Homily: 4th Sunday of Lent

Readings: 1 Sm 16:1b, 6-7, 10-13a; Ps 23; Eph 5:8-14; Jn 9:1-41

Today, smack dab in the middle of Lent, the Church calls us to rejoice…for today is Laetare Sunday. And laetare simply means “rejoice” or “delight yourself.” Father Peter and I should actually be wearing rose-colored vestments on this day, but since we don’t have any, we’re allowed to wear the usual Lenten violet vestments. But, despite our more solemn color, there’s really a lot over which we can rejoice.

Samuel anointing David

For example, in our reading from the First Book of Samuel, we’re shown clearly that God’s ways are not our ways. Now, personally, I think that’s a great reason to rejoice. I mean… really…would you want God to be just like us? Would you want Him to be hateful one minute and loving the next? Would you want Him to judge you based on human law, really a collection of ever-changing, rather arbitrary standards? Would you want Him to make decisions about you and those you love based on information filtered by deep-seated biases and prejudices? Would you want Him to show you no mercy because of your sinfulness, even after you have repented?

After all, that’s what Lent’s all about – repentance and forgiveness and conversion – three more wonderful reasons to be joyful. No, I think it’s altogether appropriate to rejoice that, unlike us, God loves and forgives, that He knows all and sees all, that He is, in a word, perfect. If only we could love as God loves and see as God sees. Perhaps that should be one of our prayers this Lent, that God will permit us to see as He sees.

Seeing is one of those things that most of us take for granted. We don’t really think much about it…until we no longer have it.

Many, many years ago when I was going through Navy flight training, one of the more exciting milestones was the day we made our first carrier landings. Now I made those first landings in old T-28, which was a big, old single-engine prop aircraft that looked like a World War Two fighter. Right after my sixth and final landing, I began the flight back to our land base only about 15 minutes away. That was when my engine decided to have a major oil leak. Black oil covered the windscreen of the canopy so I couldn’t see anything in front of me.

Now that’s not real comforting since it’s always nice when you’re flying to see where you’re going. And so for the next few minutes I flew blind over the Gulf of Mexico, preparing for an instrument approach, and hoping the engine wouldn’t quit completely. Despite my inexperience my guardian angel and I flew the approach and managed to land safely. About 30 seconds later, right after I cleared the runway, the engine seized up completely.

It was a good feeling when I climbed out of that cockpit and could see once again. I was so glad to have returned safely that I’d forgotten all about those successful carrier landings. Suddenly they weren’t all that important. That day, it was all about seeing.

And that’s actually what our passage from John’s Gospel is all about. It’s about seeing.

This encounter related by John has quite a cast of characters. First there’s Jesus, then there’s the beggar, the man who can’t see, the man born blind, along with the disciples. Then the man’s neighbors are introduced, followed by the Pharisees and finally the man’s parents. It’s quite cast for such a short story.

At first it seemed that all of these people could see, except for the blind beggar. But by the time John finishes telling us about this encounter with Jesus, the beggar can see clearly but most of the others have been blinded by their own lack of faith.

It’s actually a rather strange story. Here’s a man who has suffered mightily his entire life. Being severely disabled in those days was like a life sentence. You were doomed to be a beggar. And yet he’s not the object of much compassion, is he? He’s just been cured of his lifelong blindness, and Instead of being allowed to rejoice, he’s forced to defend himself. Neither his friends and neighbors nor his parents seem very interested in coming to his defense as he’s verbally attacked by the Pharisees.

You’d think everyone would want to share his joy at having been cured. But, no, they actually distance themselves from him, concerned less with him and more with their reputations. Yes, it’s certainly an odd story. There’s a miraculous cure, but there’s no celebration.

There’s something else a little different about this story. Instead of listening to Jesus preach, we find ourselves listening to the beggar. Yes, we’re introduced to this remarkable man of faith, a blind beggar who is given the gift of seeing as God sees. This man, this beggar, ignored by those who walk by him every day, is in a very real sense re-created.

Did you notice how Jesus effects the cure? As the Father did in Genesis, Jesus uses the dust of the earth, adds His own spittle to make clay, and with this creates a new man. Yes, Jesus has come to do the work of the Father, continuing the ongoing work of creation. “I am the Light of the world,” Jesus reminds the disciples right before He gives sight and light to the blind man.

And for this one man, it’s as if Jesus, the creative Word of God, had repeated the words of creation itself: “Let there be light!” Just imagine how that light crashed into the very being of this man who had lived so long in darkness.

As he comes to understand more fully what has happened to him, he also comes to understand who Jesus really is. We watch, as he moves, one step at a time, through a process of conversion. At first he recognizes the Lord simply as “that man they call Jesus.” Later, when first questioned by the Pharisees, he calls Jesus a prophet. And then, when called before the Pharisees to be questioned a second time, he declares openly that Jesus is a man from God. Finally, filled with the Holy Spirit, face to face with his healer, he calls Jesus, “Lord,” and bows down and worships Him.

You see, it’s through this process of conversion that the man was also cured of his spiritual blindness. As he moves toward true discipleship his faith deepens and he becomes more confident. You can hear his confidence in the words he uses to respond to the Pharisees.

Jesus sent the blind man to wash in the waters of Siloam, a name that actually means “Sent.”  And so, with his re-creation, the man becomes a disciple. Like Jesus he too is sent, sent into the world to do the Father’s work…just as we are, brothers and sisters. We have been washed in the waters of baptism. Our eyes have been opened, and we too are sent.

But all too often, like the blind man’s parents and friends, we are blinded, if only temporarily, by fear. Too often we’re afraid, or even ashamed, to profess Jesus Christ as Lord and Savior…to proclaim Jesus as the very Light of the world. But still, the Lord comes to us, touches us, heals us, and does so again and again, over and over, never tiring of extending His forgiveness, always calling us to conversion.

This is the same message we hear from Paul in today’s second reading. Paul calls us to be children of God, “children of light,” he says, bringing “every kind of goodness” into the world.

Today, as we continue our Lenten pilgrimage, what kind of goodness have we produced? Have we deepened our prayer life? Have we come to the Lord seeking forgiveness in the sacrament of reconciliation? Have we spent some prayerful time in God’s presence in the Eucharist? Have we spent some time each day with the Gospels, reading and living the Word of God?

Have we let God teach us to love as He loves, to forgive as He forgives? By loving, forgiving and caring for those in need, by living lives of faith, hope and love, we make God’s kingdom visible and real here on earth. It’s through our lives as faith-filled Christians that we proclaim to all the Good News of salvation through Jesus Christ, the Light of the World. We are sent, brothers and sisters, sent into the world to bring peace, reconciliation, justice and God’s love.

May God continue the good work He has already started in all of us, and may we continue to live as the children of light He created us to be. May He cure us of our blindness, so that like the beggar in the Gospel, we too can proclaim, “I do believe, Lord.” And in all of this may we rejoice today that God has given us this wonderful gift of life itself.

In our creation we are truly blessed with life; through our re-creation God offers us eternal life.