Introduction
On the 4th Sunday of Lent in Year A, the Church continues its ancient baptismal catechesis with the Gospel of the man born blind. Last Sunday, Jesus revealed himself as the giver of living water; today, he is proclaimed as the Light of the World. Through these readings, the Church accompanies the catechumens toward the illumination of Baptism — and invites the already baptized to renew the grace by which they were brought out of darkness into Christ’s marvelous light.
Today’s readings reveal the God who sees differently than we do, who looks into the heart, and who restores sight to those who long to see. Christ comes not only to heal physical blindness, but to open the eyes of faith, that we may walk as children of the light.
1st Reading – 1 Samuel 16:1b, 6-7, 10-13a
The LORD said to Samuel:
“Fill your horn with oil, and be on your way.
I am sending you to Jesse of Bethlehem,
for I have chosen my king from among his sons.”
As Jesse and his sons came to the sacrifice,
Samuel looked at Eliab and thought,
“Surely the LORD’s anointed is here before him.”
But the LORD said to Samuel:
“Do not judge from his appearance or from his lofty stature,
because I have rejected him.
Not as man sees does God see,
because man sees the appearance
but the LORD looks into the heart.”
In the same way Jesse presented seven sons before Samuel,
but Samuel said to Jesse,
“The LORD has not chosen any one of these.”
Then Samuel asked Jesse,
“Are these all the sons you have?”
Jesse replied, “There is still the youngest, who is tending the sheep.”
Samuel said to Jesse,
“Send for him;
we will not begin the sacrificial banquet until he arrives here.”
Jesse sent and had the young man brought to them.
He was ruddy, a youth handsome to behold
and making a splendid appearance.
The LORD said, “There — anoint him, for this is the one!”
Then Samuel, with the horn of oil in hand,
anointed David in the presence of his brothers;
and from that day on, the spirit of the LORD rushed upon David.
The Book of 1 Samuel recounts Israel’s transition from the time of the judges to the rise of the monarchy. It tells the story of God’s surprising choices: calling Samuel as a child, rejecting Saul as king, and raising up David, the youngest and least expected of his brothers, to lead his people. Throughout the book, God reveals that true authority and true vision come not from human strength or appearance, but from fidelity to the Lord.
Today’s reading presents the anointing of David, where God teaches Samuel that “the Lord looks into the heart.” This moment prepares us for the gospel reading, showing that only God grants real sight and that he often chooses the one whom others overlook.
The LORD said to Samuel: “Fill your horn with oil, and be on your way. I am sending you to Jesse of Bethlehem, for I have chosen my king from among his sons.”
The anointing of David marks a decisive turning point in Israel’s history. God himself directs the search, showing that Israel’s monarchy is not a human invention but part of God’s unfolding plan of salvation. The prophet does not choose according to his own judgment; he simply carries out God’s command.
In the Old Testament, a qeren (horn) filled with oil is a standard vessel used by prophets for ritual anointing. “Fill your horn with oil” is effectively a call to prepare for a sacred anointing.
As they came, he looked at Eliab and thought, “Surely the LORD’S anointed is here before him.” But the LORD said to Samuel: “Do not judge from his appearance or from his lofty stature, because I have rejected him. Not as man sees does God see, because man sees the appearance but the LORD looks into the heart.”
Samuel is corrected in his instinct to judge by outward qualities. God reveals a fundamental truth: divine election is based not on human criteria but on the interior disposition known only to God.
In the same way Jesse presented seven sons before Samuel, but Samuel said to Jesse, “The LORD has not chosen any one of these.”
As God’s prophet, Samuel discerns God’s will and speaks with God’s authority.
The repeated rejection of Jesse’s sons underscores that God’s choice is neither obvious nor predictable.
Then Samuel asked Jesse, “Are these all the sons you have?” Jesse replied, “There is still the youngest, who is tending the sheep.”
David is not presented because his father assumes he is insignificant. His absence highlights how unlikely a candidate he is by human standards.
His election is therefore entirely an act of divine grace, not human merit.
Samuel said to Jesse, “Send for him; we will not begin the sacrificial banquet until he arrives here.” Jesse sent and had the young man brought to them.
