Imagine, for a moment, that you’re one of Noah’s children, at the time of today’s first reading from Genesis. You’ve just endured the 40 days of flooding rains, aboard an incredible ark. You’ve literally witnessed the end of the world, as you knew it. The rain has stopped, sure, but you’re still at sea. There are no signs of habitable land. Your father has just sent out a dove to see if it could find a place to land, but it returned unsatisfied. And so you wait.
And you wait. And you wait. You didn’t have a conversation with God, like Noah did, so you don’t have direct proof that everything will be okay in the end. All you probably have is your father’s word — which you trust — and your faith. Your faith is probably pretty strong, but surely tested. The flood has ended, we see signs of God’s blessings, but when will our new lives begin?
You wait a week. Seven whole days. This is a peaceful time compared to the previous 40 days aboard the ark, but still . . . how do you feel? At least during the weeks of flooding there was an actual crisis to survive through, a harrowing experience amid countless animals — perhaps howling and frightened — that probably drew you and your family closer together. But now? Now the crisis is over, and you wait. For seven days, amid the calm seas of a flooded Earth, you wait for the end of this phase of God’s plan.
A week later, the dove returns, olive leaf in its beak. At last, a sign! God is working to make the world anew. Things are clearly getting better, but still your life has not begun anew. And so, you wait, another seven days.
Put yourself in the mindset of one of Noah’s children for those two weeks. Would you be impatient? If you’re doing God’s work, and His plan has clearly come to fruition, why do you need to wait fourteen days to get off this ship?! When will your new life begin?
In a similar way, put yourself in the mind of the blind man who encountered Jesus in today’s gospel selection from Mark. You probably haven’t been blind your whole life — you understand what trees look like — but, obviously, your blindness has affected many aspects of your life, and you find yourself begging this miraculous man to touch you.
Jesus does touch the man’s eyes: “Putting spittle on his eyes he laid his hands on the man and asked, ‘Do you see anything?’ Looking up the man replied, ‘I see people looking like trees and walking.'”
Focus on that moment. Jesus has just touched you. Your vision has been partially restored, but it is not yet whole. What’s going through your mind? You’re quite probably happy that things are better for you, but they’re still not perfect. Now what? You put your trust in God, and yet your needs have still not been fully met.
That moment passed quickly enough for the blind man, before Jesus touched his eyes again and restored his vision completely. And the formerly blind man could begin his life anew, his encounter with Christ fully realized.
Similarly, the two weeks would ultimately pass for Noah and his family, and their new lives would begin in a world restored by God.
Sometimes it seems like we have a vision of God as a magician, with a clap of thunder, a ray of light, and a problem solved instantaneously. And, sure, God could work in that way were He so inclined. But it’s at least as likely that God — for whatever reason — wants time to pass before the fullness of His plans are revealed.
And thus it is for many who encounter Christ. There’s that moment of elation and faith as you put your trust in Him, and then . . . perhaps a sign, like an olive leaf. Perhaps the truth seems slightly clearer than it did before, like the blind man. Perhaps there’s no sign at all, like the raven that Noah released before the dove. What do you do in that in-between time?
In a similar way, what about those needs that are never resolved to your satisfaction? If Noah’s children were waiting for God to restore the world to as it was before — where they could spend time with their friends and revel in their old homes — they were destined to be disappointed. If the blind man who Jesus encountered had other needs beyond his blindness — financial woes, feelings of inadequacy, or worries about what he would do with his life now — it’s quite possible that his meeting with Christ wouldn’t have fixed those needs.
Knowing that God has a plan for us doesn’t ensure that our every desire will be met, nor does it promise a timetable. Perhaps it’s best if we can recognize how the Lord has blessed us, be open to further blessings, but also understand that life may not get better. If it does, great! Praise God! But the ultimate promise of Christ is for the next world, and knowing that will hopefully give us peace and steadfastness as we progress in this world.
In a way, many of us are in the in-between time our whole lives. We recognize how God has touched our hearts in the past, and perhaps wait in hope or expectation for what’s to come. But regardless of how tomorrow turns out, it’s good to know that the ultimate ending has been decided; it’s up to us to determine in this life, in these in-between moments, how we can prepare ourselves to let our eyes be opened to the glorious new world that awaits us in the fullness of time.
Today’s readings: Gn 8:6-13,20-22; Ps 116:12-13,14-15,18-19; Mk 8:22-26
