After America, There Is No Place To Go

The following is a talk delivered in 2012 by Kitty Werthmann, who as a child experienced the transformation of her native Austria by Adolph Hitler and his National Socialists, aka, Nazis. 

Her story has been around awhile, but I suspect it's new to many Americans, especially younger Americans. Kitty has been repeatedly attacked by the American left, accusing her of being allied with -- Oh, my gosh -- the late, great conservative, Phyllis Schlafly, one of my heroines. They have tried to undermine her story because the Austria Kitty describes sounds very much like the country the United States would become if the far left ever gained political power. Keep in mind, there's really little difference between fascism and communism when you are on the receiving end of their policies of power and control. 

I have known a couple of Austrians who as children also experienced the transformation of their country by Hitler and his National Socialists. Although they're both gone now, each would have echoed Kitty's powerful witness. And if you take the time to read the actual history of the Nazi Anschluss or annexation of Austria, you will find that Kitty's story mirrors the truth. 

If you remember the plot of the Sound of Music, the Von Trapp family escaped over the Alps rather than submit to the Nazis. Kitty wasn’t so lucky. Her family chose to stay in her native Austria. She was 10 years old, but bright and aware. And she was watching.

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“I cannot tell you that Hitler took Austria by tanks and guns; it would distort history.

“We elected him by a landslide – 98 percent of the vote,” she recalls.

She wasn’t old enough to vote in 1938 – approaching her 11th birthday. But she remembers.

“Everyone thinks that Hitler just rolled in with his tanks and took Austria by force.”

No so. Hitler was welcomed by Austria

“In 1938, Austria was in deep depression. Nearly one-third of our workforce was unemployed. We had 25 percent inflation and 25 percent bank loan interest rates.

"Farmers and business people were declaring bankruptcy daily. Young people were going from house to house begging for food. Not that they didn’t want to work; there simply weren’t any jobs.

“My mother was a Christian woman and believed in helping people in need. Every day we cooked a big kettle of soup and baked bread to feed those poor, hungry people – about 30 daily.’

“We looked to our neighbor on the north, Germany, where Hitler had been in power since 1933.” she recalls. “We had been told that they didn’t have unemployment or crime, and they had a high standard of living.

“Nothing was ever said about persecution of any group – Jewish or otherwise. We were led to believe that everyone in Germany was happy. We wanted the same way of life in Austria. We were promised that a vote for Hitler would mean the end of unemployment and help for the family. Hitler also said that businesses would be assisted, and farmers would get their farms back.

“Ninety-eight percent of the population voted to annex Austria to Germany and have Hitler for our ruler.

“We were overjoyed,” remembers Kitty, “and for three days we danced in the streets and had candlelight parades. The new government opened up big field kitchens and everyone was fed.

“After the election, German officials were appointed, and, like a miracle, we suddenly had law and order. Three or four weeks later, everyone was employed. The government made sure that a lot of work was created through the Public Work Service.

“Hitler decided we should have equal rights for women. Before this, it was a custom that married Austrian women did not work outside the home. An able-bodied husband would be looked down on if he couldn’t support his family. Many women in the teaching profession were elated that they could retain the jobs they previously had been required to give up for marriage.

“Then we lost religious education for kids.

“Our education was nationalized. I attended a very good public school.. The population was predominantly Catholic, so we had religion in our schools. The day we elected Hitler (March 13, 1938), I walked into my schoolroom to find the crucifix replaced by Hitler’s picture hanging next to a Nazi flag. Our teacher, a very devout woman, stood up and told the class we wouldn’t pray or have religion anymore. Instead, we sang ‘Deutschland, Deutschland, Uber Alles,’ and had physical education.

“Sunday became National Youth Day with compulsory attendance. Parents were not pleased about the sudden change in curriculum. They were told that if they did not send us, they would receive a stiff letter of warning the first time. The second time they would be fined the equivalent of $300, and the third time they would be subject to jail.”

And then things got worse.

"Every Sunday the first two hours consisted of political indoctrination. The rest of the day we had sports. As time went along, we loved it. Oh, we had so much fun and got our sports equipment free.

“We would go home and gleefully tell our parents about the wonderful time we had.

“My mother was very unhappy,” remembers Kitty. “When the next term started, she took me out of public school and put me in a convent. I told her she couldn’t do that and she told me that someday when I grew up, I would be grateful. There was a very good curriculum, but hardly any fun – no sports, and no political indoctrination.

“I hated it at first but felt I could tolerate it. Every once in a while, on holidays, I went home. I would go back to my old friends and ask what was going on and what they were doing.