David wasn’t even invited to the feast, further underscoring his marginal position. He was probably considered too young or unimportant to be included.
He was ruddy, a youth handsome to behold and making a splendid appearance.
The vivid description of David’s appearance is not meant to contradict God’s earlier instruction. Rather, it signals vitality and God‑given favor.
The LORD said, “There — anoint him, for this is he!”
Despite his lowly status, David is the one whose heart God has seen and approved. The young shepherd will be God’s king.
Once again, God has chosen the weak things of the world to confound the strong.
Then Samuel, with the horn of oil in hand, anointed him in the midst of his brothers;
The anointing is a solemn act that publicly confirms God’s choice. David becomes a messiah — “anointed one” — a royal designation that foreshadows the future Messiah who will arise from his line.
A messiah can refer to any person anointed for a sacred task. Over time, Jewish hope focused on the promised anointed king from David’s line, giving rise to the expectation of The Messiah. When the Hebrew Scriptures were translated into Greek, messiah became christos, meaning “anointed,” which is the origin of the title “Christ.” In the New Testament, “Jesus Christ” therefore means “Jesus, the Messiah,” the definitive Anointed One who fulfills and surpasses all earlier anointings.
and from that day on, the spirit of the LORD rushed upon David.
In Israel’s tradition, the Spirit empowers individuals for God’s purposes: judges (Judges 3:10), prophets (Isaiah 61:1), and now a king. The Spirit’s coming marks David as God’s instrument and equips him for the mission ahead.
During Lent, as catechumens prepare for Baptism and the faithful examine their hearts, this reading reminds us that we must try to see, not as human beings see, but as God sees.
It also reminds us that in Baptism we, too, are anointed and given a share in Christ’s mission, called to live by the Spirit who has been poured into our hearts.
2nd Reading – Ephesians 5:8-14
Brothers and sisters:
You were once darkness,
but now you are light in the Lord.
Live as children of light,
for light produces every kind of goodness
and righteousness and truth.
Try to learn what is pleasing to the Lord.
Take no part in the fruitless works of darkness;
rather expose them, for it is shameful even to mention
the things done by them in secret;
but everything exposed by the light becomes visible,
for everything that becomes visible is light.
Therefore, it says:
“Awake, O sleeper,
and arise from the dead,
and Christ will give you light.”
In today’s second reading, Saint Paul applies the theme of divine sight to the Christian life.
Brothers and sisters: You were once darkness, but now you are light in the Lord.
The movement from darkness to light is the central metaphor describing the radical transformation wrought by grace.
Notice that Paul does not say they were merely in darkness; they were darkness. Sin is not presented as an external environment but as a condition of alienation from God.
Now, however, incorporated into Christ, they are “light in the Lord.” This light is not their own achievement but a participation in the light of Christ.
Live as children of light, for light produces every kind of goodness and righteousness and truth.
Paul describes how life in Christ transforms a person from within using three distinct terms. Agathōsynē is a goodness that actively pours itself out in generosity; dikaiosynē speaks of righteousness or justice, the right ordering of one’s life before God and neighbor; and alētheia signifies truth lived with integrity, the unveiling of what is real in God’s sight.
Together, these virtues show that to become “light in the Lord” is not merely to think differently but to live in a way that radiates goodness, justice, and truth.
Try to learn what is pleasing to the Lord.
Discipleship requires discernment — a continual seeking of God’s will. Growth in holiness involves both grace and cooperation: learning, testing, and choosing what pleases the Lord.
Take no part in the fruitless works of darkness; rather expose them, for it is shameful even to mention the things done by them in secret; but everything exposed by the light becomes visible, for everything that becomes visible is light.
Believers must renounce sin and its patterns. Because Christians are light in the Lord, their integrity, charity, and transparency reveal by contrast what is disordered. The light of authentic holiness unmasks sin simply by shining.
The striking phrase “everything exposed by the light becomes visible, for everything that becomes visible is light” suggests that anything brought into Christ’s radiance can be transformed. The goal is not humiliation but conversion.
