Dr. Karla J. Bellinger

Jan 28 2025

Mercy > Misery

It was hard to be the wife of a blind man. The women mocked me. But they were invisible to their sighted husbands, who were rough with them. Bartimaeus’ touch grew gentler as the darkness descended upon his eyes. As the old mothers say, do not weep for me, weep for yourselves. I am blessed.

Early that day, I guided him to his spot. He liked to find his place before the day began; crowds were hard to navigate. But without sight, his other senses were strong. He was alert to tone of voice, attentive to movement. He could taste goodness, he could smell lies. He was as brilliant as his honored father Timaeus, but even more perceptive. But he was just another blind man to most. I helped him sit. His lips began again to pray the psalms of David.

I turned to go back to the children. He touched my forearm, “Wait!” He sensed something coming. “Wait!” He trembled with excitement.

The crowd drew near. He shouted out, “Son of David, have pity on me!” His voice echoed above the somber crowd. “Hush,” they told him. “Hush!” I told him. He would not stop shouting.

I did not hear the words spoken, but suddenly the crowd parted as though to open the banks of a river.

Bartimaeus later told me that he sensed love rushing toward him, like spring waters flooding into the empty rivers of the southern desert. He tossed me his cloak and rushed off. I didn’t see what happened. The crowds passed. Bartimaeus stood alone on the road facing away from me. I crept near. He sensed me. He turned. His eyes peered into my eyes for the first time in fifteen years. He caressed my cheek. “I always knew that you were still beautiful,” he whispered. Then he ran after the crowd, shouting to all, “Come! Meet Jesus! Your life will never be the same!”

I am so very blessed.

Consider/Discuss

Jesus’ tender mercy floods in upon our misery. Yet we may not see it. The literal Greek words of Bartimaeus’s request are “That I might recover my sight.” Have we at one time “seen” that flood of mercy? Have we forgotten? Gone blind? Taken it for granted? Share a story of a time when you once experienced mercy.
Bartimaeus was thrilled to be set free from his blindness. That same jubilation is expressed in today’s reading from Jeremiah. The Jews are delivered from bondage, set free from captivity. What one little thing might the Holy Spirit inspire you to do today that will set someone free, that will lessen someone’s misery through your act of mercy?

Living and Praying with the Word

Lord, we do not always see your compassion, especially when we are weighed down with troubles. On this autumn day, reveal to us your presence in everyday life. Flow upon us like a river in the desert, calling out, “Look, here I am!” Open our eyes. Make our touch tender and our words reverent, especially for those close to us. Jesus, have mercy on us and help us to be merciful like you.

Jan 28 2025

How to Be a Hero

It is healthy to want to be a hero. A nine-year-old girl wants to be Wonder Woman, jumping from a cliff to land on a horse. Elsewhere, a twelve-year-old boy wants to soar into space to rescue planets. A twenty-year-old young woman wants to work with the homeless to gladden their lives.

All young people want to be heroes.

A seminarian and I were working on his homily in my office. As he talked, I heard an undercurrent of that desire for heroism in his unpacking of the scriptures. So I brought it up. He shrank back from the word “heroic” and said, “I don’t want to be proud.”

I winced. Heroism is not a bad thing, something to be quashed in the young. To want to be heroic is motivating. It drives you toward excellence. It keeps you going when life gets tough. Heroic virtue is one of the hallmarks of the saints. They glorified God as they were torn apart by lions.

Heroism is good. Young people want to be heroes.

Jesus understood this drive. He just shifted the focus. Jesus didn’t say to James and young John, “Don’t wish to be the greatest.” He said, “Whoever wishes to be great will be your servant.” He didn’t say, “Don’t wish to be first.” He said, “Whoever wants to be first, will be the slave of all.” He didn’t say, “Don’t wish to be great.” He said, “This is how to be great.”

Jesus wants heroes.

Jesus himself is the Hero of heroes. Jesus himself shows us how to be heroic. He suffered and died to show us what heroism looks like. For God’s sake, let us not settle for mediocrity. For God’s sake, let us be great! God’s great, God’s heroes, God’s saints: to God be the glory for our heroic lives!

