THE FOURTH SUNDAY IN LENT
Year A
March 30, 2014
1 Samuel 16:1-13
Ephesians 5:8-14
John 9:1-41
Pastor David Tryggestad
Concordia Evangelical
Lutheran Church
Duluth, Minnesota
How do we see and how
do we know?
During winter break in February, my wife, Lynn, and I stayed
a week with our almost-five-year-old grandson, Simon, while our son and
daughter-in-law had a little get-away. They live in the country outside
Oronoco, north of Rochester.
So when the ice storm hit on Thursday afternoon, a tree fell onto their power
line, cutting off power to the house. Just as it was getting dark outside, it
got dark inside. No lights, no heat, no water, no stove—for 22 hours.
Fortunately, we had a stack of dry wood under a snow-covered tarp between the
garage and the barn, and we kept the fire burning in the fireplace. We found
the emergency flashlights and lit some candles.
Simon was not at all alarmed. He had experienced a power
outage earlier in the winter, and his mom and dad kept reassuring him
throughout the event not to worry. It would be OK. Now Simon wanted me to be
OK.
So Simon said to me when the power went out and we were in
the dark: “It’s OK, Grandpa! We will be alright!”
It’s amazing how much a single candle glowing in the dark
can illuminate.
How do we see and how
do we know?
I was at a concert of the Minnesota Orchestra this past
Friday with my brother-in-law, Scott. Scott has been a season ticket holder for
the Orchestra for many years, and he was telling me how much difference the
so-called “blind audition” process has had on the personnel of the Orchestra
over time, especially with regard to the number of female musicians that have
been hired. Rather than standing on stage for all to see, candidates audition
behind a screen. They are judged not
by their appearance, gender included, but rather on their sound.
How do we see and how
do we know?
In Mark Twain’s short novel, Pudd’nhead Wilson, a black slave switches her infant with the infant of her
master. The son of the slave is very fair, even with blue eyes, as the
slave is in large part white and her baby’s father is also white. The master’s
wife has died after complications with the delivery. Had the baby’s mother
lived, the swap of babies would not be possible, no matter how much they looked
alike; a mother knows her child. The
swap is successful because the father does not know his own son. He knows his son by sight, but he doesn’t truly know
him.
How do we see and how
do we know?
In our First Lesson for today, God assigns Samuel the task
of anointing a new king for Israel.
King Saul has not been faithful in his calling as king, so God has chosen a new
king. God sends Samuel to Jesse, who assembles seven of his sons and presents
them according to birth order. Custom would dictate that the eldest should be
chosen. So when Jesse’s eldest, Eliab, is presented to Samuel, Samuel looks
upon him and thinks, “Surely the Lord’s
anointed is now before the Lord.”
But God says to Samuel, “Do not look on his appearance or on
the height of his stature . . . for the Lord
does not see as mortals see; they look on the outward appearance, but the Lord looks on the heart.” God chooses
David, the youngest, who is in the fields tending sheep. “The Lord looks on the heart.”
How do we see and how
do we know?
Driving home from the Cities yesterday I saw a giant
billboard I had not seen before, somewhere just south of Forest Lake.
It was all black with bright orange lettering: “Who is Jesus?”
I thought about that question with regard to our Gospel for
today. The story is really about Jesus’ identity and the question, How do we see and how do we know?
One of the most telling lines in the story is this: “And
they were divided.” The various characters in the story respond differently to
the man whose eyes are opened and to Jesus.
“This man is not from God, for he does not observe the
Sabbath.” Others said, “How can a man who is a sinner perform such signs?”
And they were divided.
As the story progresses, the Pharisees seem united in their
judgment: “Give glory to God! We know that this man is a sinner.”
How is it that people who presume to judge others also
presume to give glory to God in the process?
The Rev. Fred Phelps died and was buried recently. He and
his followers presumed to judge others as sinners, publicly decrying them in
hurtful, disrespectful and disruptive ways. No doubt he and his followers
presumed to give glory to God in their judgment.
“Give glory to God! We know that this man is a sinner.”
“I do not know whether he is a sinner. One thing I do know,
that though I as blind, now I see.”
The one who was blind sees;
those who see are blind. It seems
that seeing is not the same as discerning. Evidently one can be blind
and yet see—and yet discern—and yet know. Others can see and
yet be blind.
How do we see and how
do we know?
The blind man in our story appeals to me greatly. He speaks
only of what he knows. He does not presume to know more than he knows. And he
is unabashed in his testimony, even in the face of tremendous hostility: “I do
not know whether he is a sinner. One thing I do know, that though I as blind,
now I see.”
I think back on our little grandson, Simon. When the lights
went out, he said to me, “It’s OK, Grandpa! We will be alright!”
He was speaking from personal experience. He doesn’t understand
electricity or water pumps or heating systems. But he knew it would be OK and
that we would be alright.
It’s amazing how much a single candle glowing in the dark
can illuminate.
The Apostle Paul in our Second Lesson invites us: “Once you
were darkness, but now in the Lord you are light. Live as children of the light
. . .”
To “live as children of the light,” we don’t have to know
everything. We don’t have to have all the answers.
“I do not know whether he is a sinner. One thing I do know,
that though I as blind, now I see.”
To “live as children of the light,” all we need to do is
witness to what God has done for us.
“It’s OK, Grandpa! We will be alright!”
It’s amazing how much a single candle glowing in the dark
can illuminate.
Thanks be to God!
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