Children of Light (4th Sunday Lent A)

I see trees of green and red roses too; I see them bloom for me and for you;
And I think to myself, “What a wonderful world!”

I see skies of blue and clouds of white; Bright blessed days, dark sacred nights;
And I think to myself, “What a wonderful world!”

Louis Armstrong’s distinctive gravelly voice caught my attention and led me, for the first time, into an appreciation of this beautiful song. Much later, with Michael Buble’s contemporary rendition, I fell in love again with this song a second time. And again, a third time, when I heard a local artist in Zamboanga City, sang this with his dark shades on in a restobar. What’s amazing in his performance was not that he had a superior quality of voice compared to the two great singers who popularized the song. No. What’s incredible was the fact that he was a blind man. When he joined us at table after his performance, he allowed me to witness a great irony in life. Here was a blind man who, I presumed to be living in the dark, but surprisingly, had a way of seeing and celebrating the beauty and wonders of life; he could honestly proclaim at the top of his lungs, "What a wonderful world!" Whereas I had been with many people with perfect eyesight but, alas, stuck in the unfortunate dark side of life, grumbling, unable to celebrate with joy the gift of light and life.

(grabbed from http://junialeigh.wordpress.com)

A similar irony is depicted by today’s gospel reading (Jn 9:1-41). A blind man since birth is healed by Jesus. Not only is he enabled to see, he also grows in his faith. He begins to know Jesus Christ and accepts him as the Son of Man. In this gospel incident, the blind, who has been in darkness and believed to be under the curse of sin, embraces the light of Christ and is freed by Christ’s saving grace and becomes a believer. Ironically, the Pharisees who are known for their strict observance of the Law of Moses and who pride in their holiness turn out to be the ones suffering from serious form of blindness as they refuse to see God’s saving grace at work in Jesus. They refuse to embrace the light of Christ. They persist in condemning the blind man to his state of sinfulness. They are incapable of celebrating the joy of liberation from sin and darkness. They refuse to believe in Jesus as the savior.

The healing of the blind man proclaims that Jesus is the light of the world.  He frees those who accept his grace from the darkness of sin. The blind man’s washing in the Pool of Siloam hints at the cleansing ritual of baptism where we embrace our faith in Jesus and accepts him as our savior. Like the blind man, we used to be people of darkness but through the light of Christ received in baptism we become children of the light.

St. Paul, in the second reading (Eph 5:8-14), admonishes the Christian community in Ephesus to live as children of light: “Brothers and sisters, you were once darkness, but, now, you are light, in the Lord. Behave as children of light.” The Ephesians lived once without faith but through baptism have been enlightened. They must now live according to their new life in the light. The admonition to behave as children of light is an invitation towards two things: To do only what is good and to expose the works of darkness as here explained by St. Paul: “You, yourselves, search out what pleases the Lord, and take no part in works of darkness, that are of no benefit; expose them instead.”

Like the blind man and the early Christian community in Ephesus, we too have become children of the light in Christ. The season of Lent is our invitation to behave as children of the light. This may imply a lot of things but allow me to suggest three things in the light of our readings:

Exposing what remains in the dark. Behaving as children of light means exposing whatever is done in the dark as St. Paul reminds us. This season, we can expose to the light of Christ the remaining darkness in our lives. We can allow the light of the Lord to shine in us as it dispels the darkness of our sins. In our examination of conscience let us invite Jesus to enlighten us and lead us towards sincere act of contrition. In the Sacrament of Penance and reconciliation, we can bravely expose our sins by confession and allow God’s mercy to embrace us.

Celebrating the triumph of grace. Behaving as children of light also invites us to celebrate with joy the truth of God’s saving grace working in our lives. Rather than grumbling over the imperfections within us and around us, let us, with the eyes of faith, see the triumph of the light of God’s grace over the darkness of sin. Let us think to ourselves, “What a wonderful world!” for this world is truly blessed by God. Let us acknowledge God’s blessings. Let us be grateful for our blessings and be joyful when others are blessed too by God’s grace.

Becoming the light of the world. Finally, behaving as children of light is becoming the light of Christ to others by our good works. Our goodness is the light of Christ shining in us. St. Paul reminds us that “the fruits of light are kindness, justice and truth, in every form.” We can be a light to others, especially to those suffering from different forms of misery, when we reach out to them with kindness, when we commit ourselves for the cause of justice, when we relate to others with sincerity and work with honesty.

As we continue with our Lenten journey towards Easter, we strengthen our conviction that we are no longer a people of darkness. We have Jesus who has given us his light and liberated us from our disoriented groping in the dark alleys of sin. Let us behave, then, as children of light.

