Daily Gospel Reflection
Join the Notre Dame family of faith. Receive God’s Word and a unique reflection in your inbox each day.
November 20, 2023
As Jesus approached Jericho
a blind man was sitting by the roadside begging,
and hearing a crowd going by, he inquired what was happening.
They told him,
“Jesus of Nazareth is passing by.”
He shouted, “Jesus, Son of David, have pity on me!”
The people walking in front rebuked him,
telling him to be silent,
but he kept calling out all the more,
“Son of David, have pity on me!”
Then Jesus stopped and ordered that he be brought to him;
and when he came near, Jesus asked him,
“What do you want me to do for you?”
He replied, “Lord, please let me see.”
Jesus told him, “Have sight; your faith has saved you.”
He immediately received his sight
and followed him, giving glory to God.
When they saw this, all the people gave praise to God.
Jesus’ final words in today’s gospel, “Have sight; your faith has saved you,” make me wonder what counts as faith. In our culture, faith is widely thought to be a good thing. I’ve seen the word appear in all sorts of fonts on t-shirts, coffee mugs, tattoos, and bumper stickers, but I’m rarely sure what exactly faith means in any of these contexts.
Today’s gospel offers a powerful example of what faith looks like in Jesus’ eyes, and our teacher is a blind man begging by the roadside—someone living on the literal margins outside of town and off the side of the road. This man dared to make noise and approach Jesus, incurring the prickly contempt from those behaving “properly.” Faith demands risk, and it is the way to see Christ.
I find the example of the blind man challenging. I like quiet and prefer to practice my faith by reading and praying, which I know are valuable but also realize are not all that faith entails. In The Jesuit Guide to (Almost) Everything by Fr. James Martin, he reflects on the Good Samaritan story and recalls something a teacher once taught him: “Sin is a failure to bother to love.”
It’s easy for me to stay put and not bother to open my eyes and make some noise for the sake of the marginalized, but that’s no way to live a life of faith. The blind man reminds us that the way to see Christ and have faith is to bother to see (sometimes literally bothering those around us in the process) and respond to people in need of care.
Today’s gospel prompts me to ask that I may find the courage to accept whatever unexpected invitations I receive to call out and see Jesus through a faithful willingness to bother to love those I may be tempted to ignore.
Prayer
Lord Jesus, the blind man knew what he needed, and wasn’t afraid to keep asking aloud. Grant us his persistence and courage. You know we have many needs. In voicing them, we give voice to the needs of all, and thus bring your healing to all. Remove our fear and timidity, please, so that we can bring your healing to others. Amen.
Saint of the Day

St. Edmund Rich had a personal sanctity that faithfully guided his dealings with the most powerful people on earth. He was unafraid to speak the truth, whether to the king of England or the pope, and he was often at odds with both.
St. Edmund was born in 1180 and studied at Oxford and in Paris; he was the first Master of Arts at Oxford. He was known for a faithfulness that matched his diligent study. He taught art and mathematics until he received a vision from his deceased mother, who encouraged him to study theology.
After receiving his doctorate in theology, he was ordained a priest and went on to teach theology and hold significant posts in the university’s administration. He was the first to teach Aristotle at Oxford, and took great interest in his students, especially if they were poor or sick. Today's featured image shows a bronze statue of St. Edmund that stands at Oxford.
Edmund dedicated almost all of his income to the poor or to the Church–he often fell into need himself because of his generosity, and his superiors scolded him for not saving more for his own support.
He was known as an eloquent speaker and effective preacher–miracles and conversions accompanied his speaking. He was also an expert in spirituality and constantly encouraged the faithful to pray. Speaking on how we ought to pray, he said:
“A hundred thousand people are deceived by multiplying prayers. I would rather say five words devoutly with my heart, than 5,000 which my soul does not relish with affection and intelligence.”
He was known for his great self-discipline: under his clothes, he wore a sackcloth pressed close to his skin by metal plates, and he slept only a few hours at night in order to spend time in prayer and meditation. On one occasion, he was observed levitating, rapt in prayer.
In 1233 he was named Archbishop of Canterbury against his wishes. He advised King Henry III and presided at the king’s confirmation of the Magna Carta in 1237. Edmund was at the center of relations between Rome and England, and spoke truth to power on both sides. He admonished the king for having favorites in his court, and traveled to Rome to urge reforms in the Church.
Because he was so truthful and did not vary from what he saw as just and right, many people found him inconvenient. Political movements forced Edmund’s resignation in 1240, and he moved to France and became a monk. He died later that year, and miracles at his grave were reported soon after his burial. His relics rest in the reliquary chapel in the Basilica.
St. Edmund Rich, you spoke truth to both the king and the pope—pray for us!
Image Credit: Our featured image of St. Edmund Rich is in the public domain. Last accessed October 18, 2024 on Wikimedia Commons.