Open My Eyes

 

4^th Sunday of Lent

Cycle B – Scrutiny

 

What would it be like to be born blind? What would life be like if we never had experienced light, with nothing to compare the darkness to?

 

We equate darkness with evil. We call Satan the Prince of Darkness, and we fear the dark. Because we can see we feel uncomfortable in the dark. We fear the unknown, we fear what we cannot control. We’re afraid we’ll stumble and fall in the dark. Darkness is frightening for us only because we know the difference between light and darkness. If we were born blind we would never have experienced light, so darkness would hold no fear for us. For one born blind, who has never experienced the light, stumbling and falling is a natural thing. Relying on the help of others is a requirement for survival.

 

This gospel begins with Jesus’ own disciples asking a question based upon a belief all Jews had at the time – that physical weakness and disease meant you or your family were steeped in sin. If you were a sinner God punished you with infirmity. If you were righteous you were healthy, wealthy and wise. Everybody believed this: the Pharisees did, the disciples did, and the blind man himself did.

 

The blind man could not enter the temple. Everybody said he shouldn’t be there, and he himself thought he shouldn’t be there. He also thought he was unworthy to be in the presence of God, just because he was blind. He was reduced to begging at the door. The people who passed him every day saw him as unworthy, beneath them, worthless to God and man. And so he saw himself as unworthy and worthless. How could he ever become worthy? How could he ever come in out of the darkness and be included among the seeing?

 

The saddest thing about the blind man is that he bought into his culture’s prejudices and allowed them to make him feel less about himself, to alienate himself from God and his community. Even today, we can allow outside influences to keep us from God. We can beat ourselves up so much that we actually stay away from God. How wretched you must feel to keep yourself from God. Have you ever not come to Mass because you felt unworthy? Or stayed away because you were not in the “right frame of mind” to receive the Eucharist; that you just didn’t think you could come to Mass with all those people there and try to pretend that everything was ok? Why just go through the motions?

 

Do you think that you shouldn’t come to Mass if you haven’t exactly been living a perfect Christian life lately? I mean, why add one more hypocrite to the mix? Do you think that you have to have it all together in order to worship the Lord? I’m not perfect, so I’ll stay away. Does Jesus really only call the righteous? If that were the case there’d be no one here. It’s sort of like saying that I’m starving, so I really shouldn’t come to the banquet. The very thing you think you should avoid is the thing you really need. Sometimes we blind ourselves to what we’re really doing here.

 

It’s ironic that the best way to become worthy of the Eucharist is to experience the Eucharist. None of us can ever make ourselves worthy of being here. If blindness is equated with sinfulness, then we’re all born blind, aren’t we? Only God can make us worthy, just by willing it so. So we have a choice, to beat ourselves up for not being worthy or to accept the grace of God that allows us to see. To exclude ourselves from the banquet or to humbly accept the invitation.

 

Today we hear a story that closely parallels those of our elect who are here with us this morning. Like the blind man, they’re on the outside looking in. Not really sure what they’re seeing. Jesus calls them forth. He makes them uncomfortable at times and calls them to the waters. They do not know the way, so others need to help them get there .When their eyes are opened, they still are not sure exactly who Jesus is, even when he is right in front of them. They come up against opposition. The entrenched prejudices of others try to derail their journey. Sometimes they are thrown out. Sometimes others try to keep them in their places. Finally, Jesus comes to them in the light and they recognize him for who he is. They have become his disciples.

 

It’s funny, isn’t it, that the ones who thought they were worthy – the Pharisees – were the ones that Jesus said were blind. Their sin was their prejudice against people like the blind man, people they thought were sinners. They could not see their own shortcomings, and that we’re all blind in one way or another. And I am blind about many, many things. I am blind to the plight of the poor because I have never gone hungry in my life. I am blind to prejudice because I have never really experienced it personally. I am blind to the hurts suffered by other people because I am so focused on my own.

I guess in many ways we’re all Pharisees; we’re the good church going folks who think we have all the answers. We’re the ones who go along with the conventional wisdom of our day, blinded to how we are actually making things worse in our ignorance.

 

This morning we are celebrating the second scrutiny for our elect. We’re not here to scrutinize them. They’re here to scrutinize themselves. We all need to scrutinize ourselves. That scrutiny can be painful, but it must be undertaken with open eyes. Only then can we remove the blindness from our hearts. Blindness to our own sinfulness, and blindness to the needs of others, no matter how sinful they have been.

