John 9:1-41
Dear Friends, once again we have a story of conversion from St. John on our Lenten journey. Jesus is the light of the world calling us out of the darkness of the blindness of the spirit.
I like to call this the Catholic way of conversion. This where we think we see but continue to get new light as we stay faithful to the struggle of living our commitment. Unlike last week where the Samaritan woman fought Jesus at every step until the final cave in, today the blind man begins with the beautiful encounter with Jesus in the restoration of his sight. Each of the following encounters brings him an ever-expanding new light.
Much to his surprise, the newly healed blind man had a ways to go. Each step was laden with obstacles that demanded yet another decision and a stronger commitment to Jesus. He responds to the crescendoing inquiries and hostility by choosing Jesus at a deeper level each time. In verse (9:12) he says, “a man named Jesus.” In verse (9:17) he says, “He is a prophet.” Then in (9:38) he professes, “I do believe (in the Son of Man) and he worshipped him.”
St. Teresa of Avila’s story follows this pattern. She was a mediocre religious for twenty years. Basically, she let the dry rituals of convent life define her but she stayed in the struggle. Then she evolved with a transforming encounter with Christ. She moved from her head to the deepest recesses of her heart and discovered she was loved without condition or limit. This was only possible as she fought off the spirit-killing tentacles of religious life in her time. This was a religious life far removed from the fire and passion of the Jesus of the Gospels. When the light of Christ lit up her heart, She was on the way to far-reaching change. This new light was anchored in the growing awareness of the limitless mercy of God revealed in Jesus. Thus, her mantra was, “Keep your eyes on Jesus.” In the process, Teresa moved on the painful but joyful journey from being a pious nun to a glorious saint, a reformer of religious life and a Doctor of the Church.
I have a much more personal and simpler story that follows the same pattern. One Sunday Mass in my fourth grade I received two hosts from the priest. Working out of my theological and cultural construct this evolved into the most traumatic moment in my life up to that point. I was sure l was going straight to hell if I swallowed the second host. I could not stop the Mass to give it back. Engulfed in fear and anxiety, I placed it on the side of my mouth with the hope of returning it to the priest in the sacristy after Mass. No such luck. It melted away. To my amazement, the floor did not open to free my passage into the everlasting flames I was sure that awaited me.
At the end of the Mass, I raced to the Monsignor to express my sorrow and innocence in the disaster of the two hosts. He said with a gentle pat on my head, “Ah boy, that’s no problem. Don’t you worry about it.”
That priestly encounter gave me a twenty year head start on Vatican II. I figured if they taught me so much fear of God, maybe I ought to look for a better program because that program had all but assured me I was seconds away from the everlasting fires of hell. It was pretty confusing for my quizzical fourth grade mind.
The blind man in today’s Gospel is a good example of one who kept his eyes on Jesus. Although he was born blind, he seems to be the only one to grow in his expanding sight to truly let Jesus light up his world. In contrast, the leaders stayed in the darkness as did the neighbors while the poor parents were frozen in the shadows of fear. The blind man did keep his eyes on Jesus so in the end he could say “I do believe Lord.” (John 9:38)
Like the blind man, I began a journey to meet Jesus in a way quite different from what I had learned in the Baltimore catechism. The message of my Carmelite sister to “keep our eyes on Jesus” is extremely helpful as I continue searching for the mystery that is Christ Crucified and Christ Risen. It is a challenging and lifegiving experience that offers all of us the chance to encounter the light that is Christ, the light of the world. It is our special task as we continue our Lenten journey.
In Christ,
