"I was blind, and now I see!"
By Rev. Dr. Jack R. Miller
 
What would it be like to be blind all your life? Can you imagine spending your days and nights in darkness, with only sounds, smells, and touch to guide you? Never seeing your parents or friends, never watching a sunrise or sunset, feeling but not seeing a storm or the sun.  We who have our sight can only wonder what that would be like.
 
A few years ago, I underwent cataract surgery on my right eye. It was the worst of the two, although surgery on the left eye would follow two years later. My view of life through that right eye was like seeing the world through a frosted shower door, and what was worse, I had grown accustomed to it. Two days after my surgery, the bandage on my eye was removed; it was a day I will never forget. I was overjoyed at the brightness and beauty around me and how I could see everything clearly. The shower door was now crystal clear, and in that moment, I could relate to the blind man in our gospel story in a tiny way. Like me, he had grown accustomed to his circumstance, not having sight at all, but that would change dramatically when his mud bandages were washed away. His experience must have been completely overwhelming. That's why I'm so fond of the video version of our scripture this week, from Franco Zeffirelli’s miniseries, “Jesus of Nazareth.” It depicts the range of emotions experienced by the blind man more effectively than other productions do; his wonder, joy, and gratitude toward the one who changed his world.
 
As one commentator put it, the blind man's story is more like a play with six scenes; his healing by Jesus on the Sabbath; the townsfolk’s reaction; his first testimony before the Pharisees, the testimony of his parents, his second appearance before the Pharisees, which resulted in his expulsion from the synagogue, and finally, his return to recognize and accept Jesus for who he is. Even more intriguing, it appears Jesus orchestrated the whole play. He was aware of the laws regarding the Sabbath, and yet he chose to challenge them. Why? The blind man's condition was chronic; he was not suddenly struck blind and demanded immediate attention. According to the law, neither the blind man nor Jesus could travel on the Sabbath, so what was the urgency? Both would be there tomorrow. All Jesus had to do was wait until the next day, and the laws of the Sabbath would have been preserved, and the man born blind would still be healed. Could it be that the miracle itself was secondary to greater teaching?
 
In our gospel, last week, Jesus told the woman at the well that worship of God goes beyond a physical place. Could Jesus now be showing us that true worship also goes beyond a specific time or day and is measured not in defined rituals and pious practices, but in our openness to seize the opportunities, great and small, to show kindness to others on God's behalf; no matter the day, no matter the place, no matter the benefactor of the kindness we express.  
 
Our faith demands that we see things not through the eyes of practicality, but with the eyes of Christ’s selflessness and humility —to look beyond the laws that govern our faith and discover the timeless and profound truths of the human heart.
 
During this Lenten season, let us acknowledge the profound presence of God in even the most ordinary events of life: in the kindness and love of others, in the devotion and care provided by friends and family, and in the gifts of the earth that sustain and nurture us. Such a vision of faith enables us to re-create our world and not be satisfied with living as we've always lived.
 
Ultimately, the healing of the blind man is a sign that points us toward Christ. In our gospel story, the blind man sees this, but the Pharisees refuse to see it. Thus, the irony is that the blind man sees, but the Pharisees who have sight are blind to the truth. We, too, can close our eyes and pretend to see as the Pharisees did, or open our eyes, wash away the darkness surrounding us, and be filled with the light of God's justice, compassion, reconciliation, and peace. The choice is ours to make. In the face of Easter's dawn, what will our decision be?
 
In the name of the Father, + the Son, and the Holy Spirit, Amen!