A leading Catholic theologian has revealed a strong “lament” that has emerged from the “listening phase” of the Church’s global synodal process.

Catholics, it turns out, are desperate for their priests to preach better homilies.

…

Professor Rowlands is one of the few people to have read every single documented submitted to the synod office from the worldwide church as a result of the listening phase.

That is a pretty severe Lenten penance to have read every single one of them.

But one strong, universal theme that emerged from the listening phase was concern about the quality of sermons.

“The quality of homilies is a major, major universal feedback across the Church – people lamenting, either sermons that are just too hurriedly prepared or sermons that are too abstract and intellectual, or sermons that lack any kind of real meat and content to them.

“So there’s a kind of lament from across the world that we would like better homilies that genuinely feed us spiritually. Well that doesn’t require a policy change in Rome to make that happen.” Source

This is probably a lament across all times and space regarding homilies. This is a complaint that will never be remedied. We can not really expect a perfectly crafted homily that speaks to us for many reasons.

One thing to remember is that a homily that we might consider too abstract or not speaking directly to us might be exactly what another person needed to hear. Talking to others in my parish, I remember occasions where somebody is left dry by a homily I thought was fantastic on every level, preferring the style and content of another priest. A salutary reminder that it is not “all about us” and that we should be thankful for our priests, regardless.

It is too easy to sit back critiquing topics of homilies because it does not address your particular hobby horse, usually what you see as somebody else’s sins. Often we don’t want to be preached to, but confirmed in what we already accept. Priest also vary in personality, style, learning, level of insights, etc. We should accept this as long as the homilies are orthodox and seek to reduce our own barriers to what is being preached. I am not perfect in this myself. There are homilies where I zone out intellectually and I have to remind myself to take what nuggets I can.

Another problem is that we put too much onus on the importance of a homily. The average weekly Mass going Catholic will hear 52 plus a few days of other Solemnities during the year. If you expect that roughly 10 minutes during the week as being the full catechesis you need, you are expecting too much.

Some priests are going to be more effective homilists than others, and no amount of preparation and training will overcome. Writing to the Synod complaining about homilies is not going to move the needle.

Pope Benedict XVI wrote in his post-synodal apostolic exhortation Verbum Domini:

The homily is a means of bringing the scriptural message to life in a way that helps the faithful to realize that God’s word is present and at work in their everyday lives. It should lead to an understanding of the mystery being celebrated, serve as a summons to mission, and prepare the assembly for the profession of faith, the universal prayer and the Eucharistic liturgy.

Pope Benedict could deliver the Platonic form of a homily that meets these conditions, but how receptive are we if we hear a well-crafted homily on the day’s readings? Is it always the fault of the homilist if ten minutes later we have forgotten the message of the homily along with the day’s readings?

Besides, if you feel you are not being nourished spiritually from homilies, you are hearing—what are you doing to feed yourself spiritually? What efforts are you making regarding spiritual reading, Eucharistic Adoration, or finding devotions that help you?

One last point is that even when we hear a less than ideal homily, we are still hearing the Word of God read to us. Instead of complaining about the perceived quality of a homily, maybe we could spend some time in gratitude for the priests we have who give us the Sacraments and their service.

John 11:1–45 ESV – The Death of Lazarus – Bible Gateway

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We have another marathon passage from the Gospel of John on this the fourth Sunday of Lent and in this case a story unique to John. We were introduced to the sisters Martha and Mary of Bethany in the Gospel of Luke and John expects that we already know them and the story of Mary anointing and wiping Jesus; feet with her hair. Their brother Lazarus was not previously mentioned. The sisters send word to Jesus about their brother, “Lord, he whom you love is ill.” I like to reflect on this regarding in his earthly life how many friendships he had and all those he dearly loved that are anonymous to us. From his childhood on up he would have had many such friendships and to this day this continues for us. I think I should use the phrase, “Lord, he whom you love is ill.” more in my own intercessory prayers for those who are ill since the Lord indeed loves the person I am praying for.

