cappie
Feb 29 2008, 10:02 PM
Opening the Eyes of Faith
Gospel Commentary for 4th Sunday of Lent
By Father Raniero Cantalamessa, OFM Cap
ROME, FEB. 29, 2008 (Zenit.org).- The healing of the man blind from birth hits close to home, because in a certain sense all of us are blind from birth.
The very world was born blind. According to what science tells us today, during millions of years there was life on earth, but it was life in a blind state. The eye for seeing did not exist yet, sight itself did not exist. The eye, in its complexity and perfection, is one of the functions formed more slowly.
This situation is reproduced in part in the life of every man. A child is born, though not precisely blind, at least incapable of distinguishing things clearly. Only after weeks he begins to focus. If the child could express what he experiences when he begins to see clearly the face of his mother, of people, of things, of colors -- how many "oh's" of awe would be heard! What a hymn to light and sight.
To see is a miracle, only we don't pay attention to it because we are too accustomed to it and we take it for granted. It is here that God sometimes acts in a sudden and extraordinary way, aiming to take us out of drowsiness and make us alert. That is what he did with the healing of the man blind from birth and of other blind people in the Gospel.
But is this the only reason that Jesus healed the man blind from birth? There is another sense in which we were born blind. There are other eyes -- besides the physical ones -- that should open themselves to the world: the eyes of faith! They allow a glimpse of another world beyond that which we see with the eyes of the body: the world of God, of eternal life, the world of the Gospel, the world that does not end -- not even with the end of the world.
This is what Jesus wanted to remind us of with the healing of the man blind from birth. Before anything else, he sent the young blind man to the pool of Siloam. With this, Jesus wanted to signify that these different eyes, those of faith, begin to open up in baptism, precisely when we receive the gift of faith. That's why in ancient times baptism was also called "illumination," and being baptized meant "having been illuminated."
In our case, it's not about believing generically in God, but believing in Christ. The Evangelist avails of the episode to show us how to arrive to a full and mature faith in the Son of God. The blind man's recovery of his sight happens, in fact, at the same time that he discovers who Jesus is. In the beginning, for the blind man, Jesus is no more than a man. "The man called Jesus made clay …"
Later, he was asked, "What do you have to say about him, since he opened your eyes?" He responded, "He is a prophet." He has taken a step forward; he has understood that Jesus is sent form God, which he speaks and acts in his name.
Finally, finding Jesus again, he exclaims, "I do believe Lord," and he bows before him to worship him, thus openly recognizing him as his Lord and God.
In describing all of this with so much detail, it is as if John the Evangelist very discreetly invites us to ask ourselves the question: "And me? In what point am I on this path? Who is Jesus of Nazareth for me?"
That Jesus is a man, no one denies. That he is a prophet, one sent from God, is also admitted almost universally. Many stay at that point. But it is not enough. A Muslim, if he is coherent with what is found written in the Koran, also recognizes that Jesus is a prophet. But not for that is one considered a Christian.
The leap by which one passes to be a Christian in the true sense is when he proclaims, like the man blind from birth, that Jesus is "Lord" and adores him as God. Christian faith is not primarily to believe in something -- that God exists, that there is something beyond -- but to believe in someone. Jesus in the Gospel does not give us a list of things to believe; he says, "Believe in God; believe also in me" (John 14:1).
For Christians, to believe is to believe in Jesus Christ.
[Translation by ZENIT]
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Father Raniero Cantalamessa is the Pontifical Household preacher. The readings for this Sunday are 1 Samuel 16:1b.4a.6-7.10-13; Ephesians 5:8-14; John 9:1-41.
cappie
Feb 29 2008, 10:35 PM
This is the Fourth Sunday in Lent. Traditionally this day is known as “Laetare Sunday,” from the Latin word for “Rejoice!” the introductory antiphon for today’s Liturgy, (based on the words of Isaiah 66:10). The antiphon and the readings both express Church's joy in anticipation of the Resurrection.
I have never been able to reconcile the long faces some of us put on in Lent with the prayers of the Church that describe this as “a joyful season”. The following story takes seriously that laughter is an essential element of our Lenten observance.
Once upon a time in a nice little forest, there lived an orphaned bunny and an orphaned snake. By surprising coincidence, both were blind from birth.
One day, the bunny was hopping through the forest while the snake was slithering along the same path. The bunny tripped over the snake and fell down. "Oh, my," said the bunny, "I'm terribly sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you. I've been blind since birth, so, I can't see where I'm going. In fact, I'm also an orphan, so I don't even know what I am." "It's quite okay," replied the snake, "my story is much the same as yours. I’ve been blind since birth and never knew my mother. Tell you what, I could slither over you, and figure out what you are.”