“He has said, ‘you are light’. Light exposes what takes place in darkness. Insofar as you are light your goodness shines forth. The wicked are not able to hide. Their actions are illuminated as though a lamp were at hand.” [Saint John Chrysostom (A.D. 392-397), Homilies on the Epistle to the Ephesians, 18,5,11-13]
Therefore, it says: “Awake, O sleeper, and arise from the dead, and Christ will give you light.”
This hymn-like exhortation is likely a fragment of early baptismal liturgy (see also Ephesians 2:5; Isaiah 60:1-3). The imagery — sleep to wakefulness, death to life, darkness to illumination — reflects the Church’s understanding of Baptism as participation in Christ’s death and Resurrection. The baptized are not merely improved; they are made new.
The passage, therefore, calls believers to live consistently with what they have become. Having been enlightened by Christ, we are summoned to walk in his light, to cooperate with grace in daily conversion, and to reflect his radiance in the world. Baptism is both gift and mission: we are chosen, illumined, and sent so that others, too, may come into the light.
Gospel – John 9:1-41
As Jesus passed by he saw a man blind from birth.
His disciples asked him,
“Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents,
that he was born blind?”
Jesus answered,
“Neither he nor his parents sinned;
it is so that the works of God might be made visible through him.
We have to do the works of the one who sent me while it is day.
Night is coming when no one can work.
While I am in the world, I am the light of the world.”
When he had said this, he spat on the ground
and made clay with the saliva,
and smeared the clay on his eyes,
and said to him,
“Go wash in the Pool of Siloam” (which means Sent).
So he went and washed, and came back able to see.
His neighbors and those who had seen him earlier as a beggar said,
“Isn’t this the one who used to sit and beg?”
Some said, “It is,” but others said, “No, he just looks like him.”
He said, “I am.”
So they said to him, “How were your eyes opened?”
He replied,
“The man called Jesus made clay and anointed my eyes
and told me, ‘Go to Siloam and wash.’
So I went there and washed and was able to see.”
And they said to him, “Where is he?”
He said, “I don’t know.”
They brought the one who was once blind to the Pharisees.
Now Jesus had made clay and opened his eyes on a sabbath.
So then the Pharisees also asked him how he was able to see.
He said to them,
“He put clay on my eyes, and I washed, and now I can see.”
So some of the Pharisees said,
“This man is not from God, because he does not keep the sabbath.”
But others said,
“How can a sinful man do such signs?”
And there was a division among them.
So they said to the blind man again,
“What do you have to say about him,
since he opened your eyes?”
He said, “He is a prophet.”
Now the Jews did not believe
that he had been blind and gained his sight
until they summoned the parents of the one who had gained his sight.
They asked them,
“Is this your son, who you say was born blind?
How does he now see?”
His parents answered and said,
“We know that this is our son and that he was born blind.
We do not know how he sees now,
nor do we know who opened his eyes.
Ask him, he is of age; he can speak for himself.”
His parents said this because they were afraid
of the Jews, for the Jews had already agreed
that if anyone acknowledged him as the Christ,
he would be expelled from the synagogue.
For this reason his parents said,
“He is of age; question him.”
So a second time they called the man who had been blind
and said to him, “Give God the praise!
We know that this man is a sinner.”
He replied, “If he is a sinner, I do not know.
One thing I do know is that I was blind and now I see.”
So they said to him, “What did he do to you?
How did he open your eyes?”
He answered them,
“I told you already and you did not listen.
Why do you want to hear it again?
Do you want to become his disciples, too?”
They ridiculed him and said,
“You are that man’s disciple;
we are disciples of Moses!
We know that God spoke to Moses,
but we do not know where this one is from.”
The man answered and said to them,
“This is what is so amazing,
that you do not know where he is from, yet he opened my eyes.
We know that God does not listen to sinners,
but if one is devout and does his will, he listens to him.
It is unheard of that anyone ever opened the eyes of a person born blind.
If this man were not from God,
he would not be able to do anything.”
They answered and said to him,
“You were born totally in sin, and are you trying to teach us?”
Then they threw him out.
When Jesus heard that they had thrown him out,
he found him and said, “Do you believe in the Son of Man?”
He answered and said, “Who is he, sir, that I may believe in him?”
Jesus said to him,
“You have seen him, the one speaking with you is he.”
He said, “I do believe, Lord,” and he worshiped him.