Consider/Discuss

What are the tugs and pulls around the issue of heroism? What is the difference between the temptation toward “being proud” and the drive toward “being heroic”?
In your spiritual growth, where are you cultivating heroic virtue? Where do you find yourself sliding into “oh, well”?

Living and Praying with the Word

Jesus, you show us how to be heroic—how to serve and not stop serving, how to give and not stop giving, how to love and keep loving unto death. We want to be like you. On our own, when things go well, we cheer for ourselves and think that we are great. Show us what true greatness is. Help us to strive for nothing less. For we want to give you glory with our lives. Come, Holy Spirit, and empower us to be heroes for God.

Jan 28 2025

A Second Chance?

It is 36 A.D. A man sits at the table, and amuses himself with his coins. He likes the way they gleam in the morning sunshine when he pours them from one hand into the other. His wife came by just now. She burst in the door to tell him about all the healings that Jesus’ disciples are doing.

He remembers that day. He had answered the questions correctly. Jesus had looked at him with love. He had felt so good inside, so happy to be approved by the Master. Then the man had said, “Go, sell all you have, give to the poor and then come, follow me.” But he couldn’t. He just couldn’t. He is still heavy of heart about that.

When she raves about how wonderful the apostles are, Peter this, John that . . . over and over again . . . Could he have been one of the Twelve? He could be working miracles now. But no. He keeps flipping his coins, thinking.

Jesus’s eyes: that look of love still haunts him. Might there have been a second chance for him? If the man asked again, now, would he go? Not with the son of the carpenter—for they had killed him.

“I am a good man,” he objects. “Is it my fault that my father was wealthy, even holding property in Cyprus? I have followed the commandments all my life.” Is it impossible for a rich man to enter into heaven?

He hears that voice: “Follow me.” He sees that love in his eyes. The sun is going down. He stands. He calls his wife, “Come!” The apostles are talking about there being so many people, so many needs, and what are they to do? The man kneels down before them as he had once knelt before Jesus. He lays his bags of coins at their feet.

Peter recognizes him from that day, and rushes over. “Welcome home! Thank you! You have heartened us today!”

Consider/Discuss

If Jesus asked you to leave everything that you have right now, how would you respond? To what might you cling most closely? House or brother or sisters or mother or father or children or lands . . . What treasure gleams more brightly than Jesus?
Like today’s account, sometimes a Gospel story just seems to need a sequel. There are lots of biblical people we never hear from again. Whatever happened to the twelve-year-old girl whom Jesus raised? What about the little boy who brought Jesus the loaves and the fishes? What happened to Simon’s mother-in-law—what kind of life did she end up with? Let your imagination play with one of those secondary biblical characters. Or write your own story. Does Jesus give people a second chance? Or a third? Or a fourth?

Living and Praying with the Word

Lord, you have filled us with your love. You never stop calling us to follow you, to leave behind that which holds us back, to prefer you before all else. Help us to measure prosperity aright, for you prosper the work of our hands. Immerse us at daybreak with your kindness. Satisfy us at sunset with your peace. We give this day to you.

Jan 28 2025

A Broad, Expansive Love

A friend came into the break room and announced, “Today, my husband and I have been married for thirteen happy years!” We all congratulated her. When the room quieted, she said, “Well . . . we’ve been married for twenty-four.”

Marriage can be beautiful. Marriage can be broken. There is nothing that can get an argument going as much as the topic of marriage. That was true in the times Jesus lived in. That is still true in our own.

Some of the priests whom I coach in homiletics tell me that they’d rather talk about anything else than preach on marriage and divorce. They know people in their pews who have been hurt by betrayal and brokenness; some had their childhood ripped apart when their family split up, leaving wounds that have never healed. Why would you want to awaken that pain?

The words of Jesus teaching about the permanence of marriage can feel rigid and even harsh from a Teacher who was neither. Yet his words have been slung like a weapon ever since. But what is the ideal that Jesus, the man of love, is looking for?

