In our Gospel today there seem to be
a lot of people who just do not get
what is really going on.
The disciples ask a question about sin
that appears to be completely off-track;
the blindman’s neighbors get into a debate
about whether it is really the same person
who was blind but now can see;
and the Pharisees ignore the healing
so they can accuse Jesus of breaking the Sabbath.
All of those who think that they can see
seem to be unable to figure out
what is happening before their eyes.
They see a blindman,
and ask the wrong question;
they see a healed man,
and launch into a pointless debate;
they see the Word of God at work,
and accuse him of sin.
They think they can see,
but the light of the world
is darkness to them.
a lot of people who just do not get
what is really going on.
The disciples ask a question about sin
that appears to be completely off-track;
the blindman’s neighbors get into a debate
about whether it is really the same person
who was blind but now can see;
and the Pharisees ignore the healing
so they can accuse Jesus of breaking the Sabbath.
All of those who think that they can see
seem to be unable to figure out
what is happening before their eyes.
They see a blindman,
and ask the wrong question;
they see a healed man,
and launch into a pointless debate;
they see the Word of God at work,
and accuse him of sin.
They think they can see,
but the light of the world
is darkness to them.
All of this is only to be expected
in the world of John’s Gospel.
John tells story after story
about people being clueless,
not getting the point,
misunderstanding Jesus.
Nicodemus doesn’t understand
what Jesus means by being “born from above”;
the woman at the well doesn’t understand
what Jesus means by “living water”;
the crowd doesn’t understand
what Jesus means by “bread from heaven.”
At every turn, Jesus is misunderstood.
But John warns us about this from the outset.
He writes in his very first chapter,
in the opening verses of his Gospel:
“the light shines in the darkness,
and the darkness… auto ou katelaben.”
Now, this Greek phrase might be translated,
as our lectionary does,
“has not overcome it,”
and this is quite correct,
both linguistically and theologically:
the darkness does not overcome the light
that shines forth in Christ.
But the phrase can also be translated
as “has not comprehended it”
or maybe “has not grasped it,”
and this too is quite correct,
both linguistically and theologically:
the darkness does not grasp the light,
the darkness does not get it.
In his typically ironic fashion,
John is saying two things at once:
the light cannot be overcome by darkness
because darkness cannot comprehend the light.
He writes in his very first chapter,
in the opening verses of his Gospel:
“the light shines in the darkness,
and the darkness… auto ou katelaben.”
Now, this Greek phrase might be translated,
as our lectionary does,
“has not overcome it,”
and this is quite correct,
both linguistically and theologically:
the darkness does not overcome the light
that shines forth in Christ.
But the phrase can also be translated
as “has not comprehended it”
or maybe “has not grasped it,”
and this too is quite correct,
both linguistically and theologically:
the darkness does not grasp the light,
the darkness does not get it.
In his typically ironic fashion,
John is saying two things at once:
the light cannot be overcome by darkness
because darkness cannot comprehend the light.
Those who fail to understand Jesus
show themselves to be in darkness.
And to grasp fully who Jesus is,
and the truth of what he says and does,
is to pass, like the man born blind,
from darkness to light.
It is to seek to see,
not as human beings do,
judging by appearance,
but as God sees,
looking into the heart.
It is to live as a child of light,
producing “every kind of goodness
and righteousness and truth.”
But there can be a temptation for us here.
We can be tempted to think
that the world divides up neatly
into light and darkness.
We can be tempted to think that we
who have been marked with the waters of baptism,
who profess Jesus as the world’s Lord and light,
and who come faithfully to church on Sunday,
must surely be standing fully on the side of light,
must surely be seeing as God sees,
must surely be living as children of light.
Surely we must be the ones who comprehend the light,
the ones who get what is really going on.
The season of Lent, however,
tells us something different,
for Lent reminds us of our own blindness.
The annual return
of this season of repentance and conversion
tells us that, in this life, we never grasp fully
the light that has come into the world.
Our lives are punctuated each year
by the call to turn away from sin
and believe in the Gospel.
Our lives are punctuated each week
by our confession that we have sinned
through our own deliberate fault.
Our lives are punctuated each day
by our prayer that God
would forgive us our trespasses.
Lent reminds us
that the line between darkness and light
lies not outside us but within us,
that even we who have truly
become light in the Lord
must hear again the call:
“Awake, O sleeper,
and arise from the dead,
and Christ will give you light.”
“I came into this world for judgment,
so that those who do not see might see,
and those who do see might become blind.”
Jesus comes as the light of the world
to illuminate the dark corners of our hearts,
so that the truth might be manifest,
and all our masks and pretenses be stripped away.
To see this light is both
to be dazzled by its brilliance
and to comprehend our own blindness.
It is to see that we ourselves are often
those who just don’t get what is really going on:
who ask the wrong questions,
who engage in pointless debates,
who accuse others of sin.
But it is also to see the possibility of joy,
for it is to see that our darkness
cannot overcome that light—
that even if we cannot grasp it,
it has grasped us,
and it will not let us go
until the last dark corner of our soul
is flooded with the light of glory.
May these remaining days of Lent
be for us ones of light and joy in the Lord
and may God have mercy on us all.
