Gospel Commentary March 19, Jn 9:1-41
Every word of the Gospels speaks to us of Christ’s identity and mission. Whether they present the Lord’s own speech, recount his actions, or even paint for us a portrait of how different hearts respond to his message and deeds, we always gain insight into who Christ really is, or into what exactly he intends to give us. In reading today’s miracle story Gospel, particularly in its long form, we might be amazed at how little Jesus appears directly. The vast majority of the passage refers to him, but does not feature him. Rather, it follows the varied reactions to the miracle worked for the man born blind.
In fact, this great contrast — between Christ’s simple interaction with the blind man and the complex, proud and incredulous response of the people — gets to the heart of the miracle’s meaning. The blind man approaches with faith and humility, Christ heals him, and he goes away seeing. All is simple and direct. The crowds, the Pharisees, and the blind man’s parents do not have hearts open in faith or humility. Thus, they run about in circles, from place to place, from witness to witness, hearing the same story over and over, and yet, ending up back where they started, unchanged, unbelieving and unhappy.
For centuries, the church has set this miracle before those seeking to become Christian as an examination of whether they will approach with humility and faith, confessing that they need the Lord to open their eyes, and believing that he can do so. If they possess this disposition, then they can expect after baptism to see and know the face of God with the heavenly mysteries. If not, they cannot expect to see anything new at all, no matter what the Lord offers and does. Their life will, in a sense, remain pre-Christian, and without true sight.
For those of us who are already Christian, the challenge and self-examination are exactly the same. Do we wish to be changed, and do we believe that Christ can change us? Do we admit to God and to the church that there is something off in our souls, and that we are blind, in need of healing? Or do we defend ourselves against God and the church, saying that we are basically fine and have no need of mercy, that we see perfectly well and have no need of enlightenment? If we answer yes to the former, then Christ can and, we should expect, will act decisively, giving not only the sight we need, but access to mysteries far greater than we could ever have thought to ask of him. If we are compelled to answer yes to the second question instead, then we can expect only more darkness and confusion, going around in circles and coming back to the start with the same spiritual infirmities, weaknesses and exhaustion.
This season of Lent invites us to call out to the Lord for our sight. All our Lenten disciplines aim at setting our hearts free to desire the Father and his kingdom, to long for the face of the Lord, to thirst for the living waters of the Holy Spirit, and the only price for receiving these priceless gifts is that of humility and trust. Wisdom surely leads us to take advantage of this moment, follow the example of the man born blind, and bow to receive the generosity of Christ our God.
Fr. Rampino is parochial vicar of St. Ambrose Church in Annandale.
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Gospel Commentary March 19, Jn 9:1-41
Every word of the Gospels speaks to us of Christ’s identity and mission. Whether they present the Lord’s own speech, recount his actions, or even paint for us a portrait of how different hearts respond to his message and deeds, we always gain insight into who Christ really is, or into what exactly he intends to give us. In reading today’s miracle story Gospel, particularly in its long form, we might be amazed at how little Jesus appears directly. The vast majority of the passage refers to him, but does not feature him. Rather, it follows the varied reactions to the miracle worked for the man born blind.
In fact, this great contrast — between Christ’s simple interaction with the blind man and the complex, proud and incredulous response of the people — gets to the heart of the miracle’s meaning. The blind man approaches with faith and humility, Christ heals him, and he goes away seeing. All is simple and direct. The crowds, the Pharisees, and the blind man’s parents do not have hearts open in faith or humility. Thus, they run about in circles, from place to place, from witness to witness, hearing the same story over and over, and yet, ending up back where they started, unchanged, unbelieving and unhappy.
For centuries, the church has set this miracle before those seeking to become Christian as an examination of whether they will approach with humility and faith, confessing that they need the Lord to open their eyes, and believing that he can do so. If they possess this disposition, then they can expect after baptism to see and know the face of God with the heavenly mysteries. If not, they cannot expect to see anything new at all, no matter what the Lord offers and does. Their life will, in a sense, remain pre-Christian, and without true sight.
For those of us who are already Christian, the challenge and self-examination are exactly the same. Do we wish to be changed, and do we believe that Christ can change us? Do we admit to God and to the church that there is something off in our souls, and that we are blind, in need of healing? Or do we defend ourselves against God and the church, saying that we are basically fine and have no need of mercy, that we see perfectly well and have no need of enlightenment? If we answer yes to the former, then Christ can and, we should expect, will act decisively, giving not only the sight we need, but access to mysteries far greater than we could ever have thought to ask of him. If we are compelled to answer yes to the second question instead, then we can expect only more darkness and confusion, going around in circles and coming back to the start with the same spiritual infirmities, weaknesses and exhaustion.
This season of Lent invites us to call out to the Lord for our sight. All our Lenten disciplines aim at setting our hearts free to desire the Father and his kingdom, to long for the face of the Lord, to thirst for the living waters of the Holy Spirit, and the only price for receiving these priceless gifts is that of humility and trust. Wisdom surely leads us to take advantage of this moment, follow the example of the man born blind, and bow to receive the generosity of Christ our God.
Fr. Rampino is parochial vicar of St. Ambrose Church in Annandale.
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