Sight and insight
Fourth Sunday in Lent: 2nd March, 2008
Fr John Davis, Vicar of St Peter's, Eastern Hill
Water, light and life. These are the themes that are being presented to us in the readings for Lent 3, 4 and 5 in this year A of the lectionary. Three weeks of powerful readings from St John's gospel. Last week water was at the centre of the story of the woman at the well. Today light is at the heart of the story of the healing of the man born blind. Next week the raising of Lazarus speaks of life, in a way that directs us forward to the events of Holy Week and Easter. Each one of these themes recurs again and again in the fourth gospel.
The whole purpose of this gospel is of course to help those who are hearing it stir up their faith. John does not see his point as one of argument of proposition — he simply sets out to describe in a series of stories which he calls signs, who Jesus really is. Then this can be accepted or rejected. That was the situation for those who were actually there two thousand years ago. It is the same for us now. We then have three of these signs over three weeks during this Lent. They are deliberately confronting and challenging. More so in John's accounts than in any of the gospels, there are levels of nuance and meaning that are a delight to tease out. Each one is designed to be reflected upon and considered, not just as a story but on how this particular sign intersects with our own life experience. So it was with the woman of Samaria with those five husbands last week and with the man born blind today. So it will be with Lazarus and Martha and Mary next week.
Towards the end of the gospel, John comments that, out of the many signs and indicators of who he was that Jesus offered or performed during his ministry, these particular ones have been recorded:
"... that you may believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and that believing you may have life in his name". (Jn 20:31.)
They have been particularly chosen in turn for us to consider through this Lent, by way of assistance for us this year in our time of preparing for our sharing in the observance of the events of Holy week and Easter.
Today's gospel is one of the great descriptive narrative teachings offered to us by John. Just like last week, the teaching could have been summarised easily enough in a sentence or two, but nowhere near as memorably as in this narrative form. The sharply drawn characters, the twists and turns of the story line, the hostility, the anger, the prejudice, the remarkable event at the centre — the healing of a man born blind and on the Sabbath. There is a lot in this one and it provides the background for our reflections today.
For a start, it is almost as if there is a deliberate forcing of issues going on here. Of course the Lord could have done this fairly spectacular healing work on any other day of the week other than the Sabbath and not attracted any criticism for breaking Sabbath laws. But the Sabbath was when the issue presented itself. So that was when he had to respond. And he did.
He responded and he acted, using powerful symbols of earth and water, picking up on the themes and the celebrations of the great festival going on all around them and, above all, showing the grace and the love of God, at work so powerfully in this healing. And in addition the great contrasting depths of light and darkness, of having no sight, no insight, and then seeing and understanding all — themes so beloved by John throughout his gospel — these are here for all of us to see and to grasp. It is really enjoyable to grapple with these things.
The actual sign is the healing of the blind man. But this is not just a miracle story that we leave at that. This is what Jesus is to do not only in a literal sense but also in the bringing of light to those who are in the darkness of spirit and the darkness of hopelessness. There is a double edge too in the contrast between the light that is in every sense filling the life of this former beggar and the dark anger of the religious authorities. As the old saying goes: 'there is none so blind as those that cannot see'. We know that the same opportunities and the same challenges can produce quite opposite results in situations closer to home than the 1st century.
And so today on this Refreshment Sunday in mid Lent, we have been given as our gospel this striking story of light and insight and perception breaking through. Things became very clear for the man born blind — for the first time in his life. But this clarity of understanding and direction came at some cost to him. I imagine that the man who had been healed could have had a much quieter life if he had just said that he didn't know who had done it or what had happened — or had even remained silent when the authorities got so twitchy about the alleged connection between disability or illness and sinful acts — but he did not. Obviously the blind beggar had to find a new way of life. But he was also evicted from the Temple community for saying what he thought and what he now believed. The authorities who had so cowed his parents could not stop this man, who now worshipped Jesus in grateful thanksgiving — 'seeing' in every sense. So we have it all; darkness and light, blindness and sight, fear and courage, throwing out and drawing in, law and grace, inaction and action — and then more besides.
Perhaps too we have a reminder that there are times, never convenient, when difficulties or problems or most profound challenges present themselves, demanding an action and a response right then.
One such challenge presenting at this time is how we are to respond to the deepening divisions within our Church — at diocesan, national and international levels. Increasingly, this is shaking out to a gathering of more and more like-minded people at the local congregational level. More and more people are moving around to find such places. Some are being forced to do so because they find themselves no longer welcome. A well-supported local church is a place where it is possible to live the life, to offer worship and service to others and to not be discouraged or put off by whatever else is going on. But it is becoming increasingly difficult.
We ourselves at St Peter's Eastern Hill are very conscious of the significant role a city church in this tradition is actually called upon to play. In these times there is an expectation of leadership and example from clergy and laity here. Yes and encouragement.
Look at the Viewpoint section of the latest Melbourne Anglican. There you will find the Vicar of St Peter's Eastern Hill taking up the cause of 'grace-filled generosity' under the heading of 'Anglicans can affirm truth while embracing difference'. Unless that assertion is found to be true, we will not hold together as an institution.
There I argue that:
... our foundational truths ... do not exactly prescribe how we must read our Bibles or the precise path to repentance, any more than the many and varied accounts of repentance in the gospels do. But they do utterly affirm our common faith and hope in Jesus — the Word made flesh; reconciler and saviour. For Christians that must be so. We will live this faith in varied ways.
There are different yet still legitimate and worthy ways for Anglicans responding to the call to a living and transforming relationship with our God in Jesus Christ. A Church is by definition large enough to embrace such differences. A sect is not.
So what are we to be then; a church or a sect?
I also argue that there remain first and second level issues of difference. First level issues of discipleship and response to the call to relationship with God in Jesus Christ are of far more significance than questions of institutional affiliation. So let whatever else we do be based on the firm foundation of our own personal and community of faith response for instance to what these successive lessons from St John's gospel are placing before us over these inside weeks of Lent. Water, light and life — signs pointing us towards the one who has died, who is risen and who will come again.
There is much to think about this morning.
The Lord be with you.
| 