The Fourth Sunday of Lent
Year A

Turning a Blind Eye

Readings: 1 Samuel 16:1-13; Psalm 23; Ephesians 5:8-14; John 9:1-41

The most common malady facing humankind is that of suffering.  It is so much a part of the human condition that we become hardened to it, at least when it comes to the suffering of others.  That seems to me to be especially true in the modern age.  Suffering is all around us, graphically portrayed.  We hear it on every newscast.  We see it in every headline.  Most of the time we are able to turn a blind eye to the pain and suffering in the world around us.  Unless it touches us personally we don’t consider why it happens.  Once in a while when it happens close to home like 9-11 or when it reaches epic proportions like the Tsunami we do actually stop to consider.  At such times we are prone to ask, whose fault is it?  Did they do something bad?  Are they evil?  Why is it so easy for us to assume that things that happen to other people happen as punishment from God?  On that score times have not changed all that much. 

Jesus and his disciples are walking along together.  They see a man born blind.  “Who sinned?” the disciples ask Jesus.  “This man or his parents?”  They have to find some explanation for his condition.  They need someone to blame.    

“Neither,” says Jesus.  He knows that suffering is not some arbitrary punishment meted out by a vindictive God.  It is simply part and parcel of life.  Life happens.  It happens to good people and to bad.  And Jesus goes on to say that at least in this instance it has a purpose.  The work of God is going to be revealed through this blind man gaining his sight.  And then he does something about the man’s condition.  He spreads mud on his eyes and sends him off to the Pool of Siloam to wash.  The man comes back able to see. 

Notice that Jesus does not try to give any theological explanation for the suffering or pain or problems the man is enduring.  He simply heals him and accepts it as a matter of course that people suffer.  Not so the good people around him! They are totally blind to the miracle that has taken place.  In their need to lay blame, to explain the man’s condition, to vindicate themselves, they begin to question everyone. 

“Is this your son, the one you say was born blind?” they ask his parents.  “How come he can see?”  When that doesn’t work they attack Jesus.  “He’s a sinner!” They assert.  They simply refuse to see.  They prefer to stumble around in the darkness.  Even when Jesus points out the nature of their blindness they do not recognize themselves.  “We’re not blind, are we?” 

Sight is one of God's most precious gifts to us.  What a joy to see the beauty of God’s creation!  Seeing our parents, our children, our friends, brings us happiness.  To see where we can go, what we can do, and what we can make of ourselves gives us a sense of freedom. 

It is so difficult to imagine what it must be like to be blind.  A couple of weeks ago I watched a movie on the life of Helen Keller.  She, as you will recall, was not only blind, but also deaf.  Until her teacher opened the way for her to understand, to begin to see the light, she was locked inside herself, trapped like a frightened animal, unable to respond to the love of her family.    

Imagine being blind and spending one's entire life in the darkness.  Imagine that darkness suddenly being lifted.  For that is the scene in the Gospel.  The man Jesus healed was born blind.  He had never been able to see.  Gaining his sight is a miracle, and yet the miracle goes so much deeper.  The man receives much more than physical sight; he receives an insight that allows him to view Jesus, first as a good person, then as a prophet, and finally as the Messiah. 

"You have seen him, and the one speaking with you is he," Jesus tells him.  It is a beautiful moment of faith and insight as the man chooses to come into the light and truly see with eyes of faith. 

Paul speaks of the Ephesians in the same way.  “Once you were darkness, but now in the Lord you are light.”  He is reflecting on spiritual blindness.  Salvation is God’s free gift, but it does not come without cost.  It bears with it a sense of responsibility.  When we become enlightened we need to live in a different way.  When we are offered the opportunity of seeing then we must act on what we have witnessed, and live as children of light.  We must share that light.  We must reach out to others with compassion and love. 

Some people choose to remain in darkness.  They choose to be blind to anything that comes from outside themselves.  There can be no truth other than theirs.  It is a tragic phenomenon not limited to any particular Christian generation.  In fact we all have blind spots.  Many attitudes may be seen as a kind of blindness whether they be prejudice, hatred, greed, self-centredness.  All of those are things that keep us from treating others with love and compassion.  They keep us from seeing where God is leading us.  We refuse to change our thinking.  We blame those around us.  “Why can’t they see the way we do?”  People leave the church over such issues.  They don’t try to listen to others, to hear their stories of suffering, to hear the depth of their faith and commitment.  Part of the problem is that we don’t take time in quiet reflection to bring the issues before God.  We don’t study the issues facing the Christian Church.  We don’t keep an open mind to societal changes.  We don’t try to discern God’s will for us or for our community of faith. 

What can open our eyes so that we are able to see?  Have you ever had an experience where you suddenly saw with deep insight?  Did you know how the insight came about?  It is a wonderful experience.  I like to call them ‘aha’ moments.  That is what happened to the man born blind, you know.  He had an ‘aha’ moment.  He saw and he believed.  We all need those moments, those moments of coming to faith, of seeing and believing.  In so many seemingly ordinary moments, in so many disguises, Jesus speaks to us.  Our eyes are opened.  We see.  We understand.  We believe.  Always such moments come to us as a surprise, for God’s ways are surprising.  Blind people see; religious leaders are blind.  God changes our notions and transforms us if we are able to allow it to happen. 

Then it all makes sense somehow.  It doesn’t change the fact that people suffer.  But it makes us search for ways to alleviate that suffering.  It makes us re-evaluate what is important in our lives.  It brings us together as a community.  It makes us look beyond ourselves.  Isn’t that what happened with the Tsunami?  The whole world worked together to help people in their time of trial.  The whole world forgot about the differences in people.  We forgot about our prejudices.  We simply reached out in whatever way we could to help people in need.  We cried with people in their pain and loss.  We rejoiced with them as they were re-united with loved ones. 

We cannot discover in Jesus any logical answer or explanation for suffering or pain or problems, but his presence in our lives will always produce miracles.  His love can overcome blindness; his love can bring salvation to someone born blind, and even to someone who is blind like me.  

It is our human experience to thirst – for hope, for peace, for meaning in our lives.  Marvellous things happen when people begin to awaken to the gifts that God has placed within them.  They receive the Spirit in word, and in sacrament, and then they begin to live it out in their lives.  It bubbles out of them as care and concern for others. 

Water sustains and nourishes life.  It refreshes and restores.  It is no mistake that it is to the Christian the symbol of our baptism, of our new life in Christ.  In baptism we are immersed in water as a sign of death, the death of the old person.  We rise up from the water of baptism to new life.  Our faith deepens as we experience Christ present in the community, in the word, proclaimed and lived, and in the sacraments of the church.  That living water is within each of us.  That grace of God is given in our Baptism and renewed through the life-giving Spirit of God.