4th Sunday Lent - Year A

 

...then the LORD God formed the human being out of the dust of the ground and blew into his nostrils the breath of life, and the human became a living being (Gn 2:7)

 

            In this account of the creation of humanity from the Book of Genesis God the Creator is portrayed as a potter, molding humanity out of earth.  Forming us out of clay.  In the Gospel account we hear today, Jesus, God the Son, comes into our midst as the potter again, this time, not to create, but to mend, to heal, a fragile, damaged humanity; fragile damaged earthen vessels, as St. Paul describes us. 

            The same God who formed us out of the dust-of-the-earth-made-clay, returns, coming among us; the blind and broken; the disciples and the merely curious; the scribes and pharisees; the dusty, weary, busy, distracted masses.  To these Christ comes, breaking into our distraction and self focus, and again makes clay.  This time, he lovingly takes his creation, and with that clay, mends the brokenness; the cracks, the chips, the holes.  Heals our blindness; restoring our sight.  Making us whole again.

            The great irony of the Gospel passage is that the man born blind is truly not the broken, incomplete one, the sinner, in this story.  No, he is simply an object lesson that God, Christ, uses to do two things:  to get our distracted attention, to make us stop, and in that pause, reveal to us and invite us to examine our own spiritual blindnesses.  What we have done, and what we have failed to do.   And secondly to make visible the works of God through Christ (Jn 9:3b).  The Glory of God made-manifest through Christ, in a different way, but to the same end, as in the Transfiguration of Christ we heard about two Sundays ago.   

            This action of God through Christ in healing the man born blind prefigures the action of God through Christ in our lives in the Sacraments.  In the Sacraments, through Christ, God appeals to our human senses of sight, sound, taste and touch to impart grace; strength and healing; pardon and peace.  Especially in the Sacraments of Healing:  Reconciliation (or Penance) and Anointing of the Sick. 

St. Augustine of Hippo saw in the mixing of the clay paste by Christ a metaphor for the incarnation.  The divinity of God, the power and grace of God, mixing with the earth, forming the clay paste, which then becomes one with us who were formed from the earth, healing us, mending us, binding us together, each as members of the Body of Christ and with the Head of our Body, Christ himself.  Indeed, an apt metaphor for the Incarnation.  Also an apt metaphor for the Sacraments of Reconciliation and the Eucharist.

The second half of this Gospel passage challenges us.  The Pharisees refuse to believe the action of God through Christ because he was not conforming to the rules - the Mosaic Law - and conforming to who they felt the Messiah should be.  They not only refuse to believe the action of God through Christ as proof of Christ’s Divine origin, they seek to discredit the man born blind!  It seems that it's a willful disbelief.  How are we challenged by this?  Are there times and ways in our lives when we refuse to see, not just fail to see, but refuse to see, the action and presence of God in our midst?  Do we refuse to see Christ in each other at times, perhaps because of a preconceived notion we may have about who and how God can act through?  

These are tough questions.  These can be convicting questions.  But if we gloss over them like the Pharisees, choosing not to ask them and/or refusing to examine conscience, we suffer the same fate as the Pharisees:  we remain blind to our sin and how we have hurt others and God, and our sin remains.

If we ask these questions honestly, and allow ourselves to examine our consciences, there will be pain; the pain of remorse and regret. A heartfelt sorrow.  Hopefully.  I say ‘hopefully’ because God allows us to experience this pain, in order for there to be contrition, healing, and spiritual growth, as we journey on a path towards sainthood.  There is hope, in the experience of this pain, for it is the beginning of healing, the beginning signs of new life for us, as we are freed from the burden of our sin.  We pray the Stations of the Cross during Lent, recalling and meditating on the suffering of Christ on his journey to Calvary.  We know the end, the death and resurrection of Christ and our salvation through Him.  At the same time, do we recall that there was no way to that salvation but through the suffering He endured, and we endure at times as part of being freed from the burden of our sin.  

St. Paul exhorts us; “Live as children of light...everything exposed by the light becomes visible, for everything that becomes visible is light” (Eph 5: 8b, 13-14a).  Christ challenges and invites us through examination of our conscience, prayer and the sacraments to expose everything in our lives to his Light.  With our spiritual eyes now opened, Christ invites us to believe in Him and trust in his mercy, that the burdens we carry may indeed be lightened and our paths enlightened by Him who is Light of the World.