I don’t know if Jesus’ initial reply that Lazarus’ illness does not lead to death, but to the glory of God, was sent back to the sisters. It seems likely to me it was, and they must have pondered over it when their brother died. Perhaps Martha reflected on the aspect that ultimately death is conquered and the belief in the resurrection of the dead. Based on her later interaction with Jesus, they reflected on this and were strengthened.

After waiting two days, he tells his disciples that they are returning to Judea, which they had recently left because of the danger they were in. The disciples remind him of the threat, and Jesus gives them what seems to be an enigmatic reply. A reminder to them he is the light to the world and that anywhere they go with him they will not stumble as they are safe with him. In the context of the rest of the parable, a safety not necessarily protective of illness and death, but protection against a second death from sin. Jesus further makes the point as he did at the start of this passage that Lazarus’ death will lead to belief and ultimately to his glory.

By the time they reach Bethany, which is very near to Jerusalem, Lazarus has been entombed for four days.

Dr. John Bergsma explains the significance of the number of days:

…the Jewish understanding was that the first three days of death were an intermediate state, in which the soul stayed close to the body. But after three days, death was final. It’s a bit like Billy Crystal’s routine as Miracle Max when examining the dead body of Wesley in The Princess Bride. “There’s a big difference between mostly dead and all dead!” In this case, Lazarus is all dead.[1]

When Martha gets word that Jesus is near, she goes out to meet and talk with him about her brother. I can imagine both her grief and her joy as she tries to understand Jesus’ delay. Joyful to see him, especially as her faith has increased.

Peter Kreeft has some very insightful thoughts on this:

Now we see these same two sisters acting out their parts again. Mary quietly stays in the house while Martha busily runs to meet Jesus down the road—which is good, and shows faith in Jesus; but Mary has the greater faith. She waits until Jesus calls her, and then she immediately comes: at his desire rather than hers. On the previous visit of Jesus to their house, if Jesus had told Mary to leave him and go into the kitchen to help Martha, she would gladly have done it. It’s not a question of prayer versus good works; it’s a question of “Thy will be done” versus “My will be done.” That’s the difference between the greater faith and the lesser faith. Like Martha’s busy works, our desires and hopes and loves are many, but Mary’s is only one: Jesus himself. That’s why Jesus has to redirect Martha’s faith and hope from the future resurrection of the many to the present one, the one who is “the resurrection and the life.” Lazarus was only a large part of her life, and of her love, and of her hope; Jesus was to be all of it.[2]

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Although Mary’s faith is greater, yet even that lesser faith of Martha’s is real faith. But Jesus increases it, and that’s our third point, the point of the dialogue between Jesus and Martha before he raises Lazarus. In this conversation with Martha, Jesus performs an even greater miracle than the one he does a few minutes later in raising Lazarus from the dead. He raises Martha’s faith. That’s a greater miracle than raising a dead body, because a dead body has no power to resist him but a live soul does. A dead body has no mind or will to think wrong thoughts or to refuse to believe; but a living human soul does. When God created the universe out of nothing, that was a great deed, but when he makes a saint out of a sinner, or makes a greater saint out of a lesser one, which is what he did to Martha here, that is an even greater deed, because nothingness had no power to resist his word when he commanded it to become something, as Lazarus’ dead body had no power to disobey his command to rise. But a human soul has free will and it can hold back; it can be double minded; it can be mistrusting as well as trusting.[3]

Dr. Brant Pitre makes a similar point:

And so when he asks Martha “do you believe in me?”, Martha makes a confession of faith that is almost as great as Peters in the Gospel of Matthew.[4]

Fundamentally, what this comes down to is that we often plan out how God should respond to our prayers and giving him the timeline we want, which is usually right now! Often we both step out in faith and in lack of faith. That even when we have a strong faith that it can be vivified and further enlivened. Jesus will bring more out of us when we more fully trust him. This is a letting go of self as we enter a deeper relationship of trust.

