Faith-Healing-The Man born blind

HOMILY LENT SUNDAY 04 – Year A

Living as Children of the Light

(1 Samuel 16:1b, 6-7, 10-13a; Psalm 23; Eph 5:8-14; John 9:1-41)

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“You are who you are who you are – what are you afraid of?” Richard Rohr, noted Franciscan priest, spiritual writer and speaker, uttered these words as he started a retreat to our Oblate province some years ago. That statement shocked me into greater self-awareness, self-knowledge, and in the end, greater self-love.

On this fourth Sunday of Lent, those words along with the healing of the blind man, invite us to pray for the courage to make an inner journey into deeper faith in Jesus and his power to heal, greater self-awareness, and to live as children of the light.

The readings today are all about sight, about seeing, and about identity – the identity of Jesus, and our identity. In the first reading, we are told God sees into the heart and does not judge by appearances. So, when Samuel seeks to find the future king of Israel, seven sons of Jesse, impressive as they are, do not qualify. Only the eight, the last and the least, is the one chosen by God. In the end, David is anointed by Samuel and the Spirit comes down on him mightily.

There are some powerful biblical connections contained in this reading. The seven sons suggest that the foundations of a new creation are being laid, a favorite theme of St. John’s gospel. David, as the eight, will be the beginning of a new era of salvation history culminating in Jesus, whom he prefigures. The Spirit descending on David also prefigures the baptism of Jesus in the Jordan during which the Spirit descended on him in the form of a dove.

In the Gospel, we hear the story of the healing of a man born blind. His physical healing, although it happens first, takes second place to his faith in Jesus. He is not only healed physically, but also progressively comes to see who Jesus is – first as “the man called Jesus,” then “not knowing where he is,” then a “Prophet,” and finally he comes to believe in Jesus and even worships him as the “Son of Man,” which is equal to the Word made flesh, an allusion to the reality of the Incarnation. This is an amazing faith in Jesus as Son of God, the first time in the New Testament, something even the disciples struggled with right up to the Ascension, where some hesitated to worship Jesus.

St. John is careful to mention a detail that is quite significant – Jesus “spat on the ground and made mud with the saliva and spread the mud on the man’s eyes” and told him to wash in the pool of Siloam. Bishop Robert Barron points out it was St. Augustine who saw in the making of the mud paste a metaphor for the Incarnation: the divine power mixing with the earth, resulting in the formation of a healing balm. When this salve of God made flesh is rubbed onto our eyes blinded by sin, we come again to see. The blind man’s humble obedience (finding his way to the pool must have been a challenge needing the help of others) was, I believe, also a part of his healing.

His trust in Jesus and humble obedience is in stark contrast to the Pharisees who see only the Sabbath law broken and refuse to believe. They even agreed to put out of the synagogue anyone who especially confessed Jesus as the Messiah. Their greatest sin was unbelief, the refusal to see beyond their religiosity based on the keeping of laws, rules and regulations that they had, in their lack of faith, reduced to the false gods of possessions, prestige, power and control to which they were overly attached.

In the second reading St. Paul brings it home to us. If Jesus is the Light of the world, and the Messiah sent to redeem and sanctify, to forgive and to heal, then we are to come to him for the forgiveness of all our sins, the healing of all our sinfulness (that which makes us sin – our painful emotions and negative attitudes). Then, forgiven and healed by Jesus, we are to live as “children of the light,” totally given to and focused on what is “good and right and true.” We are to let go of any darkness in our lives, and even exposing by our inner light shining out, the darkness in our world that others in their own blindness are not seeing.

Perhaps the greatest presence of blindness in our world today is spiritual blindness. We find it so hard to accept feedback, to acknowledge our own inner reality, whatever it is. We tend to project onto others judgments that we fail to see in ourselves. We are sometimes unable to accept compliments, not believing that we are worthy of those compliments. Or we blithely go on hurting others by our negative attitudes we don’t even think are there, or acting out of painful emotions we refuse to acknowledge.

The last part of the Great Commandment that Jesus gave us was to love ourselves. That might be the most difficult commandment to live out. Shakespeare was so right with his comment: “Would that we could see ourselves as others see us.” The greatest tragedy is not to be blind, but to have eyes and not see. Greater still is to have eyes and refuse to see like the Pharisees.

The Eucharist is an act of faith in Jesus as light of the world, Messiah, prophet, Son of Man and Lord. His love for us shown so clearly on the cross is made present for us now. As we ponder his Word, we are empowered to share our faith and love with others in any way we can, although those means are certainly limited by the Caronavirus crisis.

So, as we physically journey towards Easter, let us pray for the courage to make that inner Lenten journey toward deeper faith in Jesus and greater self-awareness, experience his forgiveness and healing, and live as children of light.