slow to understand.

To the disciples, this kind of suffering was unthinkable. But Jesus has spoken these words. We must think about them. His words are clear and full of meaning, but the disciples do not understand. Yet as the disciples remain in utter confusion, Jesus heals a blind man. The poor man, having been healed — having been granted sight, both physically and spiritually — he now follows Jesus and joins in the procession that heads toward Jerusalem.

Jesus, also, wants to render that same service to you who suffer from spiritual blindness and impaired vision: He wishes this day to take hold of your hand and lead you into His Passion. Through His Word, He takes hold of you and leads you. In this way, He will present unto you yet again His suffering and death. So permit yourself to be led. Do not insist on fighting off His hand. Do not seek to keep your distance from His cross and pain. Let us also go [with Him] that we may die with Him (John 11:16).

Most all of you learned from childhood that Jesus suffered and died for sinners. But if we do not continually meditate upon these words — ‘suffered, crucified, died, buried’ — then these words will lose their meaning for us. If we do not give these words our attention, they will become either common and boring — said without thinking; or they will become utterly foreign, having no meaning whatsoever. So we need to be healed. Our attention must be healed so that we meditate upon the right things.

St. Paul says we walk by faith, not by sight. Faith comes not by sight, but by hearing. As it was for the disciples, so it is for us. The disciples don’t fully see until the end of Luke’s gospel — chapter 24. Two disciples walk with the resurrected Jesus, but their eyes are kept from recognizing Him. Again, Jesus speaks just as clearly then as now. He preaches Moses and the Prophets to them, interpreting the Old Testament and thereby telling all things concerning Himself. He declares that all the things written by the prophets must be fulfilled in Himself.