Matthew Rhodes ‘14, ’16 M.Ed.
In this passage, Jesus admonishes the people for not understanding what he is doing during his public ministry. He equates the obvious changes in weather to how he expects people to heed his own signs and preaching; to him, the signs are clear.
For those of us living 2,000 years later, Jesus’s plea resonates—how could these people who actually got the chance to hear Jesus preaching in person have missed the signs? How could they not have accepted him as Lord? How could this man who fed the 5,000, raised the dead, and cured the sick be interpreted as anyone other than the Messiah?
It is tempting to imagine myself in the time of Jesus’s public life and think how readily I would have followed Jesus if only I had been given the chance to walk alongside him, to hear his voice, and to see his miracles.
Such thoughts exonerate me from my own inability to see and interpret God’s signs here and now, for it assumes that the present time is devoid of Christ’s presence. But the signs abound, and they are as obvious as the cloud rising in the west or the south wind blowing.
Instead of focusing on the signs of God that surround me, marvelously displayed today in autumn’s changing foliage or the laughter of friends and family, I become guilty of wishing I had some sort of overt, obvious Divine Revelation to make things known to me. Instead of thanking God for the good I have already been given and trusting that God will make things clear as time dictates, I become obsessed with asking God to show me the precise path my life should follow. In this way, I myself become one of the “hypocrites” Jesus scorns, and must be reminded that Christ walks alongside me.
I, too, can hear his voice and see his miracles, if only I am willing to listen to him, recognize the way he is working in my life, and correct my own blindness.