“Their loose lifestyle was very alarming to me. They lived without religion. By that time, unwed mothers were glorified for having a baby for Hitler.

“It seemed strange to me that our society changed so suddenly. As time went along, I realized what a great deed my mother did so that I wasn’t exposed to that kind of humanistic philosophy.

“In 1939, the war started, and a food bank was established. All food was rationed and could only be purchased using food stamps. At the same time, a full-employment law was passed which meant if you didn’t work, you didn’t get a ration card, and, if you didn’t have a card, you starved to death.

“Women who stayed home to raise their families didn’t have any marketable skills and often had to take jobs more suited for men.

“Soon after this, the draft was implemented.

“It was compulsory for young people, male and female, to give one year to the labor corps,” remembers Kitty. “During the day, the girls worked on the farms, and at night they returned to their barracks for military training just like the boys.

“They were trained to be anti-aircraft gunners and participated in the signal corps. After the labor corps, they were not discharged but were used in the front lines.

“When I go back to Austria to visit my family and friends, most of these women are emotional cripples because they just were not equipped to handle the horrors of combat.

“Three months before I turned 18, I was severely injured in an air raid attack. I nearly had a leg amputated, so I was spared having to go into the labor corps and into military service.

“When the mothers had to go out into the work force, the government immediately established child care centers.

“You could take your children ages four weeks old to school age and leave them there around-the-clock, seven days a week, under the total care of the government.

“The state raised a whole generation of children. There were no motherly women to take care of the children, just people highly trained in child psychology. By this time, no one talked about equal rights. We knew we had been had.

“Before Hitler, we had very good medical care. Many American doctors trained at the University of Vienna..

“After Hitler, health care was socialized, free for everyone. Doctors were salaried by the government. The problem was, since it was free, the people were going to the doctors for everything.

“When the good doctor arrived at his office at 8 a.m., 40 people were already waiting and, at the same time, the hospitals were full.

“If you needed elective surgery, you had to wait a year or two for your turn. There was no money for research as it was poured into socialized medicine. Research at the medical schools literally stopped, so the best doctors left Austria and emigrated to other countries.

“As for healthcare, our tax rates went up to 80 percent of our income. Newlyweds immediately received a $1,000 loan from the government to establish a household. We had big programs for families.

“All day care and education were free. High schools were taken over by the government and college tuition was subsidized. Everyone was entitled to free handouts, such as food stamps, clothing, and housing.

“We had another agency designed to monitor business. My brother-in-law owned a restaurant that had square tables.

“Government officials told him he had to replace them with round tables because people might bump themselves on the corners. Then they said he had to have additional bathroom facilities. It was just a small dairy business with a snack bar. He couldn’t meet all the demands.

“Soon, he went out of business. If the government owned the large businesses and not many small ones existed, it could be in control.

“We had consumer protection, too

“We were told how to shop and what to buy. Free enterprise was essentially abolished. We had a planning agency specially designed for farmers. The agents would go to the farms, count the livestock, and then tell the farmers what to produce, and how to produce it.

“In 1944, I was a student teacher in a small village in the Alps. The villagers were surrounded by mountain passes which, in the winter, were closed off with snow, causing people to be isolated.

“So people intermarried and offspring were sometimes retarded. When I arrived, I was told there were 15 mentally retarded adults, but they were all useful and did good manual work.

“I knew one, named Vincent, very well. He was a janitor of the school. One day I looked out the window and saw Vincent and others getting into a van.

“I asked my superior where they were going. She said to an institution where the State Health Department would teach them a trade, and to read and write. The families were required to sign papers with a little clause that they could not visit for 6 months.

“They were told visits would interfere with the program and might cause homesickness.

“As time passed, letters started to dribble back saying these people died a natural, merciful death. The villagers were not fooled. We suspected what was happening. Those people left in excellent physical health and all died within 6 months. We called this euthanasia.

“Next came gun registration. People were getting injured by guns. Hitler said that the real way to catch criminals (we still had a few) was by matching serial numbers on guns. Most citizens were law-abiding and dutifully marched to the police station to register their firearms. Not long afterwards, the police said that it was best for everyone to turn in their guns. The authorities already knew who had them, so it was futile not to comply voluntarily.

“No more freedom of speech. Anyone who said something against the government was taken away. We knew many people who were arrested, not only Jews, but also priests and ministers who spoke up.