Returning to Dr. Peter Kreeft:

And the answer is that God is answering our prayers. God answers all prayers. But his timing is better than ours. We want instant answers, and they are not usually what is best for us. In his wisdom God knows this, knows that in the end it will work out better for us and for those we pray for if he uses his power in his time, not ours. There is no limit to his power. He can heal the sick, he can raise the dead, and he can convert the unbeliever. And there is no limit to his love: he wants what is really best for every single one of us, whether we deserve it or not. But he knows what we do not know. He works all things out for good in the end, but we do not see the end; we do not see the future. He does. If we trust his love, his power, _and his wisdom—_all of which are perfect and unlimited and infinite—he will do something better than we ask for, not something worse.[5]

Martha’s sister Mary comes out to meet Jesus and displays her faith and trust in him. She waits until Jesus calls her and they relayed the message to her.

John Bergsma reflects on Jesus’ reaction:

In response to Mary’s weeping and that of the other mourners, Jesus becomes “perturbed”—in verse 33 and also 38. The Greek word used here (embrimaomai) is very strong—“he became angry within himself.” What is the cause of Jesus’s anger? The brute fact of death in a fallen, sinful world? A lack of faith among the mourners? Commentators have not come to a satisfactory consensus. Surely, though, one of the purposes of St. John in reporting the emotion of Jesus is to stress his sharing in our human nature, including the depth of human emotion. It is often said that the Gospel of John portrays Jesus as most clearly divine among all the Gospels; at the same time, John portrays Jesus in some of the most deeply human moments of his ministry: “Jesus wept.”[6]

The Ignatius Catholic Study Bible, New Testament, looks at one possibility for Jesus’ anger:

Literally, “angered”. Though left unexplained, Jesus is probably angry with the Jews who are now weeping with Mary but who will soon betray him to hostile authorities (11:46). In other words, he foresees that the raising of Lazarus, while strengthening the faith of some, will also occasion the unbelief and treachery of others (11:53; 12:10)[7]

The raising of Lazarus was witnessed by so many people who had come to Bethany to mourn his death during a seven-day period. The reaction to this miracle appears to be mixed, especially as the news is passed around later. Sometimes we think or hear about God’s silence and we desire to witness miracles to give us strength or to show God’s power to others. This episode reminds us faith is not just generated by signs and wonders forced to believe and accept. We can reject the obvious when it does not fit are preconceptions or desires. The Israelites witnessed a great number of miracles, yet also easily fell away as they would return to their previous beliefs.

Via the Catholic Commentary on Sacred Scripture on “The Gospel of Matthew”:

The raising of Lazarus is the preeminent sign in Jesus’ public ministry, and like Jesus himself, it prompts different responses from people. Many of the Jews who had come to Mary saw the sign and began to believe in him—the outcome for which Jesus prayed before raising Lazarus (11:42). However, others went to the Pharisees and told them what Jesus had done. This report prompts a meeting of the Jerusalem religious authorities, where they decide to seek Jesus’ death (11:53). The irony is striking: Jesus’ giving life to Lazarus leads to his own death. This is the dynamic that Jesus expressed in speaking about himself as the good shepherd: the good shepherd freely sacrifices his life (10:11, 15) so that his sheep may receive life (10:10).[8]

We have made much of Jesus’ reaction and his weeping over Lazarus. This is one aspect of the Incarnation to dwell on and a facet to think on in our own faith reaction to grief. Mary of Bethany has a strong and active faith and trusted implicitly in Jesus, and she wept in her grief. Jesus, knowing that he would raise Lazarus, weeps. He knows Lazarus will also experience physical death again later and raised up into eternal life. Those who have a strong faith can be perturbed by grief, as it can be felt as a lack of trust that Jesus will raise up their loved ones. Faith does not turn us into stoics, but helps us to love more deeply and to let process our emotional responses formed in grief. Let us join Jesus when he weeps.

