Shining the Light of Christ On Our Darkness
by Fr. Rich Andre, C.S.P.
March 21, 2023

Paulist Fr. Rich Andre preached this homily for the 4th Sunday of Lent (Year A) on March 19, 2023 at the Paulist Center in Boston, MA. The homily is based on the day’s readings: 1 Samuel 16:1-13; Psalm 23; Ephesians 5:8-14; and John 9:1-41.


AUTHOR’S NOTE: This homily does not directly address the concerns of two groups who may feel marginalized by the symbolism used in today’s readings: people with physical disabilities and people of color. For theological reflections to help us become more sensitive to the dangers of equating light or vision with good, and darkness or blindness with evil, Rev. Allison Connelly-Vetter, a minister with expertise in disability theology and Christian ableism, recommends two resources:

  1. “Holy Blackness: The Matrix of Creation” by Wil Gafney
  2. March 17, 2023 Facebook reflection by Bekah Maren Anderson

Our gospel story today is one of the greatest literary passages in the Bible. As we listen, let’s pay attention to two literary elements that John uses. These elements are picked up by our other readings.

The first element is symbolism. In the Gospel of John, the dominant symbol is vision and blindness. John uses sight as a symbol for the ability to believe in Jesus Christ. Likewise, in our first reading, we have a story of God’s reality being different than what human beings first perceive. In our Ephesians reading, the symbolism moves from vision and blindness to light and dark.

The second literary element is dramatic irony. It is ironic in John that the scholars of the Jewish Law are obstinately blind to Jesus’ power. Similarly, Jesse and Samuel fail to understand that someone who has received God’s favor may not necessarily look that impressive.

For the times when we have refused to acknowledge God’s presence in our own lives, we ask for God’s mercy.


Jesus gives sight to a person born blind – a miracle of the highest degree. In his successive encounters with Jesus, the man comes to deeper faith. First, he calls him “Jesus,” then “a prophet,” then a person “from God,” and finally, “Lord.” Yet the Pharisees refuse to see the obvious power Jesus accesses through his relationship with God, the Almighty. How could the Pharisees refuse to see?

We all fail to see things that seem obvious to everyone else. Samuel tells Jesse that God has chosen one of his sons to be king of Israel. Yet, after Samuel announces that Jesse’s first seven sons are not chosen by God, Jesse doesn’t think to tell Samuel about his eighth son. How could Jesse refuse to see?

Our refusal to see something is not necessarily a sin. Sometimes, we’re afraid of imagining the world to be as wonderful as God intends it to be. One of the life skills we need to learn is adaptability, the ability to look at things from more than one perspective. As St. John Henry Newman said: “To live is to change, and to be perfect is to have changed often.” People who are rigid have a hard time growing. Like withered plants, they become brittle, easy to break. 

This Lent, the Holy Spirit has gently encouraged me to grow, to change, to see an aspect of myself from a new perspective. Roughly five years ago, I think my attitude about how I work became sclerotic. I’d become convinced that if I just worked harder, got better organized, and took fewer breaks, I could get caught up on all the administrative tasks on my plate and still do all the amazing life-giving ministry I love to do. But this Lent, I’ve come to recognize that no matter how hard I work, I’m chronically behind on correspondence and to-do lists in both my work life and my personal life. I’ve beat myself up for years, accusing myself of being lazy and disorganized. But the Holy Spirit has revealed that it’s a different kind of problem. 

I need to grow, but maybe the growth is to better understand that I am limited. I need a new perspective, but maybe that perspective is to unburden myself of my own unreasonable self-imposed expectations. I need to change, but maybe the change I need is for me to finally ask for help with the parts of my life that I’ve been too embarrassed to admit that I need help with. 

It’s just as uncomfortable to speak about this publicly as you might imagine, but I’ve got to bring this out into the light. As Ephesians proclaims, “light produces every kind of goodness and righteousness and truth.” When I finally admitted my inadequacy to a group of Paulist Center Community members this past week, several of them made sincere, specific offers to help me. I broke into tears. 

I guess that I have bought too deeply into the American standard of “success” requiring us to be independent. But God has made us interdependent! Maybe my tears are just what I need to soften my heart, to make it more pliable.

This Lent, has the Holy Spirit invited you to bend in new ways, to open your eyes to new possibilities in your relationship with God? Sometimes it’s scary to look at things from a new perspective, from a view that puts us in a less flattering light. But remember, the word “Lent” means springtime. Maybe we’ll grow this Lent by pruning back some of our overly grandiose expectations of ourselves. Maybe the strongest son doesn’t make the best leader. Maybe our electronic inboxes don’t indicate our worth.

The man born blind, by receiving sight, was forced into the political drama that the Pharisees used in their attempts to trip up Jesus. Yet, he rose to the situation, boldly proclaiming his faith, just as Claire, Naz, Murphy, Krystin, and Morgan will boldly stand before us in three weeks at the Easter Vigil as they receive the sacraments of initiation into the Catholic faith. 

But before we reach the end of our Lenten journey, I have two questions for all of us to consider:

  1. What are the shadows deep inside of us that scare us? 
  2. Instead of expending our energy in hiding our shadows, could we devote that same energy to shining the light of Christ on them? 

The Pharisees claimed to see God’s work in the world, and yet they remained stubbornly blind. But there is hope for all of us. Not all the Pharisees remained blind. The Bible tells us of at least two particular Pharisees who gained insight into Jesus’ true identity. The story of the first Pharisee is in the Gospel of John itself – Nicodemus, who first came to Jesus in the dark of night in chapter 3, only haltingly comprehending who Jesus was, but whom we will see again on Good Friday in the middle of the afternoon in chapter 19, caring for the body of the crucified Christ. And the Pharisee who came to be Christ’s most powerful advocate, giving his entire life – both his strengths and his weaknesses – to the gospel? His name was Paul. But before Paul was able to see, he was literally struck blind for three days. 

When we’re brave enough to examine our shadows, we rob the darkness of its power. What we hear in the dark, we must speak in the light. We are salt for the earth. We are light for the world.


Photo credit (for image featured on home page): Chris (a.k.a. MoiVous) under CC BY-NC-ND 2.0 license