“Totalitarianism didn’t come quickly, it took 5 years from 1938 until 1943, to realize full dictatorship in Austria. Had it happened overnight, my countrymen would have fought to the last breath. Instead, we had creeping gradualism. Now, our only weapons were broom handles. The whole idea sounds almost unbelievable that the state, little by little eroded our freedom.”

“This is my eyewitness account.

“It’s true. Those of us who sailed past the Statue of Liberty came to a country of unbelievable freedom and opportunity.

“America is truly is the greatest country in the world. “Don’t let freedom slip away.

“After America, there is no place to go.”

Kitty Werthmann

Sagrada Familia Can Be Built!!

I really have several reasons for writing this post. The first resulted from an article I recently came across. It contained some astonishing news. Apparently, in June of 2019 the city of Barcelona finally approved the construction of the Basilica de la Sagrada Familia. 

If you've experienced delays and problems getting governmental approval for construction or other purposes, just thank God you don't live in Barcelona. I suspect that city may well have set a world record. You see, the original construction request for Sagrada Familia was submitted in 1885, only 134 years ago before it was finally approved. I would guess, although I can't be certain about this, the architect, Antonio Gaudi, the local bishop, and the Sagrada Familia Foundation just assumed approval was pending and went ahead with the construction anyway. Why the city took so long, nobody is saying. But one thing is certain: the foundation, even though it's a not-for-profit organization, had to fork over 4.5 million Euros to get the construction license. Considering the basilica is perhaps the city's most popular tourist attraction, that seems a bit excessive to me...but, hey, what do I know? I'm not a European.

If you've ever been to Barcelona, I would hope you visited Sagrada Familia, this remarkable, yet still unfinished, church conceived by the great architect, Antonio Gaudi (1852-1926). If you've been to Barcelona and didn't visit the basilica, I suggest you return to the city as soon as possible. Sagrada Familia is well worth another trip.

Sagrada Familia (Nov 2010)

Ten years ago Diane and I spent about a week in Barcelona, a trip that included a full day at Sagrada Familia. Of course I had heard of the basilica and seen many pictures of it, but encountering this magnificent church up close and personal took my breath away. Quite honestly, as someone who appreciates the gothic, I didn't expect to like Gaudi's decidedly different architecture... until I was surrounded by it. To say I was overwhelmed would be an understatement. I remember Diane saying, "I've never been anywhere more beautiful." We both came away converted, convinced that Gaudi was a true genius. It's also apparent why he was called, "God's Architect." 

Here are a few of the many photos I took back in 2010.

The Four Evangelists High Above

Sagrada Familia Interior

Light and Reflections

An Exterior Façade: The Nativity 

Antonio Gaudi

Interestingly, the basilica is still unfinished. Its construction is ongoing and the current team of architects plans to complete the work six years from now in 2026. Sadly, Antonio Gaudi died in 1926 after being hit by a Barcelona streetcar. The architects, then, hope to complete construction on the 100th anniversary of Gaudi's death. That will certainly be quite a day for Barcelona and for all of Spain, assuming that Catalonia is still a part of Spain in 2026 -- but that's a whole other story. Fittingly, Gaudi, a devout Catholic who lived a life of ascetic poverty, was buried in the basilica's crypt. His cause for sainthood is ongoing. I include him in my intercessory prayers. 

Another landmark day in the life of the basilica was its dedication by Pope Benedict XVI on November 7, 2010, just 128 years after construction actually began in 1882. This day was particularly interesting for Diane and me, and our friends, Deacon Walter and his wife Ellen, because we happened to be in Barcelona at the time. Although we didn't have tickets for the basilica's dedication, we managed to see the pope as he passed by quickly in his pope-mobile. The photo's not very good, but he was moving fast and the crowd was a bit pushy.

Pope Benedict XVI on his way to Sagrada Familia

We are fortunate Sagrada Familia still stands since it was burned by Catalan anarchists and communists in the 1930s during the Spanish Civil War. Seeing the same kind of activity by anarchists, communists, and others in our country today, we pray that our churches suffer no more damage than they already have.

Bumper Stickers and Other Signs

I've always enjoyed reading bumper stickers. I suppose the messages people attach to their back bumpers must be pretty important to them. Some messages are very clever, some generate a laugh or two, some are serious, some odd, and others are rather foolish. But every one tells you something about the person driving the car.

Here in The Villages, most folks fall on the conservative side of the political spectrum and so one sees a lot of "Trump 2020" bumper stickers on cars and golf carts. And although I've seen a few anti-Trump stickers, I've yet to see one with a "Biden 2020" message, at least not here in The Villages. I'm sure there are some, but I sure haven't seen one. This tells me that although some folks might not be too happy with our current president, they seem to have little enthusiasm for his opponent. 