One last reflection from Francis A. Schaeffer:

“To me, what Jesus did at the tomb of Lazarus sets the world on fire—it becomes a great shout into the morass of the twentieth century. Jesus came to the tomb of Lazarus. The One who claims to be God stood before the tomb, and the Greek language makes it very plain that he had two emotions. The first was tears for Lazarus, but the second emotion was anger. He was furious; and he could be furious at the abnormality of death without being furious with Himself as God. This is tremendous in the context of the twentieth century. When I look at evil—the cruelty which is abnormal to that which God made—my reaction should be the same. I am able not only to cry over the evil, but I can be angry at the evil—as long as I am careful that egoism does not enter into my reaction. I have a basis to fight the thing which is abnormal to what God originally made. The Christian should be in the front line, fighting the results of man’s cruelty, for we know that it is not what God has made. We are able to be angry at the results of man’s cruelty ❲and the abnormal world resulting from sin❳ without being angry at God or being angry at what is normal.”[9]

References

• The Word of the Lord: Reflections on the Sunday Mass Readings for Year A – John Bergsma
• Peter Kreeft, Food for the Soul: Reflections on the Mass Readings Cycle A
• Catholic Productions, Commentaries by Brant Pitre
• The Ignatius Catholic Study Bible꞉ The New Testament
• The Gospel of Matthew (Catholic Commentary on Sacred Scripture)
• St. John’s Gospel: A Bible Study Guide and Commentary for Individuals and Groups: Ray, Stephen K.
• Photo by Ben White on Unsplash

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1. The Word of the Lord: Reflections on the Sunday Mass Readings for Year A, John Bergsma, Fourth Sunday of Lent  ↩
2. Peter Kreeft, Food for the Soul: Reflections on the Mass Readings Cycle A, Fourth Sunday of Lent  ↩
3. ibid  ↩
4. Catholic Productions, Brant Pitre, Fourth Sunday of Lent  ↩
5. Peter Kreeft, Food for the Soul: Reflections on the Mass Readings Cycle A, Fourth Sunday of Lent  ↩
6. The Word of the Lord: Reflections on the Sunday Mass Readings for Year A, John Bergsma, Fourth Sunday of Lent  ↩
7. Ignatius Catholic Study Bible: New Testament  ↩
8. The Gospel of Matthew, Catholic Commentary on Sacred Scripture, Edward Sri and Curtis Mitch  ↩
9. Francis A. Schaeffer, He Is There and He Is Not Silent, in The Complete Works of Francis A. Schaeffer (Westchester, Ill. Crossway Books, 1982), 1:301–2. Excerpted from St. John’s Gospel: A Bible Study Guide and Commentary for Individuals and Groups. Steve Ray, 2002  ↩

9 As he passed by, he saw a man blind from birth. ²  And his disciples asked him, “Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?” ³  Jesus answered, “It was not that this man sinned, or his parents, but that the works of God might be displayed in him. ⁴  We must work the works of him who sent me while it is day; night is coming, when no one can work. ⁵  As long as I am in the world, I am the light of the world.” ⁶  Having said these things, he spit on the ground and made mud with the saliva. Then he anointed the man’s eyes with the mud ⁷  and said to him, “Go, wash in the pool of Siloam” (which means Sent). So he went and washed and came back seeing.

⁸  The neighbors and those who had seen him before as a beggar were saying, “Is this not the man who used to sit and beg?” ⁹  Some said, “It is he.” Others said, “No, but he is like him.” He kept saying, “I am the man.” ¹⁰  So they said to him, “Then how were your eyes opened?” ¹¹  He answered, “The man called Jesus made mud and anointed my eyes and said to me, ‘Go to Siloam and wash.’ So I went and washed and received my sight.” ¹²  They said to him, “Where is he?” He said, “I do not know.”

¹³  They brought to the Pharisees the man who had formerly been blind. ¹⁴  Now it was a Sabbath day when Jesus made the mud and opened his eyes. ¹⁵  So the Pharisees again asked him how he had received his sight. And he said to them, “He put mud on my eyes, and I washed, and I see.” ¹⁶  Some of the Pharisees said, “This man is not from God, for he does not keep the Sabbath.” But others said, “How can a man who is a sinner do such signs?” And there was a division among them. ¹⁷  So they said again to the blind man, “What do you say about him, since he has opened your eyes?” He said, “He is a prophet.”

