27 August 2018
Memorial of St. Monica
Yesterday we saw the contrast between hearing and listening, and the importance of receiving the Word we hear into our hearts and minds. Today Jesus speaks to us of the blind.
“Woe to you, blind guides, who say, ‘If one swears by temple, it means nothing, but if one swears by the gold of the temple, one is obligated.’ Blind fools, which is greater, the gold, or the temple that made the gold sacred?”
It is so easy in this life to have our eyes distracted by what glitters, by what looks important, and we overlook that which is truly important. We are naturally drawn to things that are beautiful and attractive; we are, after all, created by and for the Highest Beauty of all. Our attraction to beauty, to goodness, is meant to draw us to God, to give us a hunger, and “eye” for Him. Yet we so often settle for far lesser goods.
In our Gospel, the scribes and Pharisees have held the gold of the Temple—its treasury, its lamps, and so on—as more sacred than the Temple itself. They have, blindly, committed idolatry, and led others straight into it. They believe the gift on the altar is greater than the altar itself: they have lost sight of God, focusing on their own achievements, forsaking the gifts of God.
St. Monica, married to an unbeliever, never lost sight of God, of what was truly valuable, truly beautiful. She saw the spark of this beauty in her wayward son, Augustine, and never ceased praying for his eyes to be opened. It was the fruit of her prayer—she, a guide with eyes open to the Truth—that led her son to one day utter this:
“Late have I loved you, O Beauty ever ancient, ever new, late have I loved you! You were within me, but I was outside, and it was there that I searched for you. In my unloveliness I plunged into the lovely things which you created. You were with me, but I was not with you. Created things kept me from you; yet if they had not been in you they would have not been at all. You called, you shouted, and you broke through my deafness. You flashed, you shone, and you dispelled my blindness. You breathed your fragrance on me; I drew in breath and now I pant for you. I have tasted you, now I hunger and thirst for more. You touched me, and I burned for your peace.”
What things of this world distract us from keeping our eyes on Jesus? To what do we lower our eyes, instead of raising them to the Lord? May St. Monica pray for us, that we may follow her example of steadfast faith and clear perspective, that our own blindness—or the blindness of those who lead us—may never cause us to stumble.