There is a line near the end of the Gospel that should make every one of us pause. The Pharisees ask Jesus, almost defensively: “Surely we are not also blind, are we?” And Jesus answers in a way that turns the whole story upside down. He says, in effect, that the real problem is not physical blindness. The real problem is thinking we see perfectly when we do not.
The man born blind in today’s Gospel ends up being the only one who truly sees. Everyone else looks at him – but they do not really see him. The disciples see a theological problem: “Rabbi, who sinned?” The neighbors see only the man they remember sitting and begging. The Pharisees see a rule that has been broken because the healing happened on the sabbath. Even the man’s parents see danger and refuse to speak openly because they are afraid. Everyone looks – but very few actually see.
And that connects with the first reading. In the Book of Samuel, the prophet goes to the house of Jesse to anoint a new king. Jesse brings forward his sons, starting with the strongest, tallest, most impressive. Samuel assumes the first one must be the chosen one. But God says something that echoes across all of scripture: “Not as man sees does God see, because man sees the appearance, but the Lord looks into the heart.”
Human beings look at the surface. God sees deeper. Which leads right into what St. Paul tells us in the second reading: “You were once darkness but now you are light in the Lord. Live as children of light.”
The first weeks of Lent we looked at the image of stoney hearts becoming hearts of flesh – today the focus changes from hearts to eyes – blindness to sight. The tragedy in the Gospel is that the man born blind knows he was blind. That is why he can receive healing. But the Pharisees insist that they already see perfectly – and so they remain blind.
That same danger exists for us. We might think we have perfect vision but sometimes fear blinds us. When we are afraid about health, family, security or the future, our whole vision narrows. Sometimes prejudice blinds us. We think we already know who people are. Sometimes pride blinds us. We assume our perspective must be the correct one. And when that happens, we begin to look at the world the way the people in the Gospel did – seeing labels instead of people.
Lent invites us to ask a very simple but very honest question. Where might I be blind?
Maybe blind to issues in your marriage or family. Maybe blind to someone’s suffering. Maybe blind to our own faults. Maybe blind to the ways God is working in our lives. The beautiful moment in the Gospel is when Jesus finds the man after he has been thrown out by the authorities. Jesus asks him, “Do you believe in the Son of Man?” And the man answers, “Who is he sir, that I may believe in him?” Jesus says, “You have seen him.” And the man responds with the most powerful words in the Gospel: “Lord, I believe.”
The one who was blind now truly sees. And that is the journey of Lent. Little by little, Christ opens our eyes. Through prayer, we begin to see God more clearly. Through fasting we begin to see what really controls our hearts. Through acts of charity, we begin to see people we may have overlooked before. Slowly the light breaks in. That is why today the Sacrament of Reconciliation will be available…a time to look deep into our hearts and confess what is keeping us from seeing life as Jesus does. If we allow Christ to touch our lives this Lent in the Sacrament of Penance, we too will be able to say with greater conviction than ever, what the man in the Gospel said: “I was blind…but now I see.”