It isn’t always the case that the scripture passages for a particular Sunday intersect in such interesting ways – but such is the case for this, the 4th Sunday in Lent. The readings in 1 Samuel, Ephesians, and the Gospel of John all seem to point in the direction of deepening our understanding and recognition of how God works in the world and in our hearts, and how we might respond as followers of this gracious, challenging, engaging God.
In 1 Samuel, we learn that even Yahweh’s chosen spokesperson, the prophet Samuel, fails to understand what God is up to with the people of Israel. When tasked with anointing the next King of Israel, Samuel hesitates and then fails to select the candidate Yahweh desires. It isn’t until after Yahweh rejects 7 of Jesse’s sons, that Samuel finally asks Jesse to retrieve his youngest son from the fields, and David is anointed as the next king. The reason for this protracted and almost comical process? Yahweh tells Samuel, that humans see qualities that do not factor into Yahweh’s decision about leaders. Yahweh sees the qualities in the heart of a person.
In John’s Gospel we encounter other examples of misguided ideas about God from some of the Pharisees and the disciples. In this case, the writer pulls no punches about describing their lack of vision. Which is even more poignant because their failures are embedded in a story about a man born blind who regains his sight.
The mistakes start with the disciples. After Jesus and the disciples encounter the man born blind begging, the disciples begin wondering and questioning Jesus about who should be blamed for his blindness; whose sins caused his condition. Not only does this reveal what we know today to be all kinds of wrong thinking about disabilities, as well as bad theology, the disciples also miss the point that Jesus seeks to make. It turns out Jesus, doesn’t focus on blame or sins, but rather states that his blindness will serve to help reveal God’s work in the world.
Jesus proceeds to heal the man, who then goes on to endure a series of questions from neighbors and then religious authorities, to which he responds directly – I don’t know much about who or where he is, all I know is that I was blind and now I see.
After a second round of interrogations from the pharisees, the man repeats his story, and long after my patience would have worn thin, he says, ‘why do you keep asking me? I’ve already told you and you will not listen.’ He then demonstrates how and why his healing points to Jesus’ gifts and suggests perhaps they want to be his disciples. This response is shocking and offensive to the pharisees and results in the man being run out of town.
In a rather tender turn of events, Jesus who has not been present since the application of mud, hears about what has happened to the man and finds him. Interestingly and importantly, the Greek word used for “find” here is the same word used for the calling of disciples. It becomes clear that his physical healing is also a spiritual awakening. This man’s recognition and awareness of God in his midst offers a bold witness and serves as a foil for the blindness of the pharisees who cling to old ideas and misguided accusations.
Biblical scholar Walter Brueggemann writes, “The man born blind … is a model for life radically reorganized around new possibilities that are given in Jesus. Nothing here about sin and guilt. Nothing here about morality or orthodoxy. The Jesus of the Fourth Gospel is about receiving a new world of possibility wrought by the power of God, a new world which shatters all old blindnesses, all old fears, all old orthodoxies, all old deathly explanations and controls.” The collected Sermons of Walter Brueggemann, p. 2111.
As we listen to these stories today, they invite us to consider how well we recognize God in our midst, and how we follow the way of Jesus rather than shape – or allow ourselves to be shaped by – a world view based on wrong-sighted leadership that does not recognize God’s vision for God’s children and creation.
We know something about the distortion of God’s vision in the public realm these days, don’t we? We are bombarded by a constant flow of misinformation concerning all manner of things. We are inundated with displays of wrong sightedness, particularly when the language of Christianity and the interpretation of Scripture are employed to justify cruelty and violence.
I must confess here, that I sometimes find myself paralyzed by overwhelm in the face of such blatant manipulation of the very faith upon which we come here seeking to build our lives. This past week, in the category of ‘just when I thought it couldn’t get worse’, a friend, who is a retired military chaplain, shared an email written by an active-duty service member. Here is an excerpt: “This morning our commander … urged us to tell our troops that this (war) was “all part of God’s divine plan” and he specifically referenced numerous citations out of the Book of Revelation referring to Armageddon and the imminent return of Jesus Christ. He said that “President Trump has been anointed by Jesus to light the signal fire in Iran to cause Armageddon and mark his return to Earth.”
Where is the God of love in the midst of all of this, where is the prince of peace? When will we see the bend that Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. spoke of when he famously said, “The arc of the moral universe is long, but it bends toward justice.”
I don’t have answers to all this madness. Honestly? I wish Jesus left behind an instruction manual with detailed directions so we wouldn’t find experience so many divisive interpretations. Perhaps we find a way forward as we consider what Martin Luther King Jr. said after that famous statement: that this pursuit of justice and love will require “active, collective, and personal effort.” That perspective is also reflected in what the Center for Action and Contemplation founded by Father Richard Rohr uses as one of its core principles: “the best criticism of the bad is the practice of the better.”
While there may not be a blueprint or instruction manual for what these best practices are, we do have an invitation to listen closely to the gospel and shine the light of Christ in places of cruelty. The reading from Ephesians this morning sets that before us with a series of imperatives and promise of grace. It says: “Live as children of light—Try to find out what is pleasing to the Lord. Take no part in the unfruitful works of darkness but instead expose them. Sleeper, awake! Rise from the dead, and Christ will shine on you.” There is no paralyzing overwhelm in these sentiments, it is a call to action, because Christ shines on us, not so that Christ’s light will shine on us. It is a given. It is a grace. Our place is to share that light.
What will this look like? Most likely our actions won’t grab any headlines or go viral, but they may consist of times when in the movements of our daily lives we choose to practice a loving response to the challenges we encounter. Recently historian Diana Butler Bass used a compelling phrase that challenges followers to consider “normalcy as resilience.” She shared that she realized “how everyday life, lived with intention and attention, informed by but not afraid of the news, grounded in gratitude, faith, and love, is our strongest force for goodness against authoritarianism.” The Cottage, 3/14/26 Newsletter
In addition to Dr. Butler Bass’ suggestion, there are many approaches to resilience and resistance. Some of us may feel called to move in the direction of grand gestures of resistance, some of us will protest, some of us write letters, some will deliver food, some will sing songs of hope, some will blow whistles of warning to protect the vulnerable. Through our daily actions we will as St. Francis says, be people who “preach the gospel at all times; use words when necessary.”
As we round the Lenten corner toward Jerusalem; as we open our eyes and hearts and wake up to the love that was and is so freely given by this Jesus; we have the opportunity to sharpen our vision and our resolve for what a time such as this demands. So, let us listen carefully for what is ours to do and boldly respond to the call to see with eyes of love and mirror God’s divine compassion; a gift which God shares generously and graciously with us – the least of us, those of us who feel lost, paralyzed by overwhelm, begging by the side of the road. May our eyes and our hearts be opened as we humbly practice the better. May it be so, with God’s grace and God’s help.