Let’s begin with the scripture readings. The Psalm directs us to pray to experience at least four things: to “dwell in the house of the Lord,” to “gaze on (his) loveliness,” to “see” his “bounty,” and to make Him our “Refuge.” Like the first reading, the Psalm tells us to do all this with courage and stoutheartedness. St. Nicholas’s own life was marked with such courage. His own life was full of trials. He survived prison and torture. Of course, he did so thanks to making the Lord his “Refuge” during these times and moments. Scripture and the lives of the saints tell us that when we make the Lord our refuge, we sustains us. The greatest example of this is in the martyrdom of St. Stephen as described by Luke. Shortly before he is killed, St. Stephen sees “the heavens open and the Son of Man standing at the right hand of God” (Luke 7:55, 56). Why is Jesus standing here when he is described elsewhere as “sitting at the right hand of God”? It is because, out of politeness, he stood up to welcome St. Stephen into the divine presence, inviting, as it were, Stephen to come to God’s table. Everything the Psalm asks us to pray for is encountered in this scene. Stephen, by making the Lord his refuge, comes to “dwell in the house of the Lord”; the entry is marked by Stephen’s gazing on “the loveliness” of the Lord and receiving of his bounty.
In the Gospel, Jesus issues three mighty challenges to the two blind men he is about to heal. First, when they ask for healing, he asks them: “do you believe that I can do this?” Next, after they say “Yes,” he states, “Let it be done for you according to your faith.” Finally, after healing them, he sternly charges them to keep the healing secret. They disregard the command and spread news of their healing far and wide. Let’s apply these challenges to ourselves. If we ask the Lord for healing, would we believe that He can do this? And how much would be healed if the healing was done to us according to our faith? If I were in their shoes, I would fear that I might not get healed at all. I would therefore be gob-smacked to experience the bounty of total healing. I would laugh at his humor in disregarding my doubts and healing me nonetheless. My joy would be so boundless and irrepressible that I would certainly disregard his command to keep it secret, and I would go and tell everyone about it. He would probably laugh and rejoice with me in doing so.
What would you do if you were in their shoes? If you need healing, would you fear that if it were done according to your faith, it might be very small? Were you healed completely, would you d keep it secret?
