Thursday, March 31, 2011

3 April 2011 - 4th Sunday of Lent [Cycle A]

April 3, 2011 — Fourth Sunday of Lent

First Reading – Genesis 12: 1-4a
The LORD said to Samuel: “Fill your horn with oil, and be on your way. I am sending you to Jesse of Bethlehem, for I have chosen my king from among his sons.” As Jesse and his sons came to the sacrifice, Samuel looked at Eliab and thought, “Surely the LORD’s anointed is here before him.” But the LORD said to Samuel: “Do not judge from his appearance or from his lofty stature, because I have rejected him. Not as man sees does God see, because man sees the appearance but the LORD looks into the heart.” In the same way Jesse presented seven sons before Samuel, but Samuel said to Jesse, “The LORD has not chosen any one of these.”
Then Samuel asked Jesse, “Are these all the sons you have?”
Jesse replied, “There is still the youngest, who is tending the sheep.” Samuel said to Jesse, “Send for him; we will not begin the sacrificial banquet until he arrives here.” Jesse sent and had the young man brought to them. He was ruddy, a youth handsome to behold and making a splendid appearance. The LORD said, “There—anoint him, for this is the one!” Then Samuel, with the horn of oil in hand, anointed David in the presence of his brothers;
and from that day on, the spirit of the LORD rushed upon David.

Responsorial Psalm - Psalm 33: 4-5, 18-19, 20, 22
R. (1) The Lord is my shepherd; there is nothing I shall want.
The LORD is my shepherd; I shall not want. In verdant pastures he gives me repose;
beside restful waters he leads me; he refreshes my soul.
R. The Lord is my shepherd; there is nothing I shall want.
He guides me in right paths for his name’s sake. Even though I walk in the dark valley I fear no evil; for you are at my side With your rod and your staff that give me courage.
R. The Lord is my shepherd; there is nothing I shall want.
You spread the table before me in the sight of my foes; you anoint my head with oil;
my cup overflows.
R. The Lord is my shepherd; there is nothing I shall want.
Only goodness and kindness follow me all the days of my life;
and I shall dwell in the house of the LORD for years to come.
R. The Lord is my shepherd; there is nothing I shall want.

Second Reading—Ephesians 5:8-14
Brothers and sisters: You were once darkness, but now you are light in the Lord. Live as children of light, for light produces every kind of goodness and righteousness and truth. Try to learn what is pleasing to the Lord. Take no part in the fruitless works of darkness; rather expose them, for it is shameful even to mention the things done by them in secret; but everything exposed by the light becomes visible, for everything that becomes visible is light. Therefore, it says: “Awake, O sleeper, and arise from the dead, and Christ will give you light.”

Gospel – John 9: 1-41
As Jesus passed by he saw a man blind from birth. His disciples asked him, “Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?”
Jesus answered, “Neither he nor his parents sinned; it is so that the works of God might be made visible through him. We have to do the works of the one who sent me while it is day. Night is coming when no one can work. While I am in the world, I am the light of the world.” When he had said this, he spat on the ground and made clay with the saliva, and smeared the clay on his eyes, and said to him, “Go wash in the Pool of Siloam” —which means Sent—. So he went and washed, and came back able to see.

His neighbors and those who had seen him earlier as a beggar said, “Isn’t this the one who used to sit and beg?” Some said, “It is,” but others said, “No, he just looks like him.”
He said, “I am.” So they said to him, “How were your eyes opened?” He replied, “The man called Jesus made clay and anointed my eyes and told me, ‘Go to Siloam and wash.’
So I went there and washed and was able to see.” And they said to him, “Where is he?”
He said, “I don’t know.”

