This is the fourth Sunday of Lent. Our texts have been
leading us on a journey, a journey toward Easter, toward resurrection, and a
journey through some of the stories of John’s gospel.
John opens his gospel by announcing to us that Jesus is God
made flesh, living among us, the light not only of his people, but of the
world. God has broken into our reality. God is incarnated, infleshed, among us.
God has become one of us, entered into solidarity with us. And this breaking in
of God into our world is like a great light dawning.
And, in each of our readings, John has brought forward a
witness to this inbreaking of God. Nicodemus, a scared religious leader, who
comes by night to Jesus to find out more about this new prophet of Israel. A
Samaritan woman, a woman of a different religion, a woman despised by her
neighbors, who speaks with Jesus and then bears witness to her entire town.
And, today, in our reading, a young man born blind, who panhandles on the side
of the road, bears witness before his entire town and religious community.
I am fascinated by how John consistently chooses people
disrespected in their wider culture to bring the good news in his gospel. Like
this young man in our text; a nobody, just a beggar at the side of the road.
The God who becomes flesh, becomes flesh in an obscure
region of the Roman Empire, in Nazareth of Galilee. Not in Rome, the political
center. Not even in Jerusalem, the center of Jewish religious life. In Galilee.
All through John’s gospel, people ask; “Can anything good come from
Nazareth—that tiny village of peasants, farmers, nobodies?" The religious
leaders dismiss him entirely—no decent prophet ever comes from Galilee.
And so the people who bear witness to Jesus in John’s gospel
are also nobodies in the eyes of the world around them. They are people told
over and over by the Empire under which they live that they are unimportant.
This whole region suffers terribly under the Roman Empire—deeply impoverished,
living and working on land they did not own, harassed by the roman
military. Only a few decades after
Jesus’ death and resurrection, most of the region is utterly destroyed by a
Roman army. They are poor, despised, non-citizens, and considered powerless.
But they are not powerless in John’s gospel. Those who have
no dignity under empire are called children of God. Those who are considered
powerless are called by Jesus to participate in the great work of liberation
and redemption.
Our gospel this morning tells the story of a man born blind.
It seems that he was pretty young, since his parents are called to answer for
him and have to argue that he is of age (13, by the way). Not able to work in
his society, apparently his family could not support him and so it seems he
spent his days panhandling and was known as a local beggar. The text does not
say where Jesus is at the time of this healing, but almost everyone would have
been poor in whatever town Jesus was in at the time. But this young man would
have been pretty much at the bottom of the socioeconomic heap.
So much so, that locals look at him and wonder what he has
done wrong, what mistakes he has made. Clearly, he must be a sinner.
When people look at this blind man, they see someone worthy
of pity, but not a full human being.
When Jesus turns to look at him, Jesus sees him for who he
truly is. Jesus sees his full humanity, as a child of God, called to bear
witness to the glory of God.
And Jesus heals him. A simple and a profound act of healing.
The God who comes in flesh heals not just our souls but our bodies; is
concerned about our lives.
This act, however, brings a firestorm of controversy over
Jesus. The religious leaders are angry that he healed on the Sabbath, angry
that Jesus is there at all, angry at Jesus’ message. The people of this village
are curious and asking questions. But the religious leaders are so angry they call
the young man in and ask him question after question. Then they call his
parents in. They simply refuse to believe the story this young man repeats to
them over and over.
But this young man will not back down from his story. Jesus
healed me. He says it over and over, simply, patiently, not so patiently. “I
was blind and now I see.”
Why are the religious leaders so angry? Is it because they
feel that Jesus is getting too much attention? Or are they angry that Jesus
chooses to call people like the Samaritan woman with a questionable past, or
this young man they only think of as a beggar? Are they angry because their
assumptions about how the world works are getting challenged?
I started street ministry three years ago, on the streets of
Boston while I was in seminary. I joined this ministry and went out there,
thinking that I had so much to offer. I was going to bring my gifts to people.
I was going to help people.
Well, it didn’t work out that way at all. My assumptions of
how the world worked—that there were people who helped and there were poor
people that got helped—was overturned completely. I found the gospel preached
to me by people our society told me were nobodies.
I didn’t save anyone. They converted me instead. They taught
me about faith in the hardest of circumstances. They taught me about love and
community when the going got rough. They taught me about courage.
In the text, this blind boy who was healed—this beggar—this
panhandler—this homeless person is the bringer of the gospel He is the preacher
of the gospel in our text.
Jesus turns the tables on people’s assumptions.
They believe that this panhandling blind man has made bad
choices, is a sinner, and is unworthy not only of God’s mercy but of being
chosen to bring good news.
Jesus turns the table on them.
And, so, there is a trend in the Bible. We see it in our
first reading, when a young David, who was not even invited to his father’s
feast because he was thought to be too insignificant, too young is anointed by
God to be king.
I want you to listen to this very closely. God calls, over
and over in the Bible, God calls people that the world says are insignificant,
useless, poor, weak, stupid, you name it.
God reveals himself in the person of Jesus Christ in a bunch
of tiny villages in Galilee, in the middle of nowhere.
Jesus chooses a poor blind kid that makes his living begging
in streetcorners to tell of the good news.
Perhaps this is the most important news we can hear.
When I tell people I live in Montesano or work in Aberdeen,
most people outside this area can’t even find these places on the map. But the
God who came to Galilee calls us, here and now, to be the light of the world.
And when I go down under the bridge every week or when I
walk and talk with folks, I hear the good news here in Aberdeen. People who
have nothing share everything. People who have two blankets give one to a
friend. People who are outcast from the wider community create their own
community.
So I tell you this. If you have ever felt like a nobody, if
you have ever felt like your life doesn’t matter, if you have ever felt like
you are wasting your life in this small town, listen now. God has a call on
your life. You are the bringers, my friends, of the good news.