Then Jesus said,
“I came into this world for judgment,
so that those who do not see might see,
and those who do see might become blind.”
Some of the Pharisees who were with him heard this
and said to him, “Surely we are not also blind, are we?”
Jesus said to them,
“If you were blind, you would have no sin;
but now you are saying, ‘We see,’ so your sin remains.”
In today’s gospel reading, Jesus heals a man born blind, but as we will see, the story is really about spiritual perception.
As Jesus passed by he saw a man blind from birth. His disciples asked him, “Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?”
Many Jews associated suffering with personal sin, sometimes extending consequences across generations (Exodus 20:5; Deuteronomy 5:9). The disciples assume a direct cause-and-effect relationship between sin and suffering. Jesus will correct this reductionist view without denying the reality of sin’s presence in a fallen world.
Jesus answered, “Neither he nor his parents sinned; it is so that the works of God might be made visible through him.
Jesus does not deny original sin or the reality of suffering’s connection to the Fall, but he rejects the idea that this particular blindness is punishment for personal guilt. In God’s providence, this suffering will become the occasion for divine revelation.
God permits certain evils in order to bring about a greater good.
We have to do the works of the one who sent me while it is day. Night is coming when no one can work.
The imagery of day and night underscores urgency. The “day” signifies the time of Jesus’ earthly ministry; the “night” anticipates his Passion.
The struggle between darkness and light, between blindness and sight, is a thread that runs throughout this reading.
While I am in the world, I am the light of the world.”
This echoes John 8:12 and belongs to John’s “I AM” theology, revealing Jesus’ divine identity.
Like the pillar of fire that guided the Israelites through the desert by night in Exodus, Jesus guides us through spiritual darkness.
He is not merely a teacher of light; he is its source.
When he had said this, he spat on the ground and made clay with the saliva, and smeared the clay on his eyes,
Spittle was sometimes regarded as having medicinal properties, but here the action is symbolic. By making clay, Jesus echoes Genesis 2:7, where God forms Adam from the dust; the healing that follows signals an act of new creation.
John then adds a deliberate detail: the Greek says that Jesus “anointed” (epechrisen) the clay upon the man’s eyes. He could have chosen an ordinary verb for “smear” or “apply,” yet he uses the root of chriō, —the verb associated with consecration and with the title Christos, “the Anointed One.”
The Messiah heals by performing an act of anointing, underscoring both his identity and the transformative, consecrating nature of the miracle.
and said to him, “Go wash in the Pool of Siloam” (which means Sent).
The Pool of Siloam, at the southern extremity of Jerusalem, supplied water for the libation rite during the Feast of Tabernacles.
John’s decision to translate Siloam is almost certainly intentional. He rarely explains place‑names, and when he does, the meaning serves the theology of the narrative. In this case, ‘Sent’ subtly points to Jesus himself, the One sent by the Father — an expression John uses dozens of times throughout the Gospel to reveal not merely Christ’s mission, but his divine origin and eternal relation to the Father (e.g., 4:34; 6:38; 17:3).
The washing evokes baptism: illumination, cleansing, and mission. Like Naaman in 2 Kings 5, the man must obey in faith.
The physical journey to Siloam becomes a sign of the spiritual mission that follows new life in Christ.
So he went and washed, and came back able to see.
For John, the sign is more than restored vision. One who never possessed sight now receives light — physically and spiritually.
His neighbors and those who had seen him earlier as a beggar said, “Isn’t this the one who used to sit and beg?” Some said, “It is,” but others said, “No, he just looks like him.”
The neighbors struggle to recognize him; the transformation is so dramatic that some insist it cannot be the same man.
He said, “I am.” So they said to him, “How were your eyes opened?” He replied, “The man called Jesus made clay and anointed my eyes and told me, ‘Go to Siloam and wash.’ So I went there and washed and was able to see.”
The man simply reports the events that occurred. His understanding is genuine but still partial. At this stage, he knows only “the man called Jesus.”
This is how faith often begins — with the honest testimony of what God has done, even before full comprehension dawns.
And they said to him, “Where is he?” He said, “I don’t know.” They brought the one who was once blind to the Pharisees. Now Jesus had made clay and opened his eyes on a sabbath.
