Reflection on the 4th Sunday Lent Year A, 2006

 

My dear brothers and sisters,

Today is the Sunday of Light, and we are blessed with a bright day. In the middle of this Lenten season, we are once again invited to reflect on the light that the Lord has brought into this world.

In the first reading, we see how God asks Samuel to select a king from the sons of Jesse. Jesse presents all his sons—strong, handsome, and impressive. Samuel thinks that Eliab, the eldest, must surely be the chosen one. But God tells him, “No.” God reminds Samuel that He does not look at outward appearance, but at the heart.

Then God tells Samuel that there is still one more son. David is brought in—the youngest, a shepherd, someone not considered very important. He was out in the field, tending the sheep. Yet it is David whom God chooses and anoints as king.

This teaches us a powerful lesson: God looks at the heart, not at external appearance.

This becomes an examination of conscience for us. When we are in public, we try to behave well. We present ourselves as good and proper. But what about our personal life? When we are alone, when no one is watching—how do we act? How do we respond to God? What is our relationship with Him?

God sees our hearts. He often chooses not the greatest in the eyes of the world, but the least, the unexpected.

Sometimes we may feel, “I am not the best. I am not the most talented. I am not the top person.” But God still calls us. What matters is not our greatness, but our response.

This is what we call vocation. Just as David was anointed king, each one of us is called by God. God looks at the heart of each person and calls them in a unique way.

The question for us today is: Am I responding to God’s call?

Each of us has a vocation—whether to the priesthood, religious life, married life, or single life. Whatever our vocation may be, we are called to live it faithfully and generously, according to God’s will.

In the Gospel, we see how Jesus heals the man born blind.

I remember a man who lived near my house when I was a child. He was blind from birth. As a child, I used to ask my mother, “Why was he born blind?” I did not understand.

He was a poor man, but every morning he would take his flute and walk along the road, playing music. Though he could not see, he brought joy to others. As he passed by, families would call him in and offer him food. He would continue his journey, playing music, making people happy.

We loved listening to him. My mother would invite him in, and we would sit beside him and enjoy his songs. He lived his life beautifully, even in his blindness.

As a child, I thought perhaps God was punishing him. But today’s Gospel gives us the answer: God does not punish in that way.

In the Gospel, the disciples ask Jesus, “Who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?” Jesus answers, “Neither.” This man’s condition becomes an opportunity for God’s glory to be revealed.

Jesus heals him—but notice how He does it. He makes mud, applies it to the man’s eyes, and tells him to go and wash in the Pool of Siloam.

Why mud?

In the Old Testament, God created man from the dust of the earth. Here, Jesus uses mud again—symbolizing a new creation. He is not only healing the man; He is recreating him, giving him new sight—not just physical sight, but spiritual sight.

This is also an invitation for us.

Sometimes, being in the “mud” of our lives—our struggles, our weaknesses—is uncomfortable. But if we allow God to work in us, He can transform us. He can recreate us.

We are now halfway through the season of Lent. This is a time to ask ourselves:
Do I have true conversion—true metanoia, a real change of heart?
Am I repenting for my sins?
Do I have a deep desire to see God in my life?

These are the questions we must reflect upon at this moment.

As we take part in this Holy Eucharist today, let us recognize that we are all, in some way, blind—not physically, perhaps, but spiritually.

When we humble ourselves, bow our heads, and ask for God’s mercy, He will pour out His grace upon us. He will heal us and open our eyes so that we may truly see Him.

Let us remember the woman at the well, who, after encountering the Lord, went back with great joy to share her experience. In the same way, when we truly encounter God, His light and joy will fill our hearts.

For this grace, let us pray during this Liturgy.

Amen.