Many of our local churches give their members bumper stickers or license plate frames advertising their church. I like to see them because it indicates the importance folks place on their religious faith and their willingness to tell the world.

Every so often I see one of those "Coexist" bumper stickers with letters made up of various religious and other symbols. They've been around a while so I'm sure you've seen them. 

It's a message of "toleration" -- the kind that tries to tell us one religion's as good as another. I suppose it expresses a form of syncretism that strives to realize religious unity by ignoring the differences among various faiths based on an assumption that all religions are essentially the same. This, of course, denies the Great Commission Jesus gave the disciples immediately before His Ascension: 

"Go, therefore, and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, teaching them to observe all that I have commanded you. And behold, I am with you always, until the end of the age" [Mt 28:19-20]

For Christians, then, toleration cannot mean acceptance, for we are called to evangelize. Sometimes it's important to question that which seems okay when it's first encountered.

As for me, I’ve never been much of a bumper-sticker guy. I’ve stuck a few on my back bumper over the years, but generally I tend to avoid them. About 25 years ago, when I was working at Providence College, my bumper sported a sticker that read, "Choose Life, Your Mother Did." 

Naively I thought it was a nice sentiment, one that wouldn’t generate any controversy. After all, who wouldn’t be happy their mother didn’t abort them? 

Boy, was I wrong! Every day, as I drove my little Dodge Neon along I-195 on my rather long commute, a number of drivers would greet me with that all too common sign of highway hostility: a single finger raised high for all to see. Many, to ensure I knew the depth of their disagreement, would sound a simultaneous blast on their horns. I’ll admit I was surprised, but unbothered, by it all. I usually just smiled and waved as if they were old friends.

I can’t recall the exact wording of my next bumper sticker, but it supported the Swift Boat Veterans for Truth, an organization of Vietnam vets who strongly opposed John Kerry during the 2004 presidential election. John O’Neil, the group’s spokesman and one of its founders, is a Naval Academy classmate (1967) of mine and, unlike John Kerry, is a man of honor. As a Vietnam veteran myself, I had no reservations putting their sticker on my bumper. Of course, once the election was over, I removed it.

Today there's also a small sticker on the back window of my car indicating I'm a Vietnam veteran. It's there primarily to remind folks that we're still around and proud of our service in that conflict. 

The other day I placed a new bumper sticker on my current car, one that reads: "I Vote Pro-Life."  

I chose it because it states the truth. I have never voted for a candidate, at any level of government, who was not pro-life. I simply cannot vote for a person who supports the slaughter of the most innocent of human lives. On many occasions, because I lived in Massachusetts for 25 years, I’d be faced with two candidates who both supported abortion. When this happened I simply did not vote for either or I wrote in the name of another. 

I’ve actually had several priests tell me I shouldn't be so narrow in my views. As one lectured me, “Don’t be so abortion-focused. You can vote for the lesser of two evils. Anyway, there are other important issues.” Sadly, many of our bishops seem to agree with this. My only response? 

Over 60 million innocent American babies have been murdered since 1973. What could possibly be more important than that? 

And before you accuse me of ignoring capital punishment, you should know that I’m also against the death penalty. I simply do not trust our government — or any earthly government — and our very fallible systems of justice to get it right. Because human justice is inherently unjust, I see no reason to give it the power to take a life.

Another small decal on the back window of my car reads “Faith over Fear”.

What a fitting reminder to folks who seem overly worried about the COVID-19 pandemic; for so many are so very afraid. 

A week or so ago, in a conversation with a parishioner, I expressed my concern that many people, even many of our parishioners, live in fear because of the pandemic. Her response astounded me. Almost shouting, she said,  “Of course we’re afraid! This virus kills older people like us.” Wow! And this from a Christian.

In response I simply reminded her that yes, indeed, we are older and more susceptible to this virus. But that's nothing new. We're more susceptible to most ailments, and so we're far more likely to be dead in five or ten years from any number of causes. But as disciples of Jesus Christ, that really shouldn't bother us. After all, Jesus commanded us, again and again, to "Be not afraid" but to live our faith in trust. 

Every week at Sunday Mass we conclude the Liturgy of the Word by joining together and confessing our faith. And what are the last words of the Nicene Creed? 

"I look forward to the resurrection of the dead and the life of the world to come. Amen." 

I suppose, then, that's the question for all of us. Do we really look forward to the life of the world to come, or do we instead fear the death that precedes it? 

