Metropolitan Anthony of Sourozh
In the Name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Ghost.
We heard today the story of the man born blind. We do not know from
experience what physical blindness is, but we can imagine how this
man was walled in himself, how all the world around him existed only
as a distant sound, something he could not picture, imagine. He was
a prisoner within his own body. He could live by imaginations, he
could invent a world around himself, he could by touch and by
hearing approximate what really was around him; but the total, full
reality could only escape him.
We are not physically blind, but how many of us are locked in
themselves! Who of us can say that he is so open that he can
perceive all the world in its width, but also in its depth? We meet
people, and we see them with our eyes; but seldom it happens that
beyond the outer shape, features, clothes, - how often does it
happen that we see something of the depth of the person? How seldom
it is that we look into a person's eyes and go deep in understanding!
We are surrounded by people and every person is unique to God, but
are people unique to us? Are not people that surround us just ‘people’,
who have names, surnames, nicknames, whom we can recognise by their
outer looks but whom we do not know at any depth?
This is our condition: we are blind, we are deaf, we are insensitive
to the outer world, and yet, we are called to read meanings. When we
meet a person, we should approach this person as a mystery, that is
as something which we can discover only by a deep communion, by
entering into a relationship, perhaps silent, perhaps in words, but
so deep that we can know one another not quite as God knows us, but
in the light of God that enlightens all and each of us.
And more than this: we can do, each within his own power, within his
own gifts, what Christ did: He opened the eyes of this man. What did
this man see? The first thing he saw was the face of the Incarnate
Son of God, in other words, he saw love incarnate. When his eyes met
the eyes of Christ, he met God’s compassion, God’s tenderness, God’s
earnest concern and understanding. In the same way could so many
people begin to see, if by meeting us they meet people in whose eyes,
on whose face they could see the shining of earnest, sober love, of
a love that is not sentimental but is seeing, a love that can see
and understand. And then, how much could we be to people around us a
revelation of all the meanings that this world holds and contains
through art, through beauty, through science, through all the means
by which beauty is perceived and proclaimed among human beings.
But are we doing this? Is our concern to convey the width, and the
depth, the beauty and the meaning of things to every person whom we
meet? Are we not rather concerned with receiving than with giving?
And yet, Saint Paul who knew what it meant to receive and to give,
said, ‘It is a more blessed thing to give than to receive’. And yet
how much had he received! He had received the knowledge of God in
his own experience; he had received teaching, and knowledge, and
experience within the Old Testament, and then Christ revealed
Himself to him: what did he not receive! And yet, he exulted more in
giving than in receiving, because he did not want to be the owner of
all the richness that had come his way; he wanted to share it, to
give it, to set aglow and afire other lives than his own.
Let us reflect on how rich, how richly endowed we are, how much it
was given us to see, and to hear. And let us realise at the same
time how tragically walled we are within ourselves unless we break
this wall in order to give, as generously, as richly, as abundantly
as we were given. And then indeed, our joy will be fulfilled
according to Christ’s promise. And no one, nothing will ever be able
to take it away from us. Amen! |