Fourth Sunday in Lent, rcl yr a, 2023
1 SAMUEL 16:1-13; PSALM 23; EPHESIANS 5:8-14; JOHN 9:1-41

He said, “Lord, I believe.” And he worshipped him.

Jake Lamotta did not begin life with much promise. As a boy in the Bronx, his father would make him fight other boys to entertain neighbourhood adults; the pocket change thrown in the ring would be collected by Lamotta’s father to pay the rent.

When Lamotta went into youth detention, though, he learned how to box. In 1943 he was the first to defeat Sugar Ray Robinson, and later, for throwing a fight for the Mafia, he earned twenty thousand dollars and a chance at the championship. He won, and was crowned World Middleweight Champion in 1949.

But he would lose the belt though in less than 2 years. After boxing he would become a stage performer and comedian; and he would spend some time in jail. Throughout his life Lamotta would be married seven times. He was a man whose jealousy and rage would alienate most of his family and friends.

Martin Scorsese’s landmark film about Lamotta, Raging Bull, ends with Lamotta waiting to go onstage for a comedy routine. In reciting some dialogue Scorsese makes it seem that Lamotta has begun to understand himself; “I’m a bum,” he says. For Scorsese, Raging Bull was about “a guy attaining something and losing everything, and then redeeming himself.”

And so the last thing we see in Scorsese’s film are words from today’s gospel: “So, for the second time, [the Pharisees] summoned the man who had been blind and said: ‘Speak the truth before God. We know this fellow is a sinner.’ ‘Whether or not he is a sinner, I do not know,’the man replied ‘All I know is this: once I was blind and now I can see.’” For Scorsese, exploring his own Roman Catholic roots, even Lamotta—jealous, violent, jailed for criminality, could find a way to some kind of redemption.

Those final words of the film, however, weren’t intended to be so clear about Lamotta’s redemption. The film was supposed to end with the John’s Gospel reading from two weeks ago: “Verily, verily I say unto thee except a man be born again, he cannot enter into the kingdom of heaven.

Scorsese’s collaborator, screenwriter Paul Schrader, had written that ending because he did not imagine Lamotta on the road to redemption. “I had no idea it was going to be there,” said the screenwriter, “and when I saw [that Scorsese had changed the text from “except a man be born again, he cannot enter into the kingdom of heaven” to “once I was blind and now I can see”] I was absolutely baffled. I don’t think it’s true of La Motta either in real life or in the movie; I think he’s the same dumb lug at the end as at the beginning …”

If being born again, or if our redemption or our salvation happens in an instant—if we were to go from unredeemed and unsaved to fully redeemed and saved in a flash, exactly when and when does this happen to the man born blind?

In the story of the man born blind in John’s Gospel we have, as a central figure, a person who starts with no knowledge of Jesus whatsoever. At best, the man born blind was just in the right place at the right time. He doesn’t know Jesus is there, he doesn’t ask Jesus to do anything for him.

Nevertheless, Jesus chooses this man to reveal God’s glory. The man is sent away to wash off his muddy eyes, and he does so, in the process regaining his sight.

After he goes home the man still knows very little about Jesus, but he can be a witness, he can tell others what Jesus did for him; but at the same time, he doesn’t know where Jesus is.

But then after that when he is being questioned by the Pharisees he gives witness to what Jesus did for him; and now he tells them that Jesus is a prophet, getting closer to who Jesus is, but not quite able to speak of the fullness of who Jesus is.

Then when the Pharisees ask him again, he says coyly, ‘I already told you what he did; do you want to be his disciples too?’ And then he makes another step into the fullness of who Jesus is, saying that Jesus is from God.

And finally, Jesus finds the man, and the man says, ‘I do believe in you, Jesus, you are the Son of Man,’ and the man born blind falls on his knees, and worships Jesus, now recognizing the full significance of who Jesus is: Son of Man, Son of God, worthy of worship.

And so I ask again, if being born again, or if our redemption or our salvation happens in an instant, in a flash, if we were to go from unredeemed and unsaved to fully redeemed and saved in a moment, exactly where and when does this happen to the man born blind?

When Jesus first steps into his life?

When he regains his sight?

When he calls Jesus a prophet?

When he invites others to be disciples?

When he says that Jesus is from God?

When he calls Jesus Son of Man?

Or when he falls on his knees in worship?

John doesn’t tell us, does he—and that’s because this is a story of discipleship, of following Jesus, and learning to follow Jesus doesn’t happen all of a sudden. We learn to follow Jesus by following Jesus, and as we follow Jesus we grow in faith and trust and knowledge.

And what this story tells us is that our salvation doesn’t happen all at once, because discipleship isn’t a matter of going from lack of faith, to faith, in an instant. Faith grows.

This is partly why I would like us to imagine St. John’s as a community of communities, but with worship at our centre. Many of us are in different places, some earlier in faith, some later in faith. We are all here though because in some way, Jesus has stepped into our lives, and done perhaps something big to catch our attention, or perhaps Jesus has done some small thing to capture our attention. You may be watching at home wondering, you may be here ready to fall on your knees, some may not be here at all, just joining in one of our small groups. Some may simply be reading my sermons on the website!

But we are all disciples, all on the way, growing in faith—growing in the way of conversion, growing in the way of redemption, growing in the way of salvation. We are all in different places, but we are all following Jesus, we are all disciples. And no matter where you are, Jesus will be here and ready for you to fall on your knees and worship.

And so I want to say of Jake Lamotta  and the story told in Raging Bull that both Martin Scorsese and Paul Schrader were probably both just a bit too concerned about Lamotta’s salvation. I would rather hope that Lamotta was simply on the way, making small and modest headway. We can hope that Jesus stepped in and began that process.

Because all it takes is for Jesus to start, to step in, to catch our attention in some small way, to catch our attention or in some big way—and here we are, each of us, living the struggle, following Jesus, not becoming disciples but simply by Jesus grabbing our attention we are disciples, and we make some modest start, with Jesus drawing us ever closer to him, drawing us closer in love, in trust, and in knowledge—because it is him who does not reject, but him who from the height of the cross is drawing all people closer and closer to himself.

The Revd Dr. Preston Parsons