Lent 4 – 2023
John 9:1-41
Marian Free
In the name of God, whose presence can only be seen by those whose hearts and eyes are open. Amen.
If the COVID pandemic taught us nothing else, it revealed that sometimes no amount of scientific evidence was sufficient to convince some people that vaccination and the wearing of masks were for their own protection and safety and were not a sign that the state was taking over their lives. Some people were so unwilling to give up their position that families were, and remain, divided. Not even stories of agonising and lonely deaths, or reports of exhausted health care workers were enough to shake their position. They were (are) so committed to one version of truth that they were unable to see (or to allow for) any other. It is clear that I belong to the group who were grateful to a government that had the well-being of its citizens at heart, and to the researchers who so quickly developed a vaccine that, if it didn’t keep me well, would at least prevent the virus from killing me. As the various protests indicated, there were a significant number of people who resisted change because they could not see or believe the danger that it presented to themselves, and to others.
Our gospel for today presents a similar situation – though perhaps in reverse. In the case of the gospel, it was good news, not bad, that was both opposed and rejected. In the gospel, it was the leaders who resisted change and novelty, and who saw it as a threat to their position and to their authority. The Pharisees and the Judeans were so stuck in their legalistic view of faith and so convinced that God demanded conformity to particular behaviours, that even the miracle of sight could not budge them from their position that breaking the law was dangerous and perverse. They (or their predecessors) had constructed a world view that enabled them to feel safe and secure in their relationship with God, but which prevented them from seeing God in any other way. For them to feel safe, their life, and their practice of their faith had to remain stable and unchanged – hard and unforgiving as the ground in the poem by Israeli poet, Yehuda Amichai which seems to speak to the heart of today’s gospel.
‘The Place Where We Are Right”
From the place where we are right
Flowers will never grow
In the spring.
The place where we are right
Is hard and trampled
Like a yard.
But doubts and loves
Dig up the world
Like a mole, a plow.
And a whisper will be heard in the place
Where the ruined
House once stood.
In their desire to have a roadmap for salvation, to have clear precepts and laws that gave them reassurance that they were doing what it was that God wanted, Jesus’ opponents have solidified the commandments into hard and fast rules. Breaking those rules was seen to have serious consequences – not least of which was the law-breakers’ being excluded from the community of faith. The “law breaker” was deemed to have threatened the security of the community as a whole and therefore needed to be removed. The problem with holding this hard and fast position, was the conviction that God (fixed and unchanging) could be known and that God – arbiter of all behaviour – would judge as unworthy those who did not conform. There was no room for growth or development in that view of faith, no sense of wonder, no allowance for the possibility that God might act in new ways, or that, as God has done in the past, so in the present God might break through and reveal Godself in startling and fresh ways. The ground of ‘faith’ had been trampled and made so hard that new life could not possibly break through.
For those who had found security and certainty in a particular set of beliefs (truths), the thought of examining or questioning those beliefs was terrifying. What if they were proved to be wrong? If they let go of one “truth” would the whole structure on which they have built their faith be shattered? On the other hand, if they were right and yet were tempted to rejoice in Jesus’ bringing of sight, would God’s wrath be poured out upon them because they had dared to question what had always been? It was safer to hold on to what they had always believed (and to force others to do likewise), than to risk the possibility that they might have been wrong. In their desire to maintain the status quo, they needed to reject and discredit anything that threatened their way of seeing the world and God.
This explains why, in today’s gospel, no one – not even the blind man’s parents – was able to rejoice in the fact that his sight had been restored. They were terrified that their whole world would come tumbling down and with it their sense of security and (in the case of the Pharisees) their claim to authority. They were determined to hold on to what they had held to be true – that one should not work on the Sabbath – even if the alternative was life-giving and restorative. They were blind to the possibility that the giving of sight was a gift from God, and that the giver, Jesus was not a sinner but a bearer of God’s likeness.
Truth is a key concept in John’s gospel. We are told that: “The Word became flesh, full of grace and truth” (1:14). And: “You will know the truth and the truth will set you free” (8:32). We have seen that Jesus challenged Nicodemus to be open to rebirth. He questioned the version of truth held by the Samaritan woman and here he opens the eyes of the blind man so that he might accept a new version of reality.
Let us pray that we may not be so locked into our own understanding of what is true, that we, like the Pharisees are blinded to God’s presence among us – even when that presence is totally different from what we had expected. May we create a yard in which flowers may grow in the spring.
From the place where we are right
Flowers will never grow
In the spring.
The place where we are right
Is hard and trampled
Like a yard.
But doubts and loves
Dig up the world
Like a mole, a plow.
And a whisper will be heard in the place
Where the ruined
House once stood.


