FOURTH SUNDAY OF LENT

There is an ancient Chinese legend of a wise old man and his only son. 

One night, the old man’s horse escaped.  His neighbors came to comfort him for his loss.  The wise man asked them, “How do you know this is a bad thing?”

Several days later, the horse returned, this time with a herd of wild horses.  Now his neighbors came back to congratulate him on his good fortune.  Again, the wise man asked, “How do you know this is a good thing?”

Soon after, the wise man’s son tried to tame one of the wild horses.  He was thrown from the horse and broke his leg.  Once more, the neighbors came to express their sorrow.  But the wise man asked, “How do you know this is a bad thing?”

Not long afterward, a warlord came through the village to recruit young men for his army.  When he discovered the son’s broken leg, the boy was exempt from service.  The neighbors returned again, this time rejoicing in his good luck.  Once more, the wise man replied, “How do you know this is a good thing?”           

This could go on forever.  But the moral of the story is clear: bad fortune may turn out to be a blessing and good fortune can quickly turn against us.

Our Gospel today, as we begin the fourth week of our Lenten journey, is John’s story of how bad fortune, in this case being born blind, may actually be a blessing. 

This is a Gospel story that moves:

• From darkness to light.
• From unbelief to belief.
• From being blind at birth, to being given sight.
• From the blind man who first viewed Jesus as just another man to finally calling him Lord.

Do not confuse the blind man in today’s Gospel with the blind man found in the Synoptic Gospels of Matthew, Mark and Luke.  In those accounts, the blind man is named Bartimaeus.  We are told that Bartimaeus cried out to Jesus, “Jesus, have pity on me.”  

John’s account is quite different.  We are not told this blind man’s name.  He does not call out for help.  Instead, Jesus notices him.  Jesus initiates the encounter and heals him out of pure kindness.

Notice, too, that it is the disciples who raise the thorny moral question, “Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents?” 

In the time of Jesus, people believed that all suffering was the result of sin.  Jesus makes it clear that this man’s blindness was not caused by sin, neither his own nor his parents’.

So, the question we ask today is:  Why does God allow this to happen?  

I am not so sure I like Jesus’ answer, “… it is so that the works of God might be made visible through Him.”    

Like the Chinese legend, bad fortune can be a blessing, and good fortune can be a curse.  How do we know? 

The life of Helen Keller helps illustrate how a bad fortune may become a blessing and how God can bring good out of suffering.

Helen Keller was a healthy child until the age of eighteen months, when an illness left her both blind and deaf.  Her early years were turbulent.  She was intelligent but unable to communicate, and her frustration often led to anger.

When Helen was seven, help arrived in the person of Anne Sullivan.  Through patience and perseverance, Anne taught Helen to communicate using hand spelling, sign language, Braille and eventually speech.

Against overwhelming odds, Helen Keller graduated cum laude from Radcliffe College in 1904, becoming the first deaf-blind person to earn a bachelor’s degree. Despite her blindness and deafness, her suffering revealed the good works of God through Anne Sullivan’s dedication and Helen’s determination.

Someone once said to her, “What a pity you have no sight.”  Helen Keller replied, “Maybe, but what a pity so many have sight, but cannot see.”

The blind man in John’s Gospel was humble, obedient and courageous.

Humble because he let Jesus make clay with salvia and put it on his eyes.  Obedient because he did exactly what Jesus told him to do: to go and wash in the Pool of Siloam. Courageous because he was not afraid of the authorities and openly proclaimed that the man who healed him was the Lord.

The Pharisees ridiculed the man who could now see and did the only thing that made sense to them: they threw him out of the temple.

I wonder if this isn’t our own story.  Let me share a few parallels from my own life:

• Like the blind man, blind from birth, I was born into a world darkened by sin.

• Like the blind man who washed in the Pool of Siloam, I was washed clean in the baptismal waters of grace. 

• Like the blind man, I was healed not because of anything I did.  I was baptized not because of my own merit, but because of the faith of my parents, who wanted me surrounded by God’s light and grace from the very beginning.
• And, like the blind man who was ridiculed and cast out for believing in Jesus, I am sometimes criticized for standing as an intentional disciple.  One who joyfully professes that Jesus is my personal Savior.  I stand up for the sanctity of all life and the gospel values of our faith.

Do you see any parallels in your own life? 

Bad fortune can be a blessing.  Good fortune can be a curse.