The Church’s long history is filled with men and women who, like the figures in today’s gospel, gave up everything to obtain the treasure in the field or the pearl of great price. Whether Saint Anthony of the Desert, Saint Martin of Tours, Saint Bernard, or the poor man of Assisi, we are struck not only by the totality of their conversion but by the joy with which they embraced it. For countless martyrs, this “selling all” meant surrendering their very lives in eager anticipation of the fulfillment of their deepest longing. And while their witness edifies us, we may also feel discouraged—or even envious—when we compare their radical discipleship with our own faltering response. What inspired such holiness, and why do we struggle and fail to imitate it?
They themselves would attribute everything to God’s special grace. For many, this grace included what the gospel parable hints at: a glimpse of the treasure they desired. The Gerasene demoniac, for example, freed from oppression, Mary Magdalene delivered from seven demons, and the woman who loved much because she had been forgiven much—all experienced firsthand something of the kingdom of heaven, and their lives changed irrevocably. Others, however, did not receive such glimpses. Saint Augustine’s long struggle toward faith was largely bereft of glimpses of the buried treasure, and Teresa of Avila’s “second conversion” came only after decades of half‑hearted fidelity. They did not initially see the treasure; they heard others speak of it and trusted the testimony of those whom God had privileged with earlier glimpses.
So too for us, each one of us has a unique story explaining why we are here this morning. Some may recall a moment when God revealed himself powerfully; others have known only a quiet, steady fidelity without defining experiences. Yet if we believe Saint Paul, who assures us that all things work for good for those who love God, then neither path is superior. Indeed, to paraphrase Jesus’ words to Thomas: Blessed are those who have not glimpsed the treasure, yet still believe. And even those once granted such glimpses may find them fading over time, leaving them to wonder if they were real.
Ultimately, in either case, what is needed is faith to believe and then act. Those who have glimpsed the joy to come need faith to persevere; those who have not, need the faith Saint Paul expressed to Timothy: I know whom I have believed, and I am sure that he is able to guard until that day what has been entrusted to me. God’s way with each of us is the one best suited to lead us to union with him. Thus, rather than demand a glimpse of our eternal inheritance—or cling anxiously to past ones—we do well to heed Francis de Sales’ counsel: Ask for nothing, and refuse nothing. Trust God’s wisdom and love; welcome whatever he gives, and accept whatever he withholds. In the meantime, let us walk forward in faith, following those who have gone before us and who now no longer glimpse but possess—and are possessed by—the One who is the Treasure and the Pearl of great price.