They brought the one who was once blind to the Pharisees. Now Jesus had made clay and opened his eyes on a sabbath. So then the Pharisees also asked him how he was able to see.
He said to them, “He put clay on my eyes, and I washed, and now I can see.” So some of the Pharisees said, “This man is not from God, because he does not keep the sabbath.”
But others said, “How can a sinful man do such signs?” And there was a division among them. So they said to the blind man again, “What do you have to say about him, since he opened your eyes?” He said, “He is a prophet.”
Now the Jews did not believe that he had been blind and gained his sight until they summoned the parents of the one who had gained his sight. They asked them, “Is this your son, who you say was born blind? How does he now see?”

His parents answered and said, “We know that this is our son and that he was born blind. We do not know how he sees now, nor do we know who opened his eyes. Ask him, he is of age; he can speak for himself.” His parents said this because they were afraid of the Jews, for the Jews had already agreed that if anyone acknowledged him as the Christ, he would be expelled from the synagogue. For this reason his parents said, “He is of age; question him.”

So a second time they called the man who had been blind and said to him, “Give God the praise! We know that this man is a sinner.” He replied, “If he is a sinner, I do not know. One thing I do know is that I was blind and now I see.”
So they said to him, “What did he do to you? How did he open your eyes?”
He answered them, “I told you already and you did not listen. Why do you want to hear it again? Do you want to become his disciples, too?” They ridiculed him and said, “You are that man’s disciple; we are disciples of Moses! We know that God spoke to Moses, but we do not know where this one is from.”
The man answered and said to them, “This is what is so amazing, that you do not know where he is from, yet he opened my eyes. We know that God does not listen to sinners, but if one is devout and does his will, he listens to him. It is unheard of that anyone ever opened the eyes of a person born blind. If this man were not from God, he would not be able to do anything.”

They answered and said to him, “You were born totally in sin, and are you trying to teach us?” Then they threw him out. When Jesus heard that they had thrown him out, he found him and said, “Do you believe in the Son of Man?”
He answered and said, “Who is he, sir, that I may believe in him?”
Jesus said to him, “You have seen him, the one speaking with you is he.”
He said, “I do believe, Lord,” and he worshiped him. Then Jesus said, “I came into this world for judgment, so that those who do not see might see, and those who do see might become blind.” Some of the Pharisees who were with him heard this and said to him, “Surely we are not also blind, are we?” Jesus said to them, “If you were blind, you would have no sin; but now you are saying, ‘We see,’ so your sin remains.

Reflection
There are two major plots in today’s Gospel narrative of the man born blind. The first is the relationship between Jesus and the blind man; the second is the interaction between the blind man and the religious authorities.

As has been established, each of the Gospel writers sought to communicate a particular message about Jesus; to construct a narrative that revealed a certain understanding about who this individual was, and what significance his life may have had. For Matthew, we see quite clearly that this Jesus is the Messiah prophesied by the Hebrew Scriptures; the one chosen by God to save the people Israel. In Luke, Jesus is depicted as sent not only to the Jews, but to the entire world, and so numerous stories portray him interacting with Gentiles, as a way of emphasizing the universality of his mission. When Mark displays Jesus performing miracles, it is not uncommon for him to characterize Jesus as “moved by compassion” (Mark 1:41, 6:34). This inclusion would seem to suggest a very human Jesus, who was affected by the same emotional tugs that we feel when we encounter a homeless person lying in the street or a loved one fighting cancer. Hopefully, in such instances, we, too, are moved by compassion.

But in this telling, Jesus indicates that the reason for this man’s suffering—and thus Jesus’ response—is to demonstrate the healing power of God. This is not in opposition to Mark’s or Matthew’s respective portrayals of Jesus; i.e. this is not to claim that Jesus is NOT the fulfillment of prophecies from the Hebrew Scriptures, or to assert that he is NOT a human person that is moved by compassion to use his gifts to help others… Rather, it is merely that, in addition to being those things, Jesus’ primary mission is to be used as a conduit for the healing power of God in people’s lives. Thus for John, the thesis statement of this story might be articulated as: God wishes to heal us, and He uses this person Jesus, in a special way, to bring that healing to our lives.

