Sunday, March 15th, 2026, Lent 4, rcl yr a
1 SAMUEL 16:1-13; PSALM 23; EPHESIANS 5:8-14; JOHN 9:1-41
And he worshipped him
Before I get too far along, I’d like to clear the decks a bit on something related to disability in our Gospel reading. We are misled a bit by the translation of verse 3, which reads that the blind man “was born blind so that God’s works might be revealed in him.” The translation over-eggs the pudding a bit, you might say. The translation would lead us to believe that God intentionality has this man be born blind in order that God might be revealed later on—but the text itself is much softer, and not so keen to credit God with the cause of the blindness. The stress is much more on “what God brings out of the situation,” rather than God being the cause of the situation.
So there’s a subtlety here that is good to keep in mind: God’s work is important here, but with a greater stress on God leading the way in offering healing, rather than it is on God being the cause of the blindness. That’s all to say: if we are looking for an answer about God’s role in suffering and/or disability, this is a story less about “why does God let that happen,” and is more about “what is God up to now.” A subtle, but important difference that I hope we come to understand more deeply today.
I also don’t want to lose sight of what is clearly intended here, and as a correction to popular notions about disability—and that is that the blindness is not related to the man’s sin, nor his parents’ sin. In a world where we so often try to find fault in ourselves, or in others, as a way to make sense of disability, Jesus is quite clear that this is not the case. Neither he, nor his parents, caused this through sin. The story is not about blame—neither about blaming God, nor about blaming the man, nor about blaming the parents—it’s a story told about the way in which God takes an opportunity, with the blind man, to bring something new out of a situation that seems fixed. In fact, though the healing of the man born blind sets off a series of events—and is important for this reason—the healing is not the most important thing that happens in this story.
It is another story about Jesus encountering an individual. Two weeks ago we had a story about Nicodemus; last week we had a story about the Samaritan woman; and this week, we have a story about an encounter between Jesus and a man born blind. It is, though, a bit different from the other two encounters, too, in terms of where it ends; both Nicodemus, and the Samaritan woman, serve as examples of growth in faith and understanding, but both leave their encounter leaving some things on the table, so to speak, in terms of how far along they come in their growth in faith and understanding.
Nicodemus leaves his encounter puzzled about what it means to be born from above; the Samaritan woman at the well leaves her encounter quite a bit further along, calling Jesus a prophet and the Messiah. The man born blind, though, is exemplary for the fullness of his growth in faith and understanding. The man born blind begins by accepting Jesus’s ministry of healing; and although he responds initially to others by saying he does not know where Jesus is, he will say then that Jesus is a prophet. There is risk here; if the man healed of his blindness were to confess Jesus as the Messiah, this would create a rift with the Pharisees who were threatening expulsion from the synagogue anyone who was confessing Jesus as Messiah. But the man healed of blindness is willing to testify to what Jesus had done, and identifies himself as a disciple of Jesus, despite the risks. In his argument with the Pharisees, he comes to claim Jesus as one who comes from God.
And then, when Jesus finds again the man healed of his blindness, and Jesus makes the claim that he himself is the Son of Man, the man healed of blindness finally says to Jesus “Lord, I believe,” and he goes where neither Nicodemus, nor the woman at the well, have yet to go: the ultimate sign of his conversion, of his reoriented life, and of his discipleship, and the sign of the depth of his growth in faith and understanding, is that he worships Jesus.
There’s so much to take away here. Jesus was at work in this man’s life, doing extraordinary things for him—particularly here, healing him of blindness—well before any confession of Jesus as a prophet, of Jesus as someone who comes from God, or of Jesus as worthy of worship. The healing of his blindness sets all this into motion—but by the end, the man healed from blindness has grown in faith and understanding to a degree that is only matched by Thomas in John’s Gospel.
This makes a helpful implication for us in our lives, too: Jesus isn’t active in the life of the man healed of blindness, any more than he is active in our lives, because he wants some sort of transaction from us—as if Jesus might say, “if you confess me and worship me, then I will give you many good things.” Instead, Jesus is freely giving already!
And we can say, I hope, that many good things do come as we go deeper in relationship with Jesus. But Jesus isn’t going to withhold the healing of the world waiting for us to get things just right. Life with Jesus is not a loyalty test. It’s about growing in truth and trust.
And there is cost here, too. The man healed of blindness, the further he goes in speaking the truth of Jesus’s kindness, not only goes deeper in faith and understanding of who Jesus is; he goes deeper in suffering, too. His relationship with his family is strained. He is brought before the Pharisees. And he is rejected by his community. In this way, as the man healed of blindness grows in faith and understanding, he becomes more like Jesus: he is interrogated; there is a dispute about who he is; he testifies to who he is, responding, “I am,” as Jesus does elsewhere in John’s Gospel; and he is rejected, a sad state of affairs reflecting the real conflicts of John’s own time, as the church and synagogue were in deep and costly conflict with one another. Growing in faith and understanding can mean growing into the challenge of faith; sometimes this means growing in suffering, too. But suffering as the place where God begins to make for us a new way forward, much as he does for the man healed of blindness.
The final thing I would point out is the way in which the man healed of blindness is an actor in this drama. He is not passive, some slave to the divine will. He participates, in his own limited sort of way, in the transformation he experiences—a transformation where the healing of his sight is but the beginning of his growing close to Jesus.
He goes to the pool to wash when he is asked to go to the pool and wash; he tells the truth of what Jesus did and who Jesus is, even though the truth is costly for him; and finally, in thanksgiving for all Jesus does for him, and in response to who Jesus is— the healed man bends his knee and worships Jesus. This is not a matter of earning his salvation; Jesus accomplishes that. To say anything different would be to say that grace is empty. But upon receiving grace and healing, to be welcomed into Jesus’s world and community, to grow in faith and understanding is to go deeper yet into the life of his beloved community, and to receive a share in eternal life, even now: growth in love of others, growth in trust of others, and growth in faith in others—a love, trust, and faith that has its beginning and end in the word made flesh, but acts too as a sign of human thriving, even now.
Angus Sinclair was appointed Director of Music of St. John the Evangelist on February 1, 2023. Having graduated in 1981 (Honours B.Mus.) in organ performance from Wilfrid Laurier University, he went on to distinguish himself as a church musician, recitalist and accompanist touring in both Canada and the UK. For over 40 years Angus has served parishes and congregations throughout Southwestern Ontario as director of music. He experiences his present appointment to St. John’s as a welcome homecoming, both spiritually and musically.
As our parish musician, he provides both support and leadership so that a variety of parish programs can find musical expression and attract participation. When our handbell choir is in season, he is one of our ringers. At parish dinners, he provides popular piano music for the guests to dine by. For both worship services and concerts, he will rehearse and accompany vocal and instrumental soloists from our congregation on piano, organ, or even accordion.
Angus Sinclair was appointed Director of Music of St. John the Evangelist on February 1, 2023. Having graduated in 1981 (Honours B.Mus.) in organ performance from Wilfrid Laurier University, he went on to distinguish himself as a church musician, recitalist and accompanist touring in both Canada and the UK. For over 40 years Angus has served parishes and congregations throughout Southwestern Ontario as director of music. He experiences his present appointment to St. John’s as a welcome homecoming, both spiritually and musically.