¹⁸  The Jews did not believe that he had been blind and had received his sight, until they called the parents of the man who had received his sight ¹⁹  and asked them, “Is this your son, who you say was born blind? How then does he now see?” ²⁰  His parents answered, “We know that this is our son and that he was born blind. ²¹  But how he now sees we do not know, nor do we know who opened his eyes. Ask him; he is of age. He will speak for himself.” ²²  (His parents said these things because they feared the Jews, for the Jews had already agreed that if anyone should confess Jesus to be Christ, he was to be put out of the synagogue.) ²³  Therefore his parents said, “He is of age; ask him.”

²⁴  So for the second time they called the man who had been blind and said to him, “Give glory to God. We know that this man is a sinner.” ²⁵  He answered, “Whether he is a sinner I do not know. One thing I do know, that though I was blind, now I see.”²⁶  They said to him, “What did he do to you? How did he open your eyes?” ²⁷  He answered them, “I have told you already, and you would not listen. Why do you want to hear it again? Do you also want to become his disciples?” ²⁸  And they reviled him, saying, “You are his disciple, but we are disciples of Moses. ²⁹  We know that God has spoken to Moses, but as for this man, we do not know where he comes from.”³⁰  The man answered, “Why, this is an amazing thing! You do not know where he comes from, and yet he opened my eyes. ³¹  We know that God does not listen to sinners, but if anyone is a worshiper of God and does his will, God listens to him.³²  Never since the world began has it been heard that anyone opened the eyes of a man born blind. ³³  If this man were not from God, he could do nothing.” ³⁴  They answered him, “You were born in utter sin, and would you teach us?” And they cast him out.

³⁵  Jesus heard that they had cast him out, and having found him he said, “Do you believe in the Son of Man?” ³⁶  He answered, “And who is he, sir, that I may believe in him?” ³⁷  Jesus said to him, “You have seen him, and it is he who is speaking to you.” ³⁸  He said, “Lord, I believe,” and he worshiped him. ³⁹  Jesus said, “For judgment I came into this world, that those who do not see may see, and those who see may become blind.” ⁴⁰  Some of the Pharisees near him heard these things, and said to him, “Are we also blind?” ⁴¹  Jesus said to them, “If you were blind, you would have no guilt; but now that you say, ‘We see,’ your guilt remains.

John 9:1–41 ESV – Bible Gateway

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This Sunday we see the theme of Living Water, as in baptism, continued in this Gospel story. One thing to keep in mind regarding the readings in Lent and what the Church intends, “She is preparing the catechumens to receive that grace of illumination, the sight that they will receive in the washing of the water in the font of Baptism.”[1] “As is well known, today’s Gospel is an extended mystagogy on the sacrament of Baptism”[2]

In the Gospels we have several instances of Jesus healing the blind with specific individuals or as references to him healing the blind. John provides us with this unique instance of one story and the longest regarding this healing. In general, we find that one or more blind people approach Jesus crying out for healing or they are brought to him for healing. Here, the man born blind is first observed by Jesus and then the disciples. The disciples want to enter a theological discussion on who is culpable for the man’s blindness, whether the fault laid with this man or his parents. Jesus cuts this discussion to the quick moving from blame to show “that the works of God might be displayed in him.” The work Jesus is about to do, he includes us in that we “must work the works of him who sent me.” He proceeds directly to take dirt and his saliva to make mud and to anoint the man’s eyes to heal him.

I see this partly as a reminder for us when we see those who are suffering from material or spiritual evils, to look past causes and who to blame for their condition. To instead act and do what we can do through God’s grace given to us. The causes are not unimportant and there is time and place to reflect on them and to act to rectify them, but the individual is not to be treated as something abstract, but as a person in the image and likeness of God.