The only folks who should really be afraid of death are committed atheists. After all, for them this life is all there is and old age must be a very scary thing.

I guess the things that are important to me include faith, life, and country; or at least that's what I'm telling others when they check out the back end of my car.


Note: By the way, John O'Neill, the Swift Boat veteran mentioned above, has written a wonderful book on the discovery of St. Peter's tomb far below the main altar of St. Peter's Basilica in Rome. It's an excellent read and I recommend it highly: The Fisherman's Tomb

Priorities

An old friend sent me the below tribute in honor of those who have devoted their lives to defending our country. I don't know who wrote it but the author suggested we pass it along to others, so I thought I'd simply post it on my blog, along with a few of my own comments. 

I'm not a big fan of professional athletics. I haven't watched a major league baseball game in years and haven't attended one in decades. The NBA and NFL have both lost me as well. The NFL, for example, has displaced religion in the lives of many Americans, who would much rather devote their Sundays to football than to "keep holy the Sabbath Day." Indeed, this fanatical focus on professional (and college) sports, along with all the other celebrity worship that permeates our society, is symptomatic of our nation's moral decline. When we remove the "cult" -- the religious foundation -- from our culture, we are left with nothing.

I find it remarkable that so many of our professional athletes, who have reaped rewards unavailable elsewhere, seem to despise the nation that provided them with the opportunity to achieve such material success. One would think they would be overwhelmed by a sense of gratitude. Instead they pay homage to groups like "Black Lives Matter," a movement founded by committed Marxists whose stated goal is not the saving of all, or even most black lives, but the destruction of the family and religious faith, two major obstacles to the power they seek. It's all very sad, and so we pray for them, knowing we have a loving God who has promised to be with us "until the end of the age."

As for me, I was honored to have been able to serve my country and its citizens for many years as a officer in the U.S. Navy. During all those years, and even afterwards, I lost many Naval Academy classmates and close friends. Some lost their lives in combat, others in aircraft accidents, and some as a result of the lingering effects of wounds or agent orange. But none died in vain, despite what the current crop of neo-Marxist protesters and rioters scream at us as they try to destroy our nation and its history, while belittling all the good the United States has brought to the world.

The tribute (and its fitting rebuke) follows: 
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To the NFL and its players,

If I have brain cancer, I don't ask my dentist what I should do. If my car has a problem, I don't seek help from a plumber! Why do you think the public cares what a football player thinks about politics? If we want to know about football, then depending on the information we seek, we might consult with you, but even a quarterback doesn't seek advice on playing his position from a punter.

You seem to have this over-inflated view of yourselves, thinking because you enjoy working on such a large-scale stage, that somehow your opinion about everything matters. The NFL realizes the importance of its "image" so it has rules that specify the clothes and insignia you can wear, the language you can use, and your "antics" after a touchdown or other "great" play. But somehow you and your employer don't seem to care that you disgrace the entire nation and its 320 million people in the eyes of the world by publicly disrespecting this country, its flag, and its anthem! The taxpaying citizens of this country subsidize your plush work environments, yet you choose to use those venues to openly offend those very citizens.

Do you even understand what the flag of this country means to so many of its citizens before you choose to "take a knee" in protest of this country during our national anthem?

You may think because you are paid so much that your job is tough, but you are clueless when it comes to tough. Let me show you those whose jobs are really tough.

You are spoiled babies who stand around and have staff squirt Gatorade in your mouths, sit in front of misting cooling fans when its warm, and sit on heated benches when its cold. That's not tough, that's pampered.

You think you deserve to be paid excessively high salaries because you play a "dangerous" game where you can incur career-ending injuries. Let me show you career-ending injuries!

You think you deserve immediate medical attention and the best medical facilities and doctors when injured. Let me show you what it's like for those who really need and deserve medical attention.

You think you have the right to disrespect the flag of the United States, the flag our veterans fought for, risked limbs and mental stability to defend, and in many cases died for. Let me show you what our flag means to them, their families, and their friends.

You believe you are our heroes, when in reality you are nothing but overpaid entertainers, who exist solely for our enjoyment! Well, your current antics are neither entertaining nor enjoyable, but rather a disgrace to this country, its citizens, all our veterans and their families, and the sacrifices they have made to ensure this country remains free. You choose to openly disgrace this country in the eyes of the rest of the world, yet with all your money, still choose to live here rather than any other country. People with even the slightest amount of "class" will stand and respect our flag. Where does that put you? You want to see heroes...here are this country's heroes!