Man of Faith (5th Sunday Ordinary C)

Many have stood by their I-did-it-my-way philosophy in life. They have tried to appear to have lived “a life that’s full” solely relying on their own human capacity.  At the heart of their conviction is that man is self-sufficient; he is intelligent and free; he is capable of doing what he wants in life and giving meaning to it; he may struggle but he does not need help; asking for it, especially when kneeling, is weakness. With pride, he has to face the final curtain of life as he intones:

For what is a man, what has he got? If not himself, then he has naught;
To say the things he truly feels and not the words of one who kneels;
The record shows I took the blows and did it my way! (Sounds familiar, huh!)

Quite opposite to this self-made man’s confidence or perhaps, more appropriately, conceit, is the total wretchedness with which other people view life and human existence. There are those who see only the brokenness of man and live as such—miserable people. They see only human frailty, imperfections, sinfulness, defeat, and absurdity of life. So they make life miserable—thanks to alcohol and drugs, to their insecurities and self-pity, their anger and violence—not only for themselves but for people who care for them.

But still another way of approaching life is the way of the man of faith.  He shares some likeness with the first two in that he believes in his worth and dignity, on the one hand, and he acknowledges his imperfections and inadequacies on the other hand.  He is different from them though in that he opens his heart to the grace of God.  In his moments of inadequacies, he has the courage to bend his knees because he has no problem accepting he is weak. But precisely in this humility before God, he finds his strength to overcome not only his imperfections but even the most crushing of trials that the human spirit is made to endure.

All three readings of today’s liturgy herald the way of the man of faith by featuring three models: Isaiah, Paul, and Peter. 

In the first reading (Is 6:1-2a, 3-8), we hear of Isaiah’s calling. Isaiah acknowledges his unworthiness as he says, “Woe is me. I am doomed! For I am a man of unclean lips, living among a people of unclean lips…” (v.5). Isaiah’s imperfection and sinfulness is identified with his lips since his is to be a preaching ministry. Yet the Lord purified his mouth; his wickedness is removed. So that, as the Lord asks who to send, Isaiah responded firmly, “Here I am, send me!”

Paul, in the second reading (1 Cor 15:1-11), testifies to the same enabling grace of God in his ministry.  He used to persecute the church of God due to his unenlightened religious convictions, yet he turned out to become the zealous preacher of the Kerygma, the good news of the saving death and resurrection of Christ. Here, Paul testifies that this dramatic change in his life is only made possible by the grace of God: “For I am the least of the apostles, not fit to be called an apostle… But by the grace of God I am what I am, and his grace to me has not been ineffective” (v. 9-10).

Finally, Peter. In the gospel reading (Lk 5:1-11), Peter is humbled by the fact that he and his fellow fishermen had worked hard all night and had not caught anything; yet at Jesus’ command, Peter, probably going against the wisdom of his years of fishing experience, lowered their nets just the same. And to the astonishment of all, they caught so great a number of fish that their nets were tearing and their boats were in danger of sinking (v.  5-7)!

Peter, the expert fisherman, fell at the knees of Jesus as he exclaimed: “Depart from me, Lord, for I am a sinful man” (v. 8). This is Peter’s realization of his inadequacy in front of the Lord. How consoling for us to be reminded of this humbling experience of the first pope of the Church of Christ.  And how reassuring that the Lord dispels every fear in our otherwise feeble commitment to take on his task as He says to Peter: “Fear not; from now on you will be catching men” (v. 10).

Isaiah, Paul, and Peter all illustrated for us the way of the man of faith and how we surely live life to the full when we allow the grace of God to work in us.

The man of faith does not have to prove to the world his greatness and strength. After having done everything that his life is meant to accomplish, he does not have to proclaim at the top of his lungs that he did it his way. Humility, which gives him deep serenity, is his path, not pride. He knows that conceit brings him false glory and honor. Of course, he believes in his giftedness—his intellect, freedom, abilities—and sees them as such, as gifts. Hence, the man of faith glorifies not himself but the Giver of every gift in his life.

Moreover, the man of faith acknowledges quite truthfully his inadequacies. He sees his brokenness, feels his unworthiness. But he needs not fear his weaknesses for they are the very occasion of God’s grace to work in his life. It is in the instance of his humble acceptance of weakness that God’s power makes him strong; God’s power shines mightily unhampered by the person’s foolish pride. The man of faith believes that despite his glaring imperfections, he is not destined to a miserable life; for he is called to a beautiful life, a meaningful life, a life with purpose and mission.

Clearly our invitation is to stop wasting our time exploring different ways of living our lives. No use living in either conceit or defeat. God invites us to live life in the way that brings out the best in us. God calls us to trudge the path of the man of faith.