The very world was born blind. According to what science tells us today, during millions of years there was life on earth, but it was life in a blind state. The eye for seeing did not exist yet, sight itself did not exist. The eye, in its complexity and perfection, is one of the functions formed more slowly.
This situation is reproduced in part in the life of every man. A child is born, though not precisely blind, at least incapable of distinguishing things clearly. Only after weeks he begins to focus. If the child could express what he experiences when he begins to see clearly the face of his mother, of people, of things, of colors -- how many "oh's" of awe would be heard! What a hymn to light and sight.
To see is a miracle, only we don't pay attention to it because we are too accustomed to it and we take it for granted. It is here that God sometimes acts in a sudden and extraordinary way, aiming to take us out of drowsiness and make us alert. That is what he did with the healing of the man blind from birth and of other blind people in the Gospel.
But is this the only reason that Jesus healed the man blind from birth? There is another sense in which we were born blind. There are other eyes -- besides the physical ones -- that should open themselves to the world: the eyes of faith! They allow a glimpse of another world beyond that which we see with the eyes of the body: the world of God, of eternal life, the world of the Gospel, the world that does not end -- not even with the end of the world.
This is what Jesus wanted to remind us of with the healing of the man blind from birth. Before anything else, he sent the young blind man to the pool of Siloam. With this, Jesus wanted to signify that these different eyes, those of faith, begin to open up in baptism, precisely when we receive the gift of faith. That's why in ancient times baptism was also called "illumination," and being baptized meant "having been illuminated."
In our case, it's not about believing generically in God, but believing in Christ. The Evangelist avails of the episode to show us how to arrive to a full and mature faith in the Son of God. The blind man's recovery of his sight happens, in fact, at the same time that he discovers who Jesus is. In the beginning, for the blind man, Jesus is no more than a man. "The man called Jesus made clay …"
Later, he was asked, "What do you have to say about him, since he opened your eyes?" He responded, "He is a prophet." He has taken a step forward; he has understood that Jesus is sent form God, which he speaks and acts in his name.
Finally, finding Jesus again, he exclaims, "I do believe Lord," and he bows before him to worship him, thus openly recognizing him as his Lord and God.
In describing all of this with so much detail, it is as if John the Evangelist very discreetly invites us to ask ourselves the question: "And me? In what point am I on this path? Who is Jesus of Nazareth for me?"
That Jesus is a man, no one denies. That he is a prophet, one sent from God, is also admitted almost universally. Many stay at that point. But it is not enough. A Muslim, if he is coherent with what is found written in the Koran, also recognizes that Jesus is a prophet. But not for that is one considered a Christian.
The leap by which one passes to be a Christian in the true sense is when he proclaims, like the man blind from birth, that Jesus is "Lord" and adores him as God. Christian faith is not primarily to believe in something -- that God exists, that there is something beyond -- but to believe in someone. Jesus in the Gospel does not give us a list of things to believe; he says, "Believe in God; believe also in me" (John 14:1).
For Christians, to believe is to believe in Jesus Christ.
[Translation by Joseph G. Trabbic]
Fr.
Raniero Cantalamessa is a Franciscan
Capuchin Catholic Priest. Born in Ascoli Piceno,
Italy, 22 July 1934, ordained priest in 1958.
Divinity Doctor and Doctor in classical literature.
In 1980 he was appointed by Pope John Paul II
Preacher to the Papal Household in which capacity he
still serves, preaching a weekly sermon in Advent
and Lent.
