Fourth Sunday of Lent (A)
Jesus turned and saw them following him and said to them, “What are you looking for?” – John 1:38
“I tell you, look up and see the fields ripe for the harvest.” – John 4:35
“Amen, I say to you, many prophets and righteous people longed to see what you see but did not see it, and to hear what you hear but did not hear it.” – Matthew 13:17
Seeing is believing – or so the saying goes. But is it so?
In the ninth chapter of John’s Gospel, we are presented with a story of Jesus healing a blind man, and its aftermath. Many witnessed the healing, or at least its result. Yet, many did not believe, for various reasons. How can this be?
Two examples will help to explain this. The first is somewhat silly; the second is more serious. Imagine that you are out for a walk. You look up, and you see what looks for all the world like an alien spacecraft flying overhead. You pass near a lake, and see what looks like the head of the Loch Ness monster poking out of the water. Then, you look to a nearby area of woods, and there is Bigfoot, waving at you! You would probably not believe – or not want to believe – what you were seeing. You would convince yourself that you saw an illusion, or that someone was playing a practical joke on you. After all, people who claim to actually see such things are not generally regarded as reliable or even sane by most other folks.
Now, imagine that you are out for a walk, and someone of a different race or ethnic background passes by. What is your first, spontaneous, unguarded reaction? You may not be racist by any means, but most people have absorbed – even unconsciously – certain assumptions or attitudes about people of other racial or ethnic background that aren’t quite true. We only notice them when we are actually in the presence of someone with that background. Noticing them gives us the opportunity to confront them and change them as needed.
My point is that there is more to seeing than just the pure act of seeing. Our eyes are taking in everything around us, but our brains are busily interpreting and assigning meaning to all that data coming in. This is necessary for us to understand what we are seeing. However, this interpretation can include lots of assumptions and pre-judgments about what is, what must be, what can’t be, or what we really wish were the case. Those assumptions affect what we see and how we see. Some assumptions are accurate, others are not. How open are we to seeing what really is there in front of us – whether we like what we see or not? How open are we to seeing what is really within us – whether we like what we see or not? What are we looking for? Our Gospel story is like a short drama that explores these issues in considerable depth.
As the story opens, Jesus and his disciples come upon a man who has been blind since birth. The disciples look at this man and one assumption jumps to the fore: moral failure. “Who sinned”, they ask Jesus, “he or his parents, that he was born blind?” (Of course, the flip side of such an assumption is that the disciples – who are not physically blind – rank themselves as morally superior to the blind man.) Jesus tells them that they’re asking the wrong question. This isn’t about assumptions of moral superiority. Rather, Jesus tells them, this blindness exists so that “the works of God might be made visible through him”. Jesus, as we will see, is not referring only to the physical healing he is about to give to the blind man. Jesus is pointing to the witness that the man will give him after the cure. Jesus sees potential in the man that his disciples dismiss as morally inferior.
The healing itself is told simply and quickly. What is more important for John is how people react to the miracle they have all witnessed. Their reactions lay bare their assumptions about what is or isn’t possible for all to see.
Some people who knew the blind man assume that Jesus is trying to con them in some way by having someone else show up who looks like the blind man and then who claims to be healed by Jesus. They question whether he really is the same man.
The Pharisees and other religious leaders try to deny that a miracle has taken place by questioning whether the man who says he has been healed was ever blind to begin with. After all, they reason, Jesus cannot be from God because he allegedly healed a man on a Sabbath, thus (in their eyes) breaking the Sabbath laws. (In fact, Jesus will point out on other occasions when he heals on a Sabbath that to free someone from a grave affliction on a Sabbath – thus giving them a taste of Sabbath rest – is in perfect harmony with the original intent of the Sabbath in the first place.) Later, when the healed man challenges the Pharisees by his witness, they will then use his blindness – which they previously denied – as a pretext to dismiss him as “steeped in sin” and not worth heeding. In their determination not to see what Jesus has done, they twist themselves into contradictions that they refuse to acknowledge.
