On the Fourth Sunday of Lent, when we hear the story of the man born blind, we usually think about physical blindness, as Jesus performs a miracle and restores his sight. But the story goes deeper than that.
Yes, the man was physically blind, but he was also spiritually blind. He didn’t fully understand who Jesus was. His vision comes gradually as his physical sight is restored, and his spiritual sight grows, as well. Meanwhile, the religious leaders (who can see just fine) refuse to recognize what God is doing right in front of them. The real blindness in this story isn’t about eyes; it’s about the heart.
Sometimes, even though we may not like to admit it, we, too, can be spiritually blind to Christ’s teachings. You might be thinking, “Surely not me.” But if we’re honest, we are all human. We are all sinners. We all have moments where we look the other way, justify something we shouldn’t, or convince ourselves that we’re doing better than we really are. I know I do.
Christ’s teachings are clear: love one another, care for the vulnerable, live the Beatitudes, and see the dignity in every person. But it’s possible to say we believe these things while quietly creating exceptions.
Blind spots often show up in quiet indifference. This can look like deciding that certain issues matter more than others because they align with our comfort zones. It can also appear as being generous in structured settings but disengaged in everyday encounters. Moreover, it can look like tuning out suffering and war because they feel overwhelming or complicated.
Sometimes, we avoid seeing things because doing so would require something from us. That’s what makes blind spots so difficult: We don’t notice them, and often, we don’t want to.
But healing begins with awareness. In the Gospel, sight is restored when the man allows Jesus to act. In our own lives, spiritual sight begins when we humbly admit, “Lord, I may not be seeing clearly.”
This week, as we reflect on Christ healing the man born blind, let’s ask for the courage to name our blind spots, whether they show up as pride, judgment, indifference, or selective compassion. From there, let’s invite Jesus to open our eyes, for once we can see clearly, we can love more fully.
