Fourth Sunday of Lent (A): John 9:1-41
“Jesus said, ‘I came into this world for judgment, so that those who do not see might see, and those who do see might become blind.'” – John 9:39
Needless to say, light is most useful. It enables us to see our surroundings, locate objects that we wish to take (or walk around), and recognize people we meet. Light helps us see the results of our work. However, light also helps us see any mistakes we have made. It shows us dust that we failed to clean up. It shows signs of aging on our faces. Light imposes no judgment on us; it merely shows us what is. Judgment, in this context, is how we respond to what the light shows us. Do we accept what we see: the flaws, for example, in our faces and bodies? Are we willing to act based on what we see: by cleaning up the dust, for example, or putting out the trash? In these cases, we pass judgment on ourselves, based on what we do with what the light shows us. Our choices reveal our true values. They show who – or what – we serve.
This interplay of light and judgment is one of the main themes of the Gospel of John. This theme finds its fullest development in this Gospel story that we have for this coming Sunday. Jesus comes into the world as the light of the world. People will respond to what they see by the light of Christ in various ways. Their responses will say a great deal about them. As I point out certain characters in the story, let us imagine ourselves there. This is our story, too. The Light has come into our lives as well. How do we respond to what the Light reveals to us?
The disciples. As the story begins, Jesus and his disciples pass by a man who has been blind from birth. The disciples see the man’s blindness as some kind of punishment the man must endure because of sin. So, they ask “Who sinned, he or his parents, that he was born blind?” Jesus’ response: “Neither he nor his parents sinned; it is so that the works of God might be made visible through him.”
The disciples aren’t the only ones who cannot fit weakness into the divine plan. Have we ever felt disillusioned or disappointed by the group or community we find ourselves in? Our parish? Our family? Our convent or monastery? Our priests? Do some of the flaws you see in others get to you? What are you really seeing in that light? Sometimes, we have an idealized image of our community which is merely a projection of our idealized view of our own selves. We want a perfect community; in other words, one that is worthy of us. Weaknesses of any kind are intolerable in others because we refuse to admit our own. We want to see ourselves as “practically perfect”. The flaws we see in others – especially the ones that really bother us – are, very often, also invitations to acknowledge our own faults, our own failures.
There is more. One of the hallmarks of any Christian community is an acceptance of, and even a preference for, the weak. The marginalized. The disabled. The failures in life. How can this be? It is the Lord who calls us together. It is the Lord who gives us to a community and a community to us. And how does he choose us? The Lord isn’t impressed by résumés. He doesn’t need our talents; after all, he gave them to us. No, we are chosen because of our weaknesses. We, weak and disabled as we are, are gifts to a community of the weak and disabled, as they are to us. Why? By love, forgiveness, compassion, and patience, we embrace one another’s weaknesses as opportunities to experience the healing compassionate love of the Lord. We become signs of the coming Kingdom, right here, right now. This is how “the works of God are made visible” through us – not in strength, nor in clever strategies, but in our welcoming of weakness in ourselves and in others.
The blind man’s parents. As the story continues, the blind man is brought to the Pharisees. It looks like some sort of trial is unfolding. The Pharisees call in the blind man’s parents to ask them if this is their son, if he was born blind, and, if so, how he can now see. The parents acknowledge that the man is truly their son and that he was blind from birth. However, although they apparently know by now how he was healed, they demur and say “We do not know”. John tells us that the parents fear being expelled from the synagogue of they acknowledge what Jesus has done for their son.
In our day, it is unlikely that we will be expelled from our parish or our city or town for our witness to Christ. Nevertheless, we face similar challenges. We live in a largely secular society that has lost a sense of the sacred even as it senses that something essential is missing. Many people just won’t get our faith in the Lord and in his Church. Even when they acknowledge it, they will see it as nothing more than our peculiar hobby or interest – not something that we center our lives on. They will expect us to conform to their standards and norms. This is true whether we are talking about people on the left, the right, or the center. Even these are human-made distinctions. We will feel pressure – subtle at times, less subtle at others – to follow the crowds. It will be tempting to be like the blind man’s parents and not give our faith away. However, if the Light of the world has called us “the light of the world”, we are called to be faithful. The world around us needs our witness – not our surrender. (Though they may demand our surrender!)
The blind man. This man does not take after his parents in at least one thing. He will not deny what has happened to him. Notice something else. As the challenges that the once-blind man faces increase and become dangerous, he doesn’t surrender. Every time he chooses to witness to the truth of what Jesus has done for him, the light brightens, so to speak, and he sees more and more clearly who Jesus is. First of all, he simply acknowledges that Jesus has healed him. Then, when pressed and challenged by the Pharisees, he declares that Jesus is a prophet. When the Pharisees persist in challenging and even ridiculing him, and insisting that Jesus is a sinner, the healed man goes on the offensive. He points out the inherent absurdity in the Pharisees’ attempt to dismiss Jesus: “If this man were not from God, he would not be able to do anything”. He cannot deny what his own eyes have seen. He will not deny it. Every time he says yes to it, it becomes clearer. Finally, when Jesus comes to meet him, the man professes his full faith and calls Jesus “Lord”. It is thus that the man’s blindness became the means for him to give glory to God.
Ironic, isn’t it? The man who was physically blind is the only one who comes to see clearly who Jesus is, and what the proper attitude to Jesus must be: he worships him.
What has Jesus done for you? For me? Are we this willing to announce it to anyone who might ask about it? We don’t really know what something means to us until we actually say it to someone else. In the very act of trying to put it into words, we see it more clearly. We understand better what the Lord has done for us. Our faith deepens. We become more willing to witness to the Lord. We become better disciples and apostles.
People desperately need this kind of witness. As important and necessary as learning the teachings of the Church is, this kind of witness is even more important. Faith and love are caught first, and then taught. People need to see what difference our faith makes in our lives so that they can see what difference it can make for them. Once people catch that fire, then they will ask about it. Then we can fill in the blanks with doctrine and Scripture. But let them see, first of all, people who have all the weaknesses of everyone else but yet who have found healing, light, and salvation in Christ and his people, the Church. Then, perhaps, others will see their way clearly to join us.