We have another instance of Jesus using his saliva to heal a blind man, such as the man at Bethsaida in Mark 8:22. In this story, this is a much deeper level in Jesus’ sacramental application of this miracle. It seems so odd to us he would mix dirt with his saliva to heal him.

Dr. John Bergsma’s opinion on one aspect of this is based on the Dead Sea Scrolls:

“where man is described as being “kneaded from dust … he is so much spit … mere knipped-off clay” (cf. 1 QS 11:21; 1QHa 20:35; 4Q264 1 9). I think this reflects an ancient Jewish understanding of the creation story in which God spat on the ground and formed Adam’s body from the resultant clay/mud.”[3]

Dr. Brant Pitre expands on this:

Well you wont’t be surprised to realize that it really lies in the Old Testament, it lies in the Jewish roots of Jesus’s action here. Because in first century Judaism—this is really interesting—there was a tradition going all the way back—the Dead Sea Scrolls refer to this—that when God made Adam from the dust of the ground he used spittle. That he used spit. Because if you try to make something from dust, you can’t do it. You can’t mold a statue of dust. You have to have some liquid in order to hold the dirt together. So the Jews had this tradition that when God made Adam, he made him from spit and clay. He made him from his own spit, and the Dead Sea Scrolls actually have a line that said that Adam, or man, was made from “spat saliva, molded clay.” So think about that for a second. If in Jewish tradition God makes Adam from spit and dust from the clay, what is Jesus doing here?[4]

Jesus is further revealing himself as not just a prophet granted to perform miracles.

Jesus is acting like God acted in the Old Testament. In other words, he is performing an act of a new creation. Just as Adam was given his body from the clay, so Jesus now gives the man born blind sight. He gives him, in a sense, new eyes from the clay and his own spittle. So this is like a divine action for Jesus to spit on the ground and make clay and give this man sight.[5]

Jesus instructs the man to “Go, wash in the pool of Siloam” and John amplifies that Siloam means ‘sent.’ This Recalls the miracle of Elisha in 2 Kings 5:10–14 where Naaman the Syrian is instructed to “go and wash” in the Jordan River to cure his leprosy. “The editorial comment that Siloam means Sent suggests that the pool is a symbol of Jesus, the source of living water (4:10) and the One sent by his Father (9:4; 12:44). Its contents are symbolic of the Spirit, who is the living water poured out by Christ (7:38–39) and the One who is sent by the Father and the Son (14:26; 15:26).”[6]

The reference to Siloam also intones deeper waters (pun always intended) as to the significance, which John Bergsma brings out:

New creation themes are present elsewhere. After anointing his eyes, Jesus sends the man to the Pool of Siloam to wash. The pool of Siloam collected the waters of the Gihon, the spring that provided water for Jerusalem. It was named the Gihon after one of the rivers of Eden (Gen 2:13) because the Jews saw Jerusalem as a kind of new Eden. So, mystically, the waters of Siloam were Edenic or creational waters. The man is being made new.[7]

St. Ambrose reflects on the significance of this healing:

In one instant, we see the power of Jesus’ divinity and the strength of his holiness. As the divine light, he touched this man and enlightened him; as priest, by an action symbolizing baptism, he wrought in him his work of redemption. The only reason for Jesus mixing clay with the spittle and smearing it on the eyes of the man born blind was to remind you that he who restored the man to health by anointing his eyes with clay is the very one who fashioned the first man out of clay. And that this clay is our flesh that can receive the light of eternal life through the sacrament of baptism. You too should come to Siloam. Let Christ wash you and then you will see. Come and be baptized; it is time. Come quickly and you too will be able to say, “I was blind and now I see.”[8]

St. John goes on describing the reaction of those confronted with this miracle. Much of the reactions is as skepticism rooted in a bias against Jesus. A small part of this skepticism was whether this was the same man or whether he had actually been blind from birth—a miracle never previously observed in the Old Testament. Most of the skepticism was not formed from observation, but a rejection by the Pharisees that Jesus could be the Messiah. They are more concentrated on Jesus performing a miracle on the Sabbath, then that a miracle was performed. Among the Pharisees, there were different opinions, with some seeing this as a true sign, but unable to take the next step in its meaning. When presented with a truth that goes against our expectations, we dampen its importance because it goes against an acceptable position within our group identity. The blind man’s parents were afraid to be truthful when questioned by the Pharisees.

