Homily for Fourth Sunday of Lent - Year A

The readings for the Fourth Sunday of Lent - Year A may be found at:

https://bible.usccb.org/bible/readings/031526.cfm

This week, the evangelist Saint John  

gives us a rather long gospel.

But it’s long for a reason -

because the Church wants us to sit in it - 

and maybe, just maybe, to see ourselves.

St. John tells us that

Jesus encounters a man blind from birth.

As the disciples wonder out loud

like we often do when something goes wrong,

whose fault is this?  

Who is to blame?

But Jesus dismisses them out of hand, saying

“Neither he nor his parents sinned; 

it is so that the works of God 

might be made visible through him.”

Or in other words - 

Stop looking for someone to blame.

Start looking for what God wants us to see.

Now, most of us are not physically blind,

But spiritually?

Sure, we can see - but we don’t always perceive.

We see success - but we don’t see pride.

We see conflict - but we don’t see our part in it.

We see other people’s sins - but we don’t see our own.

We see the surface - but we don’t see the heart.

And when confronted with blindness,

St. John tells us that

Jesus does something unexpected.

He spits on the ground, makes clay and

smears it on the man’s eyes.

It’s almost uncomfortable - spit - dirt - fingers - eyes.

But that’s often how grace works.

It’s not sterile.  

It’s not superficial.

It can be messy, 

When Jesus applies the mud of truth to our blindness  

and sends us to wash -

  

to repentance, to confession, to humility.

When the blind man does as Jesus says,

he is healed

spiritually, not just physically.

At first, when people question him,  

he says, “The man called Jesus did this.”

Later, St. John tells us 

the man calls Jesus a prophet.

Later still he says, 

 

“If this man were not from God…”

To finally - “I do believe, Lord.”  

He goes from what he sees, 

to curiosity, to belief, to worship.

Meanwhile the religious ones -

  

go in the opposite direction.

Clinging to their own comforts and judgements.

Refusing to see as God sees.  

And Jesus tells us quite plainly,

“I came into this world for judgment, 

so that those who do not see might see, 

and those who do see might become blind.”

Because -

Real blindness is thinking we don’t need God’s mercy.

Real blindness is refusing it.

The blind man knew he couldn’t see.  

That was his advantage.

The Pharisees thought they saw clearly.  

That was their downfall.

At this halfway point of Lent,  

we must face the fact that these forty days  

are not for people who think they have it all together.

It’s for people who know they don’t.

So, the question we must ask is not, are we blind?

The question we must ask is, do we even know that we are!

Because if we know it, Jesus can heal us.

If we admit it, He can restore us.

If we let Him apply that messy mix of spit and dirt -

 

even when it feels uncomfortable -

like it can in the confessional - 

  

we get washed in the waters of grace,  

and we can see more clearly.

Maybe we are blind in our prayer life -

going through the motions with a distant heart.

 

Maybe we are blind in our pride -

  

clinging to how we feel, rather than the truth.

Maybe we are blind in our resentment -

  

that person we have quietly written off,  

even if we still smile that fake smile like all is ok.

Life can be hard on this side of the dirt.

But we see what happens

after the blind man is healed and  

rejected by the powers that be.

Jesus comes looking for him

and finds him.

That’s this Gospel.

When we step out in faith - 

When we stand for truth - 

When following Christ costs us something - 

He comes looking for us.

And He reveals Himself to us more deeply.

Today the Church celebrates Laetare Sunday - 

the Sunday of rejoicing.

The rose-colored vestments remind us 

that even in the middle of Lent, joy is breaking through.

And we rejoice not because we are perfect.

We rejoice because God is not finished with us yet.

Even in our blindness.

Even in our weakness.

Even in our sin.

He is still making that muddy mixture of grace.

He is still sending us to wash.

He is still opening our eyes.

Teaching us to really see - 

not as the world sees -

but as He does.