Are We Blind to God's Blessings? (Lent IV - Cycle A)


Today's Gospel passage reminds me of an ironic time. When acquaintances would ask about how things were going in my life and I would give them a brief overview, they would invariably tell me how happy they were that things were going so well for me. The irony was that I was feeling absolutely miserable about my life during this time. I was simply unable to see the blessings that had been given to me.

In the Gospel passage for this Sunday, the leaders do not see the blessing that is so plainly before them. Ironically, the blind person regains his sight, but the people who have been able to see physically are not able to see spiritually, and they disregard even the physical evidence before them.

In our own lives, what blessings are we disregarding? Are we allowing the busyness of our schedules to block out God's blessings? Are we allowing unfulfilling forms of pleasure to keep us from accepting the ultimate joy that can only come from God's love?

Are we allowing our suffering to make us closed off from the love that God wants to give to us? When I was feeling so miserable and was unable to acknowledge the blessings in my life, I was too preoccupied with the suffering I was experiencing to embrace the blessings I had received. I kept thinking that I could only be happy if all the things that were making me suffer were removed from my life. I wanted to get to a new place in my life, where everything would be fine, and then I could feel blessed.

What I realized many years later is that even my suffering can be a source of blessings. Through suffering, I can grow, become less selfish, more loving, and more open to the love of God in my life. After years of anguished spiritual wandering, I finally reached the point where I could give God thanks even for my suffering. When I did, I could suddenly see how full of blessings my life really is.

Ever since then, I have engaged in one very helpful practice, one that I call Three Things. Every night at the end of our prayers, my wife and I each name three things from the day we are grateful for. They can be bigger events or just small things to brighten our day. By doing so, I have been able to reframe how I view each day. Instead of brooding on misery, I seek to see the many blessings present in my life. More and more, this simple practice of thanksgiving has helped me to open my eyes to God's grace.

The Gospel passage for this Sunday also highlights another aspect of suffering. Jesus is asked if the blind man had been born blind because of his own sins or because of the sins of his parents. Jesus tells them: "Neither he nor his parents sinned; it is so that the works of God might be made visible through him." (John 9:3) Through these words, Jesus contradicts a popular theological assumption, the Prosperity Gospel, which holds that if we do good in life, we will do well in a material sense. Likewise, if we suffer, it is because we are guilty of sin. But the life and teachings of Jesus both show that the holiest people can suffer greatly, as Jesus himself did.

Sinful behavior will cause suffering as a consequence, since sin brings about a disordered relationship with God. Suffering can also be a punishment for sin. But sometimes we suffer not because we have sinned but because we need to experience suffering in order to grow. We often need suffering to let go of the things of the world that bind us and so that we can turn fully to God. We often need suffering in order to become less focused on ourselves and to become more loving toward others.

But much depends on how we process suffering. The difference becomes very evident in a hospice setting, where the residents are often suffering greatly and are close to death. Some are angry and abusive. They project their suffering on the staff who are seeking to help them. But others are loving and kind. I am reminded of my wife's aunt, Mary Carol, who died in hospice in Spokane about thirteen years ago. Her frail body was riddled with cancer. She was in a tremendous amount of pain. But her whole being glowed with an inner beauty, with an otherworldly love. The closer she got to death, the more she seemed to be a conduit of heavenly grace to the people around her. As we kept watch at her bedside in her final days, we just did not want to leave. The sense of God's love was so powerfully present in the room. As her body was shutting down, Mary Carol kept repeating snippets of prayers and hymns. Her final discernable words were: "I love you forever."

Mary Carol was an example of someone who used her suffering to become a more loving person. She did not lash out at others, but learned to love more deeply. Years ago, I heard Sr. Miriam James Heidland say during a talk: "Suffering that is not transformed is transferred." If we do not use our suffering to grow, we become the cause of suffering in other people's lives. We will all suffer greatly at some point in our lives, perhaps throughout our lives. But what we do with our suffering is up to us. We can let it destroy us and choose to become an evil person who leaves behind sorrow and destruction. Or we can use our suffering to become a saint, a conduit of God's infinite, unending love to all those we encounter in this life. The choice is ours.


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The readings for the Fourth Suday of Lent, Cycle A, are:

1 Sm 16:1b, 6-7, 10-13a
Psalm 23: 1-3a, 3b-4, 5, 6
Rom 5:1-2, 5-8
Jn 9:1-41

The full text can be found at the USCCB website.

Photo Credit: Jerusalem Skyline by Zoltan Abraham (c) 2016.