By shifting the focus back to their son, his parents put him in jeopardy in order to protect themselves. They act out of fear and self-interest. Throughout John 9, the formerly blind man is the only one who testifies in Jesus’ defense. By explaining the parents’ motivation, John sets up a contrast between the parents’ fearfulness and their son’s courage.[9]

There are many obvious intended parallels between the physical blindness of the man and the spiritual blindness of those who witnessed the effects of this miracle.

Dr. Peter Kreeft reflects in his commentary.

…the obvious point, of the story: that we are all born blind, that is, not in union with God, who is the source of all light, both physical and spiritual; and that we all need to be healed from this spiritual blindness; and that only Christ can heal us and restore us to the light, that is, to the truth, especially the truth about God, the amazing truth that God is love.[10]

…if you were really only blind and ignorant like this blind man, and if you knew you were blind and ignorant, if your minds were in the dark but your hearts were open to the light, then you would not be guilty of pride. Ignorance is not a sin; pride is. But because you insist that you already see, that you are supremely wise, you are fools. You refuse to admit that you might be wrong. Because your hearts are closed, therefore your minds are closed too, and therefore you are blind. That’s a very serious sin. You are deliberately closing your eyes to the truth in your pride and arrogance.[11]

One aspect I find most interesting is the reaction of the man born blind himself. He is not the one to approach Jesus. Jesus directly approaches him. We do not know his initial reaction to Jesus’ approach, but the story shows his shift of attitude from not knowing who Jesus is to worshiping him. We can imagine that throughout this man’s life that he had pursued healing, or that some came to him claiming they could perform a healing for him. The women who had bleeding for 12 years complained of the doctors who tried to heal her and this man might have experienced the same. Still, he receives the sacramental treatment Jesus gives him and is obedient in going to the pool of Siloam to wash. As he is later questioned and then questioned again he reflects on more regarding who Jesus is. The Pharisees’ very questions lead him to see their blindness and the inconsistencies of their argument to a dawning faith as to Jesus being a prophet. When Jesus than questions him “Do you believe in the Son of Man?”, he is willing to take on authority that Jesus is the Son of Man and what the implications mean and was moved to belief and worship.

Sources

Catholic Productions, Commentaries by Brant Pitre
The Word of the Lord: Reflections on the Sunday Mass Readings for Year A – John Bergsma
The Ignatius Catholic Study Bible꞉ The New Testament
The Gospel of John (Catholic Commentary on Sacred Scripture)
Peter Kreeft, Food for the Soul: Reflections on the Mass Readings Cycle A
Photo by Ben White on Unsplash

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1. Catholic Productions, Brant Pitre, The Fourth Sunday of Lent (Year A)  ↩
2. The Word of the Lord: Reflections on the Sunday Mass Readings for Year A, John Bergsma, The Fourth Sunday of Lent  ↩
3. ibid  ↩
4. Catholic Productions, Brant Pitre, The Fourth Sunday of Lent (Year A)  ↩
5. ibid  ↩
6. Ignatius Catholic Study Bible: New Testament  ↩
7. The Word of the Lord: Reflections on the Sunday Mass Readings for Year A, John Bergsma, The Fourth Sunday of Lent  ↩
8. St. Ambrose, Letter 80, 1–5: PL 16,1326  ↩
9. Francis Martin, William M. Wright IV, The Gospel of John (Catholic Commentary on Sacred Scripture)  ↩
10. Peter Kreeft, Food for the Soul: Reflections on the Mass Readings Cycle A, The Fourth Sunday of Lent  ↩
11. ibid  ↩