At first glance, the Gospel passage appointed for this Sunday appears to be about two unrelated events during the earthly ministry of our Lord Jesus Christ: the healing of two blind men, and the casting out of a demon from a dumb man. Yet the Church in Her wisdom has joined these two events together in order to draw out a deeper meaning hidden beneath the surface of today’s Gospel reading.
Both of these miracles are, of course, powerful manifestations of the presence of God and His grace. Although we ourselves have perhaps heard these stories so many times that they now seem almost prosaic, we would do well to stir up within ourselves the wonder of the multitudes who first witnessed these astonishing events, and who “marveled, saying, It was never so seen in Israel” (Matt. 9:33).
But perhaps we have the opposite difficulty: not taking the miracles of God for granted, but rather wondering why we do not seem to witness such miracles ourselves. Indeed, many Christians today are tempted by the thought: “Why does God these days so often seem to be silent? Why does He not speak, why does He not reveal Himself with miracles, signs, and wonders, as He did in the times of the Holy Scriptures, as He did in the lives of the saints? If only I could see such signs for myself, if only I could hear Him speak to me directly and openly, then I could really believe, then my faith could really come to life.” Such a thought can at times be very convincing. And it is especially seductive because it allows us to secretly believe that it is God — rather than we ourselves — who is to blame for the weakness of our faith.
But of course, this thought is really nonsense. It is nonsense that has been hammered into our heads all our lives: that truth is fundamentally something that we see with our eyes, something that can be measured and tested and proved. We have been taught to believe that belief without evidence is merely wishful thinking, a crutch of cowardly and ignorant men. Yet we see in today’s Gospel passage that evidence, in the final analysis, really has very little to do with it. The two blind men had no evidence and no proof — at best, all they had was hearsay. They had never seen a single miracle performed by Christ – indeed, not only had they never even seen Christ at all, but they were physically incapable of seeing Him to begin with! And, my dear brothers and sisters, we must understand that all of us are in truth just like these blind men. We do not possess the faculties to prove the truth to ourselves; only faith can allow us to see. We must always remember that the blind men’s eyes were opened because they believed; they did not believe because their eyes were opened. It was their faith that opened them to the evidence, not the evidence that opened them to faith.
This lesson is taught to us even more powerfully by the second event in today’s Gospel passage. A man dumb and possessed by a devil was brought to Christ, Who cast out the devil and opened the mouth of the man who had been mute. The multitudes marveled at this — but the Pharisees accused Christ of “[casting] out devils through the prince of the devils” (Matt. 9:34). The simple and unlearned multitudes glorified God, but those who styled themselves as wise and pious spewed out foolish and blasphemous drivel. Let us take heed to this: both were shown precisely the same evidence, both were witnesses to exactly the same event — and yet their actions revealed that they were living in two completely different worlds: the first in the world of God, and the second in the world of the devil.
Clearly, the evidence alone was not enough to determine how each one believed: both “theories” alike were able to give an account of the event which had just transpired before their very eyes. So what ultimately separated the believing multitudes from the stony-hearted Pharisees? What led some to see a glorious miracle, and others to dismiss it with the vilest of blasphemies? If the difference was not in the objective evidence, then the difference must rather have been hidden somewhere within each person’s heart.
I heard a story once, about a Protestant minister who came to another clergyman and told him that he was having a crisis of faith. This friend tried to help him, to reason with him, to give an answer to his spiritual doubts and perplexities. But shortly thereafter, he found out from the minister’s wife that the minister was having an affair with another woman. At that moment he realized that all his words to the minister had been totally in vain. The man’s crisis of faith was not rooted in theology; it was rooted in his unrepented sin.
The Holy Fathers teach us that a heart darkened by sin and blinded by passion is simply incapable of really seeing the truth. The Lord Himself says the same: “Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God.” And this is precisely why the evangelical commandments — and all the strictures of the ascetic life — are not arbitrary demands being made upon us. They are not artificial actions designed merely to somehow prove our love for God. No, the plain truth is that they are the medicines by which Christ acts to cure our illnesses. They are manifestations of the healing power of God that alone can give us spiritual sight. They cast out the demons who blind our eyes and bind our tongues. Quite simply, they allow us to behold the Lord Jesus Christ. As St. Isaac the Syrian says: “The commandments of God are greater than all the treasures of the world. And he who acquires the commandments finds God in them.”
And so if we do not choose to obey the commandments of Christ, if we do not choose to put our faith in Him regardless of whether we can see Him or not, then we wait in vain for evidence, and we likewise long for miracles in vain. The miracles have always been all around us. The only question is whether we are willing to open our eyes in faith, and see.
Let us emulate the blind men, and call out to the Lord for mercy. Let us imitate the multitudes, and give praise to God from hearts filled with gratitude and love. But if our hearts are hardened, and the eyes of our mind are darkened by doubt, then let us simply and immediately cry out with tears like the man in the Gospel: “Lord, I believe; help my unbelief!” (Mark 9:24). And there is absolutely no doubt that the Lord will hearken unto our cry.
Very insightful as always, Father!