The man’s parents are willing to acknowledge that this is truly their son and that he was truly born blind, but they claim not to know how his sight was given to him now. They acknowledge what they see, but only to a point. When the conclusion seems potentially dangerous to them, they stop and don’t openly connect the dots.
What is appealing, even astonishing, about the man who was blind is his utter openness to what he sees. We sense no prejudice about him, no assumptions that block his vision. He accepts what he sees for what it is, and will not deny it even when he is threatened. In fact, the opposition he encounters actually sharpens his view. When we first meet him, he doesn’t even ask for a healing. He isn’t expecting one. Jesus simply cures him in an act of sheer grace. And the man acknowledges this right away: “I was blind, and now I see”. Jesus is his healer. Then, as the man is questioned, he begins to connect the dots and is willing to go with what he sees. Jesus must be a prophet, a man sent by God, the man says, because no one could do this sort of thing if God were not with him. When the Pharisees expel him from the synagogue for saying such things, Jesus seeks him out and asks if he believes in the Son of Man. The man now sees Jesus as utterly trustworthy, and asks, “Who is he, sir, that I may believe in him?” When Jesus tells him that he, Jesus, is the Son of Man, the healed man confesses his faith and worships Jesus. Thus, as Jesus said, are the works of God made visible through this man. The man has connected all the dots now, with Jesus’ help. Jesus is not only from God, Jesus is God – the Word made flesh. It is no wonder that the Church offers him to us during Lent for our consideration. He helps us see what faith in Jesus entails, and his example encourages us.
And what about us – you and me? We all have some faith in the Lord (one of my assumptions is that you wouldn’t be reading this if that were not true). Jesus invites us to a life of grater faith. He tells us that he wants us to know his own joy, so that our joy may be complete. He calls us his chosen ones, his holy ones, his very sisters and brothers.
What assumptions keep us from fully seeing this and believing it? Some of us may see ourselves as moral failures. We may be guilty of some great sin or mistake that we wish we could erase, but we still feel its effects even decades later. Or, we have taken upon ourselves guilt for something we haven’t done, or something which is not a moral failure at all – a weakness, a physical or psychological illness or injury. We are tempted to feel that Jesus’ promises are for someone else, not for unworthy souls like us. But Jesus looks at us and sees primarily not failure but fields ripe for harvest. Can we trust what we see in Jesus?
Perhaps we believe this, at least to a point, but we don’t feel the kind of joy we thought we would or should feel. The Lord may seem distant, and we don’t know why. We may feel overwhelmed at times by anxieties or hurts or anger or sadness. We may assume that, if we really believed, or if the Lord were really with us, we wouldn’t feel these things. Can we see Gethsemane? Can we see the Cross? Can we see a joy that is deeper than any of these painful emotions, a joy that sustains us though every “danger, toil and snare”?
Perhaps we believe this, and sense that joy that Jesus promises us. But we may be afraid to connect all the dots and allow the result to reshape our lives. If we do, then we will – both consciously and unconsciously – find ourselves witnessing to the Lord. Others will see the change. We will find ourselves being able to point out both the good and the not-so-good in our society, and by living Christian lives offer a different vision, a different way. Some will resist that way. They may dismiss us as crazy, or hopelessly out of date. They may look for faults in us (and will find them) as “proof” that we’re only hypocrites after all. They will look for any way they can find to deny that they are seeing what they are seeing in us – for to accept what they see implies to accept what we believe. In this sense, seeing becomes believing. If we let ourselves see what truly is, we will see the Lord, believe in Him, and live accordingly. He will help us turn from our sins and grow in His love.
So, my friends. Look at this healing of the blind man again. What do you see? What are you looking for? Be ready to follow where the Lord leads you in faith. His joy will be with you, even now – a joy that is only a mild preview of what he has waiting for you (and all of us) on that day when we shall see Him as He is.