In many ways these elect see more than we do. They hunger for the light that we take so easily for granted, and they don’t have all the barnacles we good Pharisees have built up on our carcasses over time. But just as they have needed our help to see from time to time, we too can draw on their light as we all stumble together towards our Lord.

 

Open my eyes, Lord. Help me to see your face… in everyone. Open my eyes, Lord. Help me to see.

 

Falling in Love with Jesus

 

3^rd Sunday of Lent (Scrutiny)

This is a love story.

This is the story of all of us, but in particular, it is the story of our elect with us today who have been searching, praying, and drawing closer to Jesus these past several months. And that is why we have read these readings today, because we have our elect present. At all the other Masses today we will hear different readings, but the Church says we must read these readings today, for them to hear, because they are nearing the completion of this stage of their faith journey, to enter fully into the life and love of Jesus in his Church through baptism, confirmation and first eucharist at the Easter Vigil.

Many people think that the RCIA program is all about knowledge, all about learning about the Catholic Church, and partly it is. But mostly, it is about falling in love. There are lots of people who have knowledge of the Church and its teachings, but not a lot of us are actually in love with it. There are lots of people who have a rudimentary knowledge of Jesus, but not a lot of us are actually in love with Him. Because knowledge is not enough.

Unless we move beyond just knowledge to love, our faith will never be fulfilled. It is through reason that we understand with the head. It is through prayer and contemplation and worship that we understand with the heart. If all you have is book learning then your faith has no motivation. If all you have is emotion, your faith has no roots. It is like the person Jesus said builds his house on sand. When trials and tribulations blow there is no conviction there to keep it from being torn down.

Just like there are stages of grief, there are stages of love. And the woman at the well goes through all of them. This seems almost like a sparring match, sort of like an old romantic movie. There’s a chemistry between Jesus and the woman, a reaching out, a pushing back, and gradually the woman comes closer to Jesus who is calling her to conversion.

First there is a connection. Sometimes it’s a strong attraction and sometimes it’s tentative. This is followed by a mutual give and take where both people reveal things about themselves over time. This either leads to a stronger attraction and more revelation that leads to knowledge of the other, and a growing sense of trust. Only after trust is established can love truly happen.

The woman at the well came to love Jesus only after he “told me everything I have ever done”. But that was not what turned her heart. Everyone in her village knew her past. It was the fact that even though he had such intimate knowledge of her and her life, he did not judge her for it like her neighbors did. Instead, he offered her eternal life. How liberating that must have felt for someone who felt so ostracized and worthless that she had to go to the well in the middle of the hot day, when no other people were expected to be there! Jesus gave her back her dignity. He spoke to her when he wasn’t supposed to. He conversed with her as an equal, without looking down on her. And he offered her himself, the life-giving water that would change her life forever.

And like anyone who has fallen in love, she ran and told everyone about it. She told her neighbors who had totally ostracized her that she had found the messiah, and she was compelled to bring them to him. How much courage that must have taken! But people in love do great acts of courage without thought sometimes, without considering the consequences.

We are all the woman at the well. We all have a past that includes things we aren’t particularly proud of. We all have sinned and have felt the worthlessness sin can bring. And we have all encountered Jesus in some way or other. Some of us have moved our relationship with him to another level, to the level of trust. Some of us have gone all the way to love. We have fallen in love with Jesus.

This morning we are celebrating the first scrutiny for our elect. There will be two more in the weeks to come. They’re not here to bare their souls to anyone, and we’re not here to scrutinize them. They have been scrutinizing themselves for a long time, and today we’re here to accept them as they are, just as Jesus accepts them for who they are. Just as he accepted the woman at the well.

We will share with them the statement of our beliefs. We will profess once again the truths that have been revealed to us by God himself, the truths that make us Christian, the truths that bind us together, the truths that lead us to love of God and of one another, the truths that lead us to eternal life.

The woman at the well was faithful to her understanding of her beliefs, but that alone would not ensure her salvation. It was not until she had a conversation with her God, one to one, face to face, did she begin to understand. And that conversation was brutal and honest. It brought into the light what had been going on in the darkness. We are all called by Jesus to that conversation. Our elect even more so. But that conversation should not be something to fear; it is necessary to remove the barriers we have set up to loving God. Just as we must move from knowledge to trust to love of God, we need to confront our own selves with all our imperfections, if we can allow ourselves to trust, if we can allow ourselves to be loved.