Of note is that the disciples, who by this point have been traveling with Jesus for quite some time, still fail to understand this message, even as they are around Jesus constantly and playing a part in his ministry. When they see the blind man, their first response is not to importune upon Jesus to heal him; rather, they treat the man as an intellectual exercise, a case study in the relationship between individual sin and bad things happening to people.

Jesus rather curtly dismisses their question and immediately shifts the conversation. Rather than indulge their detached, academic curiosity about the relationship between sin and evil occurrences, Jesus responds to the man’s affliction as an opportunity for action. His reaction is as decisive as it is effective—he wastes no time in doing what is within his power to bring healing to the man, then sends him off to complete the process.

Once the man has been healed, he encounters the religious authorities who are portrayed as already quite antipathetic towards Jesus’ ministry. The Pharisees—a group defined by their unmatched knowledge of the Law and unyielding adherence to its most infinitesimal prescription—immediately decry the fact that Jesus, incontestably, has violated the Law’s prohibition on doing work during the Sabbath. Their very first reaction is not, “How wonderful that this man’s suffering has been taken away!” but an outrage over the fact that the way by which this result was produced was unacceptable. An unmistakable contrast is drawn: for Jesus, the act of healing this man represented an opportunity to demonstrate the efficacy of God’s healing power in our lives; for the Pharisees, it epitomized an affront to that same God by breaking His rules for our behavior.

Why were these people so threatened by Jesus, and why was their fixation on the letter of the Law so unrelenting that they could not pause, even for a second, to share a human moment with this man and celebrate his cure? There had to be a reason.

The reason that the Pharisees are so focused on the act of violating the Law is the very same reason the Chief of Medicine at a hospital would be furious if he found out that an attending had been stealing medical supplies and performing unapproved, off-site medical procedures for poor immigrants afraid of showing up to the ER for fear of deportation. The Chief of Medicine likely would be irate that this person—however well-meaning her intentions—had shown utter disregard, even contempt, for sound hospital rules that were designed to help keep people safe. Even if someone said to the Chief, “But sir, this doctor has probably saved a couple dozen lives by doing this,” the Chief likely would be focused on how egregious, reckless, and thoughtless had been this person’s actions.

So too was likely the mindset of the Pharisees who believed that God had given the Jews the Law for a reason—for their own health and well-being (same as hospital policies are designed to keep both employees and patients safe).

If one believes, as the Jews unquestionably did, that the purpose of the Law was for human happiness and well-being; and that, furthermore, every time in Jewish history that the people had abandoned the Law and started doing their own thing, they had found themselves in major trouble… then one can understand why they placed such
importance adherence to the Law. Moreover, it is not hard to understand why they would have been so upset that this rogue self-appointed teacher named Jesus was going around demonstrating a total disregard for following the Law. In the mind of the Pharisees, this person Jesus may have meant well on some level—but he was actually
doing something very dangerous in advocating this new way of living that suggested it was acceptable to ignore the Law. In a sense, they were entrusted with the spiritual well-being of the people, and Jesus was threatening the people’s well-being by leading them astray. Imagine that the rogue doctor at the hospital went around advocating to medical students that they ignore hospital protocol if they thought they could do more good. A person like that could cause a lot of damage with such dangerous suggestions.

So, in a way, their animosity towards Jesus comes from a “good place,” in that they don’t want the people misled. But their obsession with the Law has caused them to become overly obsessed with sheer adherence to each letter of it, much to the detriment of all other considerations. At no point are the Pharisees depicted as being torn about this, because part of them sincerely is happy to see this man healed. The focus on the Law has blinded them to the humanity of it, and to its ultimate purpose, which is why Jesus constantly challenges them to recover a more holistic understanding of its role in human life. (For instance, his argument with them over picking grains on the Sabbath.)

Furthermore, their passion for the Law has become inextricably bound up with their internal insecurities and personal jealousies. We see this clearly in the way that they bicker over whether or not this man could authentically have been healed by Jesus. The reason they are so unsettled is that, if this event really took place as the man described, it would provide incontestable proof that God really DOES listen to Jesus, and that this man really DOES have some sort of unique insight into the way God operates. And Jesus’ insight is dramatically opposed to the ethos of the Pharisees.

