Light from the Mud: Homily for the Fourth Sunday of Lent

Today is Laetare Sunday, which is why we are wearing rose today. We are over halfway through Lent, and the entrance antiphon to today’s liturgy begins, “Rejoice, Jerusalem, and all who love her.” Laetare is the Latin word for “rejoice.”

Today is meant to be a little more festive than a typical Lenten Sunday, and is there anything more festive than the birth of a child?

So it’s very appropriate that on this celebratory Sunday we get to witness a birth.

We get to witness the birth of a new child of the light in today’s gospel.

The man born blind has been living in darkness from the beginning of his days, just as all of us lived in darkness from the beginning of our days until our baptisms.

And for some of us our baptisms are so long ago, or they took place when we were so young, that we don’t remember what it was like to live in darkness.

So this gospel is good for us to hear today, to recall the graces we have been given by our birth as children of the light.

And it’s also good for us to look at the birth of this new child of the light, because it reminds us of our own catechumens, who, in a few short weeks, will themselves become children of the light.

And so as we look at today’s gospel we see a man who was blind from birth, sitting by the roadside begging.

Then Jesus passes by and notices him there.

Jesus says, “I am the Light of the World,” and he makes clay from dirt and saliva and smears it on the blind man’s eyes.

This is an important detail. It’s mentioned three times.

This is real, this is physical, this is the touch of Christ, the work of God made visible.

Recall how clay was used at the very dawn of creation when God formed us out of the dust of the ground and blew into our nostrils the breath of life, and we became living beings.

This is beautifully expressed in the last stanza of a poem called “The Creation” by James Weldon Johnson.

Up from the bed of the river
God scooped the clay;
And by the bank of the river
He kneeled Him down;
And there the great God Almighty
Who lit the sun and fixed it in the sky,
Who flung the stars to the most far corner of the night,
Who rounded the earth in the middle of His hand;
This Great God,
Like a mammy bending over her baby,
Kneeled down in the dust
Toiling over a lump of clay
Till He shaped it in His own image;
Then into it He blew the breath of life,
And man became a living soul.
Amen. Amen.

Like a mother bending over her baby, God created humanity out of the clay. Throughout salvation history, God has called people together to be a family.

And now, as we return to the gospel, Jesus uses clay again at the dawn of this new creation, when the blind man is about to become a child of the light.

He takes the dust of the ground, spits in it, makes clay, new clay, and puts it on the man’s eyes, because he is about to become a new creation.

And just as God said, “Let there be light,” at the beginning of all things, so Jesus says, “Let there be light,” to the blind man and heralds a new beginning for him.

And we are witnesses to his rebirth.

He goes and washes himself in the Pool of Siloam because he is sent by Christ. He is sent by the one who was himself sent.

God sent Christ to bring creation to its fulfillment, to give new life and light to our clay bodies so we can become children of light.

And that is what we are.

It’s not always easy, though, as the man born blind came to understand. He was grilled by his neighbors, brought before the Pharisees, and expelled from the temple. And yet he maintained the truth of what he had experienced.

He hung on, as we are asked to hang on.

Paul writes to the Ephesians what is good for us to hear: “You were once darkness, but now you are light in the Lord. Live as children of light…Try to learn what is pleasing to the Lord.”

Paul outlines for us what it means to be children of the light.

He understands that just because we are children of the light, it doesn’t mean we always act like it.

After all, do our children always act like we want them to?

Did we always act like our parents wanted us to?

And so Paul is reminding us: “Look at the light and try to learn what is pleasing to the Lord.”

When we are young we want to please our parents so much.

And then we grow up and we want to be independent and on our own, and we confuse being independent with being contrary.

Perhaps that’s part of what Jesus means when he says we need to become like children to enter the Kingdom.

The beautiful thing about pleasing God is that all we do to please God also brings us happiness and fulfillment.

This is what it means to be light in the Lord.

We’re still growing as God’s children. The man in today’s gospel went through a gradual transition into discipleship.

First, he referred to his healer as, “the man called Jesus.”

Then, he said, “He is a prophet.”

Then, he is called one of Jesus’ disciples.

Finally, he comes to believe in Jesus as the Son of Man, and he worships him.

No matter how old we are, no matter how long it has been since our baptism, we are all on a journey of growth as children of the light.

And as we come to the middle of this Lenten journey and begin the walk towards Palm Sunday and the Easter Vigil, we ask ourselves what kind of children have we been? Have we been doing our chores?

Is there any garbage we need to take out? Any dirty laundry that needs washing?

Are we keeping our spiritual rooms clean?

Have we been minding our manners, saying please and thank you in prayer?

These are all things children do to be a part of the family.

We each have our responsibilities.

Paul even has advice for those of us who are still spiritual teenagers:

“Awake, O sleeper, and arise from the dead, and Christ will give you light.”

Today we rejoice, because Easter draws ever closer, and with it the birth of new children of the light.

Podcast: Play in new window | Download

Subscribe: RSS