Lent 4 – John 9:1-41
Sermon Preached by Reverend Tracey Gracey on Sunday, 15 March 2026
John 9:1-41
If a doctor were asked to make a diagnosis of the types of blindness present in today’s Gospel reading, I suspect they would discover that there is not just one form of blindness in this story.
The first, and perhaps the easiest to identify, is the man who was born blind.
This is what we would call congenital blindness.
Being born blind is rare. Even today only a small percentage of people who experience blindness have never seen light or colour or faces.
For the man in today’s Gospel, seeing was something he had never experienced.
He had lived his whole life in darkness.
So when Jesus restores his sight, it is truly a miracle.
But this man’s physical blindness is not the central focus of the story.
As the story unfolds, we begin to see that the real blindness in this Gospel belongs to others.
And that leads us to the second kind of blindness.
This could be called convenient blindness.
It is much harder to diagnose because the people experiencing it appear to see perfectly well.
They can observe the world around them.
They can see what is happening.
But they choose not to see what it means.
In today’s Gospel reading, we witness this kind of blindness most clearly in the Pharisees.
They see that a man who had been blind can now see.
But instead of rejoicing, they begin questioning.
How did this happen?
Who did it and did it happen on the Sabbath?
Their focus shifts away from the healing and towards the rules.
Instead of celebrating a life restored, they begin building a case against Jesus.
We also see this blindness spreading to others in the story.
The man’s parents know their son was blind and can now see.
Yet when they are questioned, they step back and say Ask him. He is of age.
Their response is shaped by fear — fear of being excluded from the synagogue, fear of losing their place in the community.
Convenient blindness is not limited to the world of the first century.
It still appears in our world today.
Sometimes it looks like turning a blind eye to injustice around us.
Sometimes it appears when fear stops us from doing or saying what we know in our hearts is right.
And sometimes it appears when we hold so tightly to familiar ways of thinking that we cannot recognise when God might be doing something new.
There is also a third kind of blindness in this story.
And this blindness runs even deeper.
We might call this spiritual blindness.
This is the inability to recognise God at work.
And once again, it is the Pharisees who reveal the symptoms.
They know the scriptures.
They know the traditions.
They know the religious laws.
Yet they cannot see what is happening right in front of them.
Instead of recognising God’s work, the leaders argue about authority.
Instead of recognising compassion, they argue about rules.
And slowly, as the story unfolds, a striking reversal takes place.
The man who began the story blind begins to see more and more clearly.
At first he simply calls Jesus “the man called Jesus.”
Later he calls him a prophet.
Then he says that Jesus must be from God.
He does not come to faith all at once.
He almost argues himself into faith.
Through questions, challenge and even opposition, his understanding grows stronger.
Meanwhile those who began the story confident in their sight become more and more blind.
This is not just a story about sight.
It is a story about exclusion, fear, courage and about being found by Jesus when others turn away.
Because the story does not end with the man being healed.
After he speaks boldly about Jesus, he is driven out of the synagogue.
He loses his place in the community.
Yet something remarkable has happened within him.
The man who once sat silently begging now speaks with courage.
His sight gives him not only vision, but voice.
When Jesus hears that he has been cast out, he goes looking for him.
The miracle is not only that the man can now see.
The miracle is that he is not abandoned.
Jesus finds him.
Speaks with him.
Reveals himself to him.
And it is then that the man says, “Lord, I believe.”
There is also one more form of blindness in this Gospel which I have named blaming blindness.
At the beginning of the story the disciples asked a question that people still ask today.
“Who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?”
In the world of that time many people believed suffering must be the result of someone’s sin.
But Jesus refuses that explanation.
He says neither this man nor his parents sinned.
Instead, Jesus says this man’s life will reveal the work of God.
And that changes everything.
The story is no longer about blame.
It becomes a story about transformation.
The man in today’s Gospel began his journey in darkness.
He ended it in light.
Not just because his eyes were opened,
but because his heart was awakened.
And perhaps that is the journey of Lent.
To move from certainty to curiosity.
From fear to trust.
From blindness to deeper sight.
Because Jesus is always at work in our world —
often in ways we do not expect.
The invitation is simple.
To let the light of Christ change the way we see.
So that we too can say as the blindman did.
“One thing I do know — that though I was blind, now I see.”
Amen