Thus, their entire self-understanding is at stake here. Their very identity, their way-of-being in society, is as a Pharisee, that is, as one who believes that God wishes for humans to obey the Law to its letter, for their own happiness. If this person Jesus comes along and offers a different way of understanding the Law—which he does—and then furthermore he can provide evidence that he is right about all of this by performing signs… then they, very clearly, have been proven wrong. Such a blow is difficult to assimilate—but imagine if you dedicated your entire life to the belief that a particular way of living were the best, and then someone came along and proved, beyond argument, that it was, in fact, incorrect all along. That would be devastating.

So these religious authorities are responding from a place of deep-seated insecurity. They are insecure that they may have made the wrong choice; that their life might be a sham. No wonder they are eager to prove that this man’s story was made-up, or that Jesus had tricked people in some way.

Finally, it is worth noting that their response is not to explore this matter further; to search within their own souls to see if this might be true, if this Jesus person is actually who he says he is—they have already ruled that out. So their reaction is to banish the man who represents the proof of their error. To eliminate any lingering cognitive dissonance, they simply excommunicate the problematic individual. That way, when they are at synagogue, still thoroughly convinced of their right-ness, they don’t have to look across the room and see a man who represents their wrong-ness. Out of sight, out of mind.

In our own lives, we are, at various times, each of the four major characters in this story: 1) Jesus; 2) the blind man; 3) the disciples; and 4) the Pharisees.

We are Jesus insofar as we see someone who is suffering, and we try to alleviate that suffering. We recognize that we cannot do it by ourselves, and so we ask for God’s help; we request that God will use us as an instrument of his healing in the life of this person. Moreover, we are Jesus when we do not wish to claim the glory for ourselves, but when we tell everyone that, if we were able to effect any positive outcome at all, it was only by being used precisely as God’s instrument. It is God who heals, through us, and not we ourselves, who heal.

We are the blind man when we are afflicted in any way, be it physical, mental, or spiritual. We are the blind man when we have suffered so long that we have given up hope. Note that the blind man does not call out to Jesus and beg Jesus to heal him. He has long since given up hope that healing is even possible. And yet, Jesus reaches out to him, as he reaches out to us. Sometimes, we cry out to God for healing, as so many in the Gospel stories do. But even when we don’t, Jesus STILL sees our suffering and offers to heal it.

Furthermore, we are the blind man when our encounter with Jesus, our faith, causes us to be in some way ostracized from our society. When we are excommunicated from whatever group of which we are a part, be it our academic department, our circle of friends, or, even, our own family members. Being touched by Jesus means that we are never the same, and that no matter what the cost to us socially, we cannot but exclaim the truth that Jesus has healed us, and He is Lord.

Too, we are disciples. We are disciples when we see someone suffering around us, and our first response is not to ask Jesus to heal that person, or ask how we might be part of the healing… but to treat it as an intellectual exercise. How often do we see a homeless man on the street and think, “He probably made bad decisions,” or we look at the people of New Orleans and remark that, “Just goes to show you what happens when you build your city below sea-level.” Jesus immediately dismisses such thoughts and demands that we take action, as he did. The point of suffering is not for us to sit around and ponder the problem of evil in the universe—it is an opportunity for us to be agents of God’s healing power in the lives of those who are suffering.

Finally, we are Pharisees. We are Pharisees when, for whatever reason, many of those reasons very good, we are more focused on the letter of the law than the human persons it affects. We are Pharisees when, out of insecurity or fear or jealousy, we react with hostility or bitterness towards others. We are Pharisees when someone speaks a truth to us, we simply shut them off, because we are not willing to hear that truth, for it will require us to do serious, uncomfortable soul searching.

There is only one reflection question this week: In what ways have you been one or more of the following: Jesus, blind man, disciples, Pharisee? When in your life have you inhabited those roles?