You can protest policies, the current government, or anything else you choose. That is your right. But when you "protest" our flag and anthem, you insult the nation we all live in and love, and all those who have served, been wounded, or died to keep it free. There is nothing you can do or say that will make your actions anything more than the arrogance of a classless people, who care about themselves more than our country or the freedoms for which our veterans and their families have sacrificed so much, all to ensure you have the right to speak freely. Our country is far from perfect, but if you can point to any other country with greater freedom and opportunity, then you just might want to go there and show respect for their flag! 
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That's all of it...a fitting tribute to those who, since the Battles of Lexington and Concord on April 19, 1775, have sacrificed their lives and their livelihood for this remarkable nation.

God bless America, folks. 

COVID-19 Reflection #10 – Leaping For Joy

Because I’ve already devoted one of these reflections to discipleship, I wasn’t sure if I should address the subject more deeply. But when I came across these words by G. K. Chesterton I was convinced:

“Jesus promised His disciples three things – that they would be completely fearless, absurdly happy, and in constant trouble.”

Chesterton gave us a wonderful benchmark, didn’t he? If you and I are afraid, if we’re unhappy, and if our lives are all right with the world…well, then, we’re probably not the best of disciples. After all, Jesus tells us not to fear, to be joyful, and to accept not the world but God’s kingdom, “For behold, the kingdom of God is among you” [Lk 17:21]. In truth, fear, unhappiness, and worldliness are all symptoms of self-love. They’re certainly not symptoms of God-love. The true disciple has died to self through faith. As St. Paul teaches:

“…yet I live, no longer I, but Christ lives in me; insofar as I now live in the flesh, I live by faith in the Son of God who has loved me and given himself up for me” [Gal 2:20].  

Sadly, not all Christians accept this. Many years ago, on a road trip from Pensacola up to New England, I was driving through the Carolina mountains. The only thing I could pick up on the car radio were country music stations, farm reports, and obituaries. I’d never before heard obituaries broadcast over a local radio station. I guess it’s a Southern thing. Anyway, I found it all fascinating. 

After the obits and some local news, the announcer introduced a preacher who began with these words: “Now, let me tell y’all something. You’re all sinners.” And I found myself thinking, well, preacher, you’re certainly right about that. But then he added, “And God wants nothing to do with you until you repent of your evil lives.” With that I shouted at the speaker, “No, preacher, you’re wrong, about as wrong as you can be.”

He reminded me of the disciples and others in the Gospel who were always trying to keep those pesky sinners away from Jesus. But Jesus called them anyway, didn’t He? They hadn’t repented, at least not yet. That would come later. First came the call, then the response.

Yes, indeed, the world, along with some folks who should know better, try to separate you and me from the love of God. Others, echoing the serpent in Eden, belittle God and try to convince us we’re masters of our own fate: “Don’t be a fool,” they tell us, “You can be like God if only you believe in yourself.”

Believe in myself? What exactly does that mean? Are they saying that I’m the measure of all things? That happiness will result when I focus only on my own needs, my own desires? That God is unnecessary, that He’s nothing more than a threat to my self-esteem? Yes, the world speaks to us through a thousand loud voices all hoping to drown out or alter the Word of the living God.

Some of you who’ve known me a while, know that the event described in chapter 10 of Mark’s Gospel is among my favorites. It’s really a beautiful example of what I’m trying to explain…so let’s listen to Mark as he relates what happened at the gate of the city of Jericho. [See Mk 10:46-52]:

They came to Jericho. 

And as He was leaving Jericho with His disciples and a sizable crowd, Bartimaeus, a blind man, the son of Timaeus, sat by the roadside begging.

On hearing that it was Jesus of Nazareth, he began to cry out and say, “Jesus, son of David, have mercy on me.” 

And many rebuked him, telling him to be silent. But he kept calling out all the more, “Son of David, have mercy on me.” 

Jesus stopped and said, “Call him.” 

So, they called the blind man, saying to him, “Take courage; get up, He is calling you.” 

He threw aside his cloak, leapt up, and came to Jesus. 

Jesus said to him in reply, “What do you want me to do for you?” 

The blind man replied to Him, “Master, I want to see.” Jesus told him, “Go your way; your faith has saved you.” 

Immediately he received his sight and followed Him on the way.

It’s a brief passage, isn’t it? But it reveals so much about the call to discipleship, so let’s dig into it more deeply and see what the Spirit reveals to us.

Now Jericho is an ancient city, believed by many archaeologists to be among the oldest, continuously occupied cities in the world.

