I
see, said the blind man. It is an old
and tired joke, yet it stays in our vocabulary because so often it rings true. We hear someone’s words to us, even comprehend
the sentences, but cannot grasp the meaning behind them. We understand, but we don’t understand.
I cannot un-see an
image I saw inadvertently of the beheading of twenty-one Coptic Christians on
the shore in Libya. It is painful,
frightening, and discouraging all at once.
But today I saw another image of those same Coptic martyrs, and it
changed everything.
The twenty-one souls on
the shore look to Christ their Savior, who beckons them come to Him. The angels descend, bearing crowns of
martyrdom, even as the waves turn red with their blood. Their orange garb is covered over by red, yes
the red of martyrs’ blood, but also the red of Christ’s own Divinity. It looks nothing like the internet image I
saw, but reveals better the reality.
This evening, as I
prayed the psalms of Vespers, the evening office, I came to the line Worthy is the Lamb who was slain, and
the phrase the Lamb who was slain
caught my attention and rang again and again in my mind. Once again the image of those innocents being
slain came unbidden to my eyes. But
those words stand in the midst of the great hymn from Revelation: Worthy is the Lamb who was slain, to receive
power and wealth and wisdom and might and honor and glory and blessing! (Rev 5:12).
And the eyes of my heart were opened wider.
Suddenly those words
brought to mind others. He was oppressed, and he was afflicted, yet
he opened not his mouth; like a lamb that is led to the slaughter, and like a
sheep that before its shearers is dumb, so he opened not his mouth. (Is 53:7) And, For
to this you have been called, because Christ also suffered for you, leaving you
an example, that you should follow in his steps. He committed no sin; no guile
was found on his lips. When he was reviled, he did not revile in return; when
he suffered, he did not threaten; but he trusted to him who judges justly. He himself
bore our sins in his body on the tree, that we might die to sin and live to
righteousness. By his wounds you have been healed. (1 Pt 2:21-24)
By
his wounds you have been healed. Those words that I associate with Sunday
Vespers every week of Lent have long been pure consolation for me. But they mean more to me now than they did
even a few hours ago.
Jesus gave Peter,
James, and John the consolation of seeing His transfiguration, His true
identity and glory revealed, in advance of their witnessing His passion and
death. I see now, said Peter; let us
stay here. But the vision passed, Jesus
led them back down the mountain, and they asked one another what rising from the dead meant. They had seen, but were still blind.
I read somewhere that
the last words from the martyrs were, Lord
Jesus Christ. He gave them eyes to
see, what we need the icon to begin to imagine.
I see, said the blind man.
Monsignor
Smith