"Oh, that would be wonderful." replied the bunny. So the snake slithered all over the bunny, and said, "Well, you're covered with soft fur; you have really long ears; your nose twitches; and you have a soft cottony tail. I'd say that you must be a bunny."
"Oh, thank you! Thank you," cried the bunny in obvious excitement. The bunny then suggested to the snake, "Maybe I could feel you with my paw, and help you in the same way you've helped me." So the bunny felt the snake all over, and remarked, "Well, you're scaly and smooth, you have a forked tongue, you’re impossible to pin down and you have no backbone at all. I'd say you must be either a contractor, a consultant or possibly someone in senior management."
On reflection the Gospel of the man born blind is a joyful one too. Imagine this man’s elation at having his sight restored. As the story develops the all-seeing Pharisees move to spiritual blindness by putting on the blinkers of the law. They cannot recognise Jesus or his works of mercy because of their tunnel vision. Jesus doesn’t fit their worldview. Meanwhile the blind beggar, who has sight restored, goes on to gain insight about who Jesus is and the way that God works in the world; he begins to see how shallow and pathetic the Pharisees really are.
This Gospel also contains a critical theological lesson: disability and illness do not come from personal sinfulness. It’s surprising that we need to keep saying this, but too readily we hear otherwise intelligent and good Christians, for example, telling us that some illnesses have been “sent” by God as punishment for sins or they wonder what their families have “done” to deserve disabled children. It’s true that God permits us to live in an imperfect world where we are prone to illness and disability. But that same world gives us the freedom to be creative in the face of adversity, to be compassionate with those who are sick or disabled and free to believe that there is a purpose for each human life. God, the source of all love, does not actively send bad things to us, instead, he is our constant companion in dealing with them; giving us the courage and strength to cope with, and sometimes overcome, them.
The task of this joyful season is to bring our good humour and compassion to bear on the blind spots in our own lives and be on our guard for the times when we are too confident about who God is, how he works or what he can or cannot do. May it never be said of us that we were so consumed by our own religious vision that we missed God’s woods for the trees.
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The story of “Amazing Grace” (The story of one person’s healing from personal as well as cultural blindness). John Newton was born in 1740 in England. He grew up in the Anglican Church. As a little boy he went to church and learned Bible lessons. His mother died when he was only eleven years old, and so he traveled with his father who was the captain and owner of a cargo ship. The cargo was two to three hundred black slaves down packed, lying next to each other, into the ship hold. In a storm, little John Newton was washed overboard and was picked up on the open seas by a slave trader who trained John in his trade as he grew up. Before his conversion, Newton's life had become so debauched, irreverent, and immoral that even his fellow sailors were shocked by his conduct and coarse speech.
On one return voyage to England, Newton was caught in such a fierce storm that all aboard despaired of life. The Scriptures John had once learned at his mother's knee returned to his mind, and he began to hope that Jesus could deliver him, dreadful sinner that he was. For the first time in years John sought the Lord in prayer, and as he later wrote, "the Lord sent from on high and delivered me out of deep waters.” It was March 21, a date he remembered yearly for the rest of his life that Newton began to realize the enormity of the evil in his life and his complicity with the evil of slave-trading. He left the ship, joined the seminary, was ordained and became a zealous pastor. Thanking God for the grace of conversion, he composed a song which is now one of Americans' favorite hymns: “Amazing Grace how sweet the sound, that saved a wretch like me. I once was lost but now am found, was blind but now I see.” Jesus always comes to heal people who are spiritually blind if they ask for help. John had a huge personal blind spot in his tolerance for slave-trading, as did his culture. And Jesus healed John Newton’s spiritual blindness.
Peter Marshall the former chaplain to the United States Congress used to pray, "Give us clear vision that we may know where to stand and what to stand for, because unless we stand for something, we shall fall for anything.” Today’s gospel challenges our ability to see clearly. Do we see a terrorist in every member of a particular religion? Do we see people who are addicted to drugs as mere sinners? Do we fail to see God at work in our lives because He has shown us no miracles? Jonathan Swift said the "Vision is the art of seeing things invisible." Let us remember that this gift belongs to those who can see the good hidden in the kernels of suffering and of failure. It resides in those who never give up hope. Let us pray for the grace to see and experience the presence of a loving and forgiving God.