Read Acts of the apostles and you’ll see that the word “boldness” reappears again and again to describe the way the disciples witness to the Lordship of Jesus, the crucified and risen Messiah. Now let’s contrast that with plain old faith.
Don’t we often think of faith as passive? Haven’t we often heard that faith means waiting patiently, receiving the Lord’s word humbly and meekly, like the Virgin Mary (Lk 1:38)?
Faith indeed has a receptive dimension. It is receptive to the way things really are, that God is God and we are not (that’s humility). That Jesus is not just another great moral teacher (as Thomas Jefferson thought) or even an inspired prophet (as Mohammed thought). That this messiah, this anointed king, is God incarnate, and nothing is impossible for God (Lk 1: 37).
But faith also has a supremely active dimension. The truth about Jesus demands a response. When Mary said “let it be done unto me according to your word,” she was offering herself, her entire life, to God, who had spoken to her through the angel. That kind of self-offering sounds pretty active to me. Her faith in her son demanded faithfulness to her son when his hour had finally come and nearly everyone else had fled. So she stood courageously at the foot of the cross (Jn 19: 25). That’s boldness.
Bartimaeus makes it clear that if faith is humble and receptive, it is not demure, shy, or reticent. Faith takes initiative. It can actually be boisterous at times, even outrageous. Bartimaeus knows what Jesus has to offer, he knows what he wants, and, by God, he’s not going to let opportunity pass him by. He can’t see exactly where Jesus is and so can’t walk right up to him to make his request in a dignified, semi-private manner. So he uses what he has his voice. He makes a scene. The more people tell him to be quiet the louder he shouts. And when he finally got Jesus’ attention and was summoned to him, the text says he jumped up, he leapt to his feet. That’s boldness.
There were hundreds, maybe thousands in the crowd that day. I bet all of them had needs. How many went away with needs unmet, with problems unsolved, though they were close to Jesus? It was the same way with the woman with the flow of blood in Lk 8:43 who emerged from the crowd to touch the hem of his garment. She was healed, because of her active, bold faith. How about all the others in the crowd who were close to Him and maybe even physically bumped into him? What did they receive?
The Church has always taught that the life-changing grace of Christ is made available through the sacraments irrespective of the holiness of the minister or the congregation. The technical Latin phrase for this objective guarantee that God always shows up is ex opere operato. In the Eucharist, the sacrament of sacraments, it is not just God’s grace (which is awesome enough) but Christ’s bodily presence which is made available. That means that every Sunday we have the same opportunity as Bartimaeus or the woman with the hemorrhage.
So why do so many of us go to Mass again and again and walk out the door much the same as we went in? Why so little healing, so little growth in holiness? Maybe because we lack the outrageously bold faith of Bartimaeus. “Blessed are those who don’t expect much, for they shall not be disappointed!” This is not one of the beatitudes, but I think many of us think it is. We dare not reach out expectantly to the Lord for fear that nothing will happen. That’s called unbelief.
Every sacramental celebration, especially the Eucharist, says the Catechism (CCC 739, 1106), is a new Pentecost. The gifts and charisms of the Holy Spirit, forgiveness, healing, purification, guidance, all are there for the taking. In the spirit of Bartimaeus, let’s determine to stop going home empty handed.
Dr. D’Ambrosio studied for his Ph.D under Avery Cardinal Dulles and taught theology at the University of Dallas. He appears weekly on radio and TV reaching six continents and his book, tapes, and CD’s are distributed world-wide. Dr. D’Ambrosio is the founder of Crossroads Initiative, an apostolate of Catholic renewal and evangelization.
(This article originally appeared in Our Sunday Visitor and is used by permission of the author.)