At the center of this scripture are the words “joined together.” They connote a God-given intimacy; not just walking beside someone, not simply a physical union, but an integral give-and-take of one’s whole life. Jesus extols becoming childlike, but childishness has to be left behind for two people to come together to serve one another.

Sometimes we get glimpses of God’s expansive vision for what marriage can be. I recall Tom and Sally at daily Mass. She was frail and leaned like the Tower of Pisa. He led her into church by the elbow. When he smoothed her hair, she looked up at him and smiled. They had gone through many decades and many sufferings, but the two of them seemed to be “joined together” in mutual joy. I think they made God smile.

Consider/Discuss

God’s vision for marriage is broad and expansive—a gift of belovedness from one person to another. Where have you seen that vision take hold? Who do you know as a model of being “joined together”?
Just as the Pharisees put Jesus to the test over the issue of marriage and divorce, so our culture wrangles over the issue of marriage. It is deeply divisive topic. What kinds of disputes arise among your family and friends? In Christian charity, how can you speak to those conflicts in a way that will be heard as love?

Living and Praying with the Word

Jesus, you saw a model of marriage in your childhood home in Nazareth. And yet even your Holy Family was not free from its trials. Early on, Joseph thought about divorcing Mary. There may have been conflicts about how to raise you properly, whose fault it was you got left behind in the temple, how to carry on as Joseph lay dying. Married life is full of the tug and pull of conflict. Send your grace upon all families. Help us to handle our differences with love and kindness. Your vision is that we be one. On our own, we cannot make it happen, but come, Prince of Peace and make it so.

Jan 28 2025

God, Protector of Little Ones

It was 5:30 a.m. I went out the back door for a walk. My mind had things to think about. Some people have streetlights and sidewalks. I have woods. It was dark—really dark. I’d walked that path a thousand times. But it was so black. Suddenly, a loud primal “Whaaaaa!” sounded a few feet from me. I looked into the dark. What was that? I could see nothing. I turned and shakily walked back to the house.

Have you ever heard a deer hiss? When you come between a mother deer and her fawn in the night, that gentle mama becomes a raging protector. The noise she makes is terrifying.

Have you ever heard Jesus hiss? In today’s reading, we may dismiss what Jesus has to say as hyperbole, an overstatement for the sake of making his point. But gentle Jesus can also become a raging protector when his little ones are threatened. Don’t you dare lead one of these little ones astray! “It would be better for you if a great millstone were put around your neck and you were thrown into the sea.” Whoa.

Young people have shared stories with me: a ninth grader date raped by a senior football player; a sixteen-year-old abused in his youth group; a child molested by a trusted family friend. Rage rises within me. I want to hiss “Whaaaaa!” like that deer. That mistreatment affects them for years. They don’t get over it. How dare someone treat these little ones that way?

Gentle Jesus isn’t exaggerating. He means it. To his disciples and to us, he gives a loud primal “Whaaaaa!” Unquenchable fire! Thrown into Gehenna! Where the worm does not die! Don’t you dare cause one of these little ones to stumble. Cut off your hand. Pluck your eye out. Whatever you have to do, do it. Do not hurt my little ones!

Consider/Discuss

A father feels a surge of protectiveness for his pink and wrinkled newborn. The mother of a toddler flies into a rage when she thinks another child will hurt her daughter. A teacher keeps her students close when they are on a field trip. A mother bear will attack a hiker who gets close to her cubs. If these are our God-given instincts to protect the helpless, does the Creator also feel a protective rage over the mistreatments? Do we dare mess with God’s righteous indignation? Might a “hiss” from Jesus make us more careful about how we behave?
That surge of protectiveness—have you felt it rise within you? Sometimes it is a healthy and necessary thing. Sometimes it can hinder or damage relationships. How do we discern the difference?

Living and Praying with the Word

Lord, only you are righteous and good. Thank you for the protective instincts that spur us to keep those we love safe. You ask us to watch over your children, for they are precious to you. But at the same time, you detect failings that we hide or cannot see. Do not let our instincts of protectiveness go wrong, keeping outsiders out, becoming tribal, keeping others from partaking of your bounty. You detest any evil in us. Root out our unknown faults. Chop off all that is not of you so that we follow you more purely.