Jesus was leaving Jericho, on His way to Jerusalem, on His way to the Cross. Accompanied by His disciples and a great crowd of people, he approached the city’s gate. Unlike the crowd, a man named Bartimaeus, a blind beggar, sat alone, apart, sunken in the misery of his affliction.

In those days, if you were blind and poor, you had no choice. You became a beggar. Unable to earn a living, Bartimaeus spent his days sitting by the road, begging for alms. You can almost hear him, can’t you? “Have pity. Have pity. A coin for a poor blind man.”  A small thing to ask, but on this day Bartimaeus mustered up the courage to ask for something far greater. 

Humbled by his blindness, Bartimaeus knew how needy he was, how helpless if left to himself. In his humility, he had already fulfilled the first condition for being a disciple: to acknowledge one’s total dependence on God. Notice, too, Bartimaeus didn’t hide from the world. He didn’t shut himself up in his father’s house, sitting in some dark corner feeling sorry for himself. No, he was willing to expose his misery to the world’s stream of life and to God.

I suspect most days were the same, but not this day. Bartimaeus heard the commotion of the crowd and learned that Jesus of Nazareth was passing by. He knew of this Jesus, the healer, the one many believe to be the Messiah. And so, from deep within, he summoned courage and cried out: “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me.” No longer the quiet, blind beggar, no longer looking for alms, Bartimaeus wanted only what God can give. He wanted divine mercy.

Unlike most of the disciples, Bartimaeus seemed to sense Jesus’ true identity. Open to the movement of the Holy Spirit within him, he called Jesus by the messianic title, “Son of David.” In doing so he made a public act of worship, shouting again and again to compensate for what his eyes cannot see: “Son of David have mercy on me.”

Filled with the Spirit he became bold, begging God: “Pour out Your goodness and mercy upon me, the one in need.” With this, Bartimaeus teaches us three essential demands of discipleship:

First, a recognition of one’s true condition. This is the inner realization, an awareness that we are broken in ways we cannot repair on our own. It’s really our acceptance of the reality of our human condition. It is true humility. Bartimaeus also teaches you and me to pray in humility, seeking only God’s will in our lives, for God always offers mercy.

I first encountered this in another when I visited a state prison in Massachusetts. As I was praying with an inmate, a lifer who had committed murder, he suddenly exclaimed:

“I am the lowest of the low. I am messed up beyond belief, and it’s all my fault. Only God can heal me of all this junk. And isn’t that the most amazing thing, the most wonderful thing? It just makes me want to leap for joy.” 

I immediately thought of Bartimaeus, leaping for joy in response to the love of Jesus Christ. That inmate also grasped the next demand of discipleship.

Second, exposing one’s condition to the only One who can heal us. The true disciple hears and accepts God’s call to repentance, a call that brings forgiveness and a new life as a disciple of Jesus Christ.

Third, persistence in the face of all opposition. Overwhelmed by God’s Presence, His goodness and forgiveness, the disciple is given a gift: a single-minded and single-hearted focus that hears only God’s call and refuses to let the world overwhelm it.

The question for us, of course, is whether you and I have the boldness of Bartimaeus, or are we so ashamed of our weaknesses and sinfulness, or so timid, or so proud, that we are unable to turn to God and cry out for His mercy?

Jesus always listens, dear friends. He listens for your voice rising above the world and above your own passions. He listens, hoping you will call out his Holy Name, hoping you will shout (or even whisper) for Him to come into your life. 

And He always responds. Jesus stopped at that gateway to Jericho and commanded, “Call him.” Yes, the still unformed disciples tried to keep a blind beggar far away from their teacher, but Jesus ordered them to bring Bartimaeus to Him. The disciples, you see, didn’t think this blind beggar was worth Jesus’ time. 

The crowd, too, dismissed this blind beggar. You can almost hear them can’t you: “How dare you, a beggar, speak to the great teacher, the holy man, perhaps the Messiah?” Rebuffed and scolded, does Bartimaeus worry that he might be pushed aside? No, for he is persistent, despite all opposition.

Indeed, only two people at Jericho’s gate believed Bartimaeus was worth Jesus’ time: Bartimaeus and Jesus.

It is here we see the true disciple. He is the one who rids himself of those purely human desires to keep up appearances, of that tendency to keep God’s dearest creatures separated from Him. Indeed, the primary task of those who have been called by Jesus is to call others to Jesus. This is why the Church defines its mission as one of evangelization.

From this brief scene, we find that we are to implore Jesus boldly and unceasingly. We are to encourage others to respond to God’s call and accept His healing and His mercy.