The neighbors are unsettled. A healing performed through making clay on the Sabbath raises questions they are not equipped to answer. So they bring the man to the Pharisees, the acknowledged interpreters of proper observance, seeking clarification.
So then the Pharisees also asked him how he was able to see. He said to them, “He put clay on my eyes, and I washed, and now I can see.” So some of the Pharisees said, “This man is not from God, because he does not keep the sabbath.” But others said, “How can a sinful man do such signs?” And there was a division among them.
The Pharisees are divided over their opinion of the righteousness of one who would heal on the sabbath. Some judge by a strict interpretation of the law; others are divided, recognizing that the miracle suggests divine authority.
So they said to the blind man again, “What do you have to say about him, since he opened your eyes?” He said, “He is a prophet.”
Notice the progression of the man’s faith. He moves from calling Jesus “the man called Jesus” to recognizing him as a prophet — one who speaks and acts for God.
Now the Jews did not believe that he had been blind and gained his sight until they summoned the parents of the one who had gained his sight. They asked them, “Is this your son, who you say was born blind? How does he now see?” His parents answered and said, “We know that this is our son and that he was born blind. We do not know how he sees now, nor do we know who opened his eyes. Ask him, he is of age; he can speak for himself.” His parents said this because they were afraid of the Jews, for the Jews had already agreed that if anyone acknowledged him as the Messiah, he would be expelled from the synagogue. For this reason his parents said, “He is of age; question him.”
His parents confirm his blindness but avoid further comment out of fear of expulsion from the synagogue. By the time John writes, exclusion of Jewish Christians had become a painful reality. Confessing Christ carried serious social and religious consequences. The Gospel reflects that lived experience.
So a second time they called the man who had been blind and said to him, “Give God the praise! We know that this man is a sinner.”
This solemn formula (Joshua 7:19) pressures the man to renounce Jesus.
By retaining their legalistic understanding of Sabbath observance, the Pharisees choose to remain blind to Jesus’ identity.
He replied, “If he is a sinner, I do not know. One thing I do know is that I was blind and now I see.”
The man refuses to debate and clings to lived truth. Personal encounter becomes unassailable testimony.
So they said to him, “What did he do to you? How did he open your eyes?” He answered them, “I told you already and you did not listen. Why do you want to hear it again? Do you want to become his disciples, too?”
This repeated questioning is not a search for truth but an attempt to find a flaw in his account.
The man recognizes their hostility and refuses to play along. His pointed reply (“Do you want to become his disciples too?”) is both ironic and courageous. It exposes their motives and highlights the very thing they fear: Jesus is already gathering followers, and this man’s testimony only strengthens that reality.
They ridiculed him and said, “You are that man’s disciple; we are disciples of Moses! We know that God spoke to Moses, but we do not know where this one is from.”
This statement reveals the deeper issue. The Pharisees oppose Moses to Jesus, failing to see that Moses points to him (John 1:17; 5:46).
The man answered and said to them, “This is what is so amazing, that you do not know where he is from, yet he opened my eyes. We know that God does not listen to sinners, but if one is devout and does his will, he listens to him. It is unheard of that anyone ever opened the eyes of a person born blind. If this man were not from God, he would not be able to do anything.”
The man becomes quite bold in his answers. Unlike his parents, he proclaims that his cure is evidence that Jesus is from God, who does not authenticate sinners with such unprecedented signs.
His faith is maturing toward clarity.
They answered and said to him, “You were born totally in sin, and are you trying to teach us?” Then they threw him out.
The Pharisees echo the earlier assumption that suffering equals guilt. They expel him.
In rejecting this man’s honest and truthful testimony, the Pharisees again choose to remain blind.
When Jesus heard that they had thrown him out, he found him and said, “Do you believe in the Son of Man?”
Having lost his place in the synagogue, Jesus invites the man into deeper communion.
“Son of Man” evokes Daniel 7:13, the heavenly figure entrusted with divine authority and judgment.
He answered and said, “Who is he, sir, that I may believe in him?” Jesus said to him, “You have seen him and the one speaking with you is he.”
As with the Samaritan woman in last week’s gospel reading, Jesus discloses his identity personally.
