The Light Brings Vision
22 March 2020 –– Fourth Sunday in Lent
John 9:1-41
A man blind from birth is seen by Jesus and his disciples as they are walking along. Jesus stops. He kneels down, takes some dirt in his hands and mixes it with his own spit. Jesus takes the mixture and spreads it on the eyes of the blind man. “Go and wash off the mud.”
The blind man never asks Jesus for any kind of miracle. Yet, the blind man goes and does as he is directed and returns, able to see.
The people can not believe something so wonderful has happened. The neighbors discuss how a thing like this could happen.
The Pharisees argue about how a thing like this could happen.
But all know that the blind man can see.
The man who was blind is asked over and over, “How did this man named Jesus do this, how did this happen?”
The man responds, “One thing I know, I was blind, now I see.”
Before, he was blind; now, afterwards, he can see! — Eric T. Myers
1 Samuel 16:1-13
David was described as “ruddy, a youth handsome to behold, and making a splendid appearance” (vs. 12). God chose him as the future king of Israel because of what was in David’s heart, not what he looked like. But. . . it probably didn’t hurt that he looked good.
God did—and does—have a history of choosing unlikely people: too young (David, Samuel himself, Jeremiah); too old (Sarah, Elizabeth, Zachary); too short, too stubborn, too weak . . . the list goes on.
And we ourselves have a long history of casting out (or hiding away—same thing) people who “look different,” people who don’t meet our standards of attractiveness, people whose appearance or behavior is odd, perhaps even dangerous. . . .
So how do we learn to see as God sees? How do we learn to love those who don’t even look “human”? Saints have been doing it for centuries. It takes practice. And patience. It takes enough exposure to get used to the unusual. It’s not merely an intellectual experience; it takes physical contact and loving touch. . . . It takes humble prayer: God, have mercy on me, a sinner. — M.D. Ridge
Ephesians 5:8-14
We gather this day, this fourth Sunday in Lent, as people who live in the “after,” for once we were darkness, but now we are light. We gather remembering that we are different than we once were, all because of God’s anointing poured out on our lives. We gather this day as people who have been made new in the waters of baptism. We gather this day, remembering that we once knew darkness all too well, but . . . now we know the light— the light of the risen one—the one who makes all things new—the one who takes all our troubles away—the one who heals all our hurts—the one who anoints us to bring good news to the world of darkness—the one who says, “You are the light of the world” (Matthew 5:14). “Now shine.” — Eric T. Myers
Eric T. Myers, a former church musician, is pastor of Frederick Presbyterian Church in Frederick, Maryland, and adjunct professor of worship at Wesley Theological Seminary.
M.D. Ridge (1938-2017) was a composer of liturgical music, a pastoral musician, journalist, writer, and editor who served parishes in the dioceses of Arlington, San Diego, and Richmond, Virginia.
Homily Service 38, no. 4 (2005): 3-12.