John 9:1-41
So John is telling us about still
another miracle of Jesus, right? And the Pharisees are up to their
usual tricks, right? And the apostles come across as a little dense,
as usual. And I the end Jesus comes across as the only adult in the
room. And that's about it, I suppose. Now we can get back to
thinking about what we are going to do when Mass is over.
But I don't think any of that is why
John tells us this story and spends so much time on the details. I
think he is inviting us to look at those Pharisees and look
carefully. Because maybe that's where we are in the story.
The blind man is healed. And the
first thing the Pharisees debate is whether it is that same blind
beggar, or someone who looks like him. The man himself says, “That
was me”. They ask him, “how did you gain your sight?” He
tells his story. Now they have another problem. Since this healing
took place on the Sabbath, the healer violated the Sabbath so
couldn't possibly have performed a miracle. “How can a sinner
perform such signs?” So they send for the man again, who sticks to
his guns. Then they ask the man's parents if he really was blind from
birth. They say yes. Then the Pharisees go to the man a third time,
and accuse him of lying. He turns their own logic on them; if only
the godly can call upon God for a miracle, then obviously this Jesus
is of God. And the Pharisees finally give up and kick him out of the
synagogue.
We might say those Pharisees are
prejudiced. They refuse to believe what is as plain as can be –
that a man who was blind has been healed by Jesus. It just doesn't
fit their belief system, so it couldn't have happened. This of
course isn't the only place where Jesus encourages his followers to
see things as they really are, to get past all the pre-judging we do
before we look. You remember the story of the Good Samaritan –
told by Jesus to people who believed the only good Samaritan was a
dead one. Or the story of the Rich Young Man where the apostles
learned that being rich does not guarantee your salvation; you can't
buy your way into heaven.
And it may be that Jesus was talking
about this issue another time when he told his disciples that they
had to become like little children if they wanted to enter the
kingdom of heaven. I recently entertained one of my smaller
grandchildren. She looked at me and told me I didn't have hair on
the top of my head. Another time she told me I was very tall. At
least she didn't tell me I smelled bad. But like any little child,
she calls them like she see's them. No prejudice, no holding back,
to her, what you see is what you get.
Our Church has an incredible
collection of great thinkers, from the Apostle Paul to Pope Benedict,
from Augustine to Theresa of Liseaux. One thing they had in common
was the idea that part of being a faithful follower of Jesus was an
earnest passion for the truth. And if we want to perceive the truth,
we have to know where we have prejudices. When we use that word, of
course, we think of issues having to do with race, religion, people
who speak other languages; but everything we think we know is sort
of a prejudice. And if we think we know something our tendency is
not to think about that – or, if we are forced to confront a
reality that tells us that what we thought is wrong, we tend to get
upset. That, of course, is what is polarizing our nation; no one is
willing to change his mind, even when the evidence is there.
Why should we care? Why should we
confront our prejudices and try to appreciate reality without
blinders? Why should we admit, in all humility, that we might be
wrong about something, that a deeply held belief might be an error?
The answer is that what we believe
governs what we do. Out of false beliefs come sin and futility in
what we do. If we lie to ourselves, we lead sterile lives. If we
believe that God favors one group of people more than another, we are
denying his infinite love for everyone. If we say that some human
beings are not worth keeping around because they are burdens, we deny
that to God every human being has purpose and is irreplaceable in his
plan. Even false beliefs about the natural world can be harmful. We
may believe that climate change is not happening – or we may
believe we will soon face a catastrophe of planetary proportions.
What we believe will influence what we choose to do, and if we are
wrong, all kinds of harm can come from a wrong belief. Doesn't it
make sense to seek the truth about this issue rather than side with
whichever celebrity or politician is most persuasive? And the same
could be said of many other things. But there is more.
Father Ronald Rolhauser makes an
interesting point. God is, among other things, Truth. Thomas
Aquinas said God was perfect Unity, perfect Goodness, and perfect
Truth. We think of the “next life” as heaven, hell, and
purgatory, and our human minds conceive of these as “places”.
But maybe another way to describe the afterlife is that we will see
God without blinders, without the filter of our prejudices, and if we
have been in love with truth, we will enter into his perfect life.
If we have a lot a prejudgments, we will probably have some pain as
we confront truth – like the Pharisees did in this story, like we
all do when a deeply held belief is shown to be wrong. And if the
Truth of standing before God is too much for us, if we absolutely
refuse to dismiss our prejudices, if we decide we hate the truth, as
the Pharisees did, well, that's hell.
So there are lots of reasons for
Catholics to love the truth, to seek it out, to clear away the
cobwebs of prejudice, to listen to each other and to the saints and
the scriptures and our Church. God is Love, John tells us. And
Jesus calls himself the Truth. Truth and Love – what a wonderful
combination for God's people.
