Darkness and Light

Fourth Sunday in Lent



Readings

ps 23

Ephesians 5.8-14

John 9.1-41




“What did I do wrong, that I deserved this bad luck!” Do you ever find yourself saying, or maybe even just thinking, this? Or maybe saying to a friend, when they have some unexpected good fortune, or narrowly avoid some pitfall, “Somebody up there must like you!” It’s as old as the hills, isn’t it, the idea that, spiritually speaking, what goes around, comes around. That we get our just desserts, and it comes from the age-old view of God as the ultimate keeper and settler of scores. In this view of things, which Jesus thoroughly debunks in today’s reading from the Fourth Gospel, if somebody is struck by misfortune then it just shows God disapproves of them. And on the other side of the ledger, if we’re doing OK thank you very much, then it shows God approves of us. It’s wrong, of course. Not only does it lead to victim-blaming, it also provides a too easy self-justification for the comfortable, and the rich and the powerful.

It’s an old and false theology of providence, that in one form or another still persists today. But Jesus is having none of it.

In Jesus’ day it was generally accepted that illness is caused by sin - and of course for a society in which there was no knowledge about the causes of transmission of infectious diseases and few effective treatments for chronic conditions, this would have been a tempting explanation. And as I said, this is just the flip side of believing that God protects God’s righteous people from accidents and chance illnesses or human evil - a very tempting form of wishful thinking.

In any case Jesus wastes no time in dismissing this idea. Nobody sinned that this man was born blind. His blindness may have been due to some genetic inheritence, some combination of his parents' genes. Or maybe due to a condition acquired by his mother during pregnancy or some illness in early infancy. Who knows? But accidents and blind chance happen all the time in the imperfect world in which we live our human lives. Chance dictates where are when we are born, and the life events that determine whether our lives will be long and happy. And chance, as well as poor choices, and human evil and selfishness and poverty, all have a bearing on great tragedies like war and epidemic diseases, as well as the smaller accidents and misfortunes of our individual lives. But like the sunshine and the rain these things fall on the just as well as the unjust. They are not a punishment - and I say this very clearly because actually it is still the contention of some so-called Christian teachers in our own time that these things are sent by God as a punishment for sin.

Nobody’s sin was the cause of this man’s blindness, Jesus assures the onlookers. But, Jesus says, his blindness provides us an opportunity to praise God for the gift of healing - and even today that is the right interpretation to place on circumstance, and illness and misfortune. These things are an opportunity for us to show God’s mercy through simple acts of kindness and compassion, and to give praise to God for healing skill.

As with all the miracles in the Fourth Gospel, the story of the healing of the blind man in chapter 9 is not told simply for its own sake as an event in the lifetime of Jesus. Rather, it is written as a starting point for theological reflection on issues that the Gospel writer believes are important for his community of believers late in the first century. That's why the seven miracles in John are called signs; each of them points to the ongoing significance of Jesus for the Christian community.

This episode in John 9 presents in action form the great theological theme in this gospel of light and darkness, that is first introduced right back in the Prologue of the Gospel (1:1-18). In Jesus, the Word was made flesh, the light shines, and the darkness of this world is unable to overpower it. Even though the forces of darkness will eventually crucify him, the final outcome is that the darkness will not be able to extinguish the light. He is "the true light, which enlightens everyone . . ." (1:9).

In John, chapter three (vss. 19-21), the theme of light and darkness reappears as a commentary on the dialogue between Jesus and Nicodemus, with the added observation that not everyone will choose the light. Then, in the controversy with the religious leaders in chapters seven and eight Jesus declares, "I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will never walk in darkness but will live in the light" (8:12). At the very end of that debate, and right before today’s story of the blind man in chapter nine, the Gospel writer gives us the ominous conclusion: "So they picked up stones to throw at him, but Jesus hid himself and went out of the temple" (8:59).

Then, in today’s reading, the Gospel says that as Jesus walked along, he saw the man who was born blind. Without being asked, Jesus performs the miracle. And the man can see - the light of day enters his eyes for the first time ever. But before the healing miracle, Jesus repeats the words of the previous chapter: "As long as I am in the world, I am the light of the world" (9:5).

So the healing of the blind man is not primarily about explanation - for example, of why the man was blind in the first place - but about revelation - it is a claim about how we can see clearly, how we can live in the light and participate in the new life that is available to us through Jesus.

In the same way, perhaps, a better contemporary doctrine of providence might encourage us to think not about explanations of the causes of great and tragic events - or about the causes of good or bad fortune in our own lives - but instead about how all of the events that make up the life of the world around us can reveal the purposes and the presence of God.

A reflection about this passage that I read recently pointed out that the man in this story who has been blind from birth is failed by just about everyone. The religious leaders reject the source of his healing and want to control the explanation of events - for them, the man himself is just a pawn in their power games. The community in which he lives doesn’t even seem to recognise him after his sight has been restored - to them he was only ever ‘the blind man’, without any other uniqueness or identity in their eyes. The man’s own parents fail to support him, their fear of the backlash causes them to refuse to speak up for him. And so the great irony of the story is that the blind man receives his sight but everyone else in the story remains blind - they are unable to see the man who is blind as a child of God and so they are unable to recognise or participate in what they have witnessed.

God’s character and purposes are revealed in tragedy and suffering just as they are revealed in good circumstances and joy - and the challenge for us is whether or not we are going to be able to see it, and to bear witness to it and participate in it. Human life is precarious - as the events of recent weeks on the world stage remind us - and war and conflict even on the other side of the world ripple anxiety and concern and insecurity even in our own geopolitically secure corner of the globe. People take sides, protests are met with counter-protests, and the fabric of our own society, the trust we need to have in one another, frays and tears. We become unable to see one another as truly human.

As Christians we are certainly called to acts of mercy and compassion wherever there is need, we are called to love wherever the world scatters hatred, and to seek understanding wherever there is ignorance and incomprehension. We are certainly called to pray for peace, for the rebuilding of trust, and for welcoming those who seek refuge in our communities. Where there is blindness and darkness, we are called to bear witness to the light.

And this is providence - that in living the creative and loving purposes of God in the circumstances of our lives we become a blessing to others and in turn we ourselves know the blessings of God.