He said, “I do believe, Lord,” and he worshiped him.
The final stage of the man’s conversion is this profession of faith; he now recognizes Jesus’ true identity and addresses him as Lord. He was brought from physical blindness to sight, and he also moves from spiritual blindness (darkness) to spiritual insight (light).
Then Jesus said, “I came into this world for judgment, so that those who do not see might see, and those who do see might become blind.”
Jesus’ coming forces a decision. The humble receive sight; the self-satisfied become blind. Judgment here is not arbitrary condemnation but the unveiling of hearts in response to the Light.
Some of the Pharisees who were with him heard this and said to him, “Surely we are not also blind, are we?” Jesus said to them, “If you were blind, you would have no sin; but now you are saying, ‘We see,’ so your sin remains.”
This final exchange exposes the heart of the controversy. The Pharisees take offense at his implication that some remain blind and challenge him: “Surely we are not also blind?” Their question is defensive, not inquisitive; they assume that their knowledge of the Law guarantees spiritual clarity.
Jesus’ reply overturns that assumption. If they were truly “blind” — i.e., unaware of their need — they would not be held accountable. But because they insist, “We see,” claiming insight while rejecting the One who brings true light, their guilt remains.
The issue is not lack of information but refusal to receive revelation. In John’s theology, sin persists not because people cannot see, but because they will not admit that they cannot see.
The gospel invites us to be like the man born blind, who grows in his spiritual insight, rather than to be like the Pharisees, who refuse to grow. Will we accept the invitation?
Connections and Themes
As God sees. Humans see and judge by appearances, but God looks into the heart and there finds the real person. In our first reading, Samuel assumes he knows what a king looks like. Height, bearing, strength — the visible markers of greatness. Yet God interrupts his certainty: “Not as man sees does God see.” As the Scriptures tell us so often, God’s ways are not our ways. God turns things upside down; God chooses the weak things of the world to confound the strong.
In our gospel reading the same drama unfolds centuries later with sharper irony. A man born blind comes gradually to see — not only with restored eyes, but with awakened faith. Meanwhile, the Pharisees, confident in their clarity, reveal their blindness precisely by insisting they see. The tragedy is not that they lack information; it is that they refuse illumination.
In our second reading, Saint Paul provides the interpretive lens: to be in Christ is to live in the light. True sight is not mere perception but participation — a life conformed to the One who is Light.
Lent, then, is a school of vision. Do we perceive life according to the standards of a materialistic, image-obsessed, pleasure-seeking society? Or do we look into the heart, as God does?
From darkness to light. In our first reading, David is summoned from the fields — from obscurity, from shepherding, from the unnoticed margins. He does not step forward as a candidate; he is called. With the anointing comes the Spirit, and with the Spirit, a new identity. Hiddenness gives way to vocation.
In the gospel reading, a beggar who has known nothing but darkness is chosen for revelation: “that the works of God might be made visible through him.” His healing is not merely medical; it is vocational. He becomes a witness to Christ, even under persecution.
Saint Paul proclaims this same reality in every Christian life: “You were once darkness, but now you are light in the Lord.” Not merely enlightened — light. The transformation is not cosmetic but ontological. What was once hidden is brought into radiance; what was once dormant is awakened.
Lent is not self-improvement, it is consenting to a transformation: a movement initiated by God, from obscurity to calling, from blindness to faith, from darkness into light.
The Second Scrutiny. The Fourth Sunday of Lent marks the second of the Church’s ancient scrutinies, when those preparing for Baptism are prayed over and strengthened against the blindness of sin.
Placed within the larger Lenten arc — living water, light of the world, and resurrection and life — today’s gospel reading traces the gradual awakening of faith: from “the man called Jesus,” to “a prophet,” to “Lord, I believe.” Jesus is the one who gives sight to blind eyes, who gives spiritual insight to those who are open to receive it.
In light of the extraordinary nature and miraculous power of Jesus, the account of his passion takes on a very different character. Jesus could not possibly be the powerless victim of treachery or circumstances. Instead, his suffering and death could have happened only because he allowed them to happen. This is precisely the message we find in the passion narrated on Palm Sunday.
Sunday Readings 