But our visit to Jericho isn’t quite over…

For when he heard Jesus call him, Bartimaeus leaped to his feet, tossed his coat aside, and went straight to Our Lord. 

The blind, of course, learn to magnify their other senses, and Bartimaeus no doubt knew from which direction the voice of Jesus came. But it’s still interesting that no disciple led the blind Bartimaeus to Jesus, and yet, even in the midst of that large crowd, he went directly to Our Lord.

I‘ve always thought this was the work of the Holy Spirit, for that is what He does: He leads, He guides, He inspires – and on this day he led a blind, hopeful, and faithful Bartimaeus to the One who had called him.

Yes, Bartimaeus displayed, for all to see, the enthusiasm of the true disciple. He leaped, the Gospel tells us, and we can almost feel his joy! He’d waited so long for this moment – the moment when he would be summoned before His Lord so he could be forgiven and healed.

What else did Bartimaeus do? He tossed aside his coat, his beggar’s rags, the symbol of his lowly state in life, and came to Jesus unencumbered, with nothing but his enthusiasm, his love, his faith. He knew he could leave his old life behind because he knew he would be healed. This is the remarkable faith of Bartimaeus, for he already knew what Jesus was going to do for him.

Bartimaeus received the gift of salvation because he had accepted the gift of faith. He shows us that to be saved one must want to be saved; one must direct his steps toward the only One who can work this miracle of salvation, for miracle it is. We certainly can’t save ourselves.

When Jesus asked, “What do you want me to do for you?” Bartimaeus simply replied, “Master, I want to see.” He asked only for his sight…and nothing else. He asked for that which only God can give. He asked only to be restored to wholeness.

Bartimaeus realized Jesus was present just for him, just for Bartimaeus. He knew Jesus was the divine healer, the forgiver of sins, the redeemer of the world. The Son of David, the Messiah that called him hasn’t come to liberate Israel from the Romans, or to establish an earthly kingdom, or to fulfill our every whim. And Bartimaeus knew this. Yes, he knew that Jesus came to restore him to wholeness and to restore the whole of humanity to what it once was, to what God had made it in the beginning. It was in Eden before the Fall that man and woman walked and talked with God. And it is in the streets of Jericho that Bartimaeus walked and talked with the Son of God.

Notice then that Jesus didn’t say, “I have saved you.” No, instead, he said, “Your faith has saved you.” God seeks that kernel of faith into which He can extend His love and power. 

He wants to change lives, and often enough He calls us again and again, in the most outrageous ways. He never gives up on us, but always hopes to find a heart that recognizes who He is, a heart that calls to Him, so He can intervene and change that life.

Invite Jesus to be Lord of your life. Jesus never imposes Himself on us, never forces us to love Him, for love can exist only in freedom. Love is always a decision.

Too often, instead of loving God unconditionally, we Christians spend much of our time piously trying to manipulate His power to suit our own desires. This little scene in Jericho ends with Jesus telling Bartimaeus, now cured of his blindness, to go away. 

“Go your way,” Jesus tells him, perhaps testing him one last time.

But Bartimaeus no longer wishes his life to follow any way other than that of Jesus Christ, and as Mark tells us, he followed Jesus “on the Way”. In other words, he became a disciple, and anticipated what Jesus would tell the apostles just a few days later, on that holy night, the night before He died:

“I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me” [Jn 14:6]

Oh, that we could all be disciples like Bartimaeus. Let’s make that our prayer: that we can recognize our own blindness, all the apparent dead ends in our lives, and expose them to the light of God’s mercy in Jesus Christ.

We’re surrounded by a lot of noise, aren’t we? The world tries to drown out God’s voice, and God’s call. So many people never take the time to listen for God’s call, or even believe He’s calling them. 

How many, like the blind Bartimaeus, want to find God, but are led astray by voices telling them God cares nothing for them, or that He’s not even there to hear their prayer? How many sit alone along life’s roadside, hoping God might one day pass by? 

Recall again how Jesus called Bartimaeus. He did it through His disciples, didn’t He? “Call him,” he commanded. How many have you and I ignored as we move through our own troubled lives, too involved in ourselves to pay attention to those God loves? How many wait for another to take them by the hand, to lead them into the presence of the living God where they will find healing, purpose, and life?

Discipleship always involves a second call, a call to the one who has already responded, a call to lead others to the Lord. Bartimaeus heard that second call and responded. He “followed Him on the way,” and did so fearlessly, happily, and no doubt expecting lots of trouble.