
By Deacon Richard Hay
“Learning to see as God sees…”
This Sunday the Catholic Church offers a quiet but beautiful surprise. During Mass, priests and deacons are wearing rose-colored vestments, the rarest liturgical color used in the entire Church year. Rose appears only twice—on Gaudete Sunday in Advent and Laetare Sunday in Lent—and it signals a moment of joy in the middle of seasons that are normally marked by preparation and penance. The color is a gentle reminder that even while we wait, repent, and reflect, the light of Christ is coming, and the hope of Easter is already breaking through.
This weekend we also continue the scrutiny’s for the catechumens and candidates who are preparing to receive the sacraments at Easter.
Like Fr. Marek last week, I chose to proclaim the longer version of today’s gospel for this weekend because St. John once again weaves such a beautiful story about the man born blind and how his faith grows after encountering the Lord. This directly translates to the sacraments and our own lives of faith.
Today’s readings are about learning to see as God sees.
In our first reading, when Samuel arrives at Jesse’s house to anoint the next king, he is ready to be impressed. He sees the oldest son — tall, strong, the kind of man who looks like he belongs in charge. Samuel thinks, “This must be the one.”
But God interrupts Samuel’s assumptions with a powerful response – “Not as man sees does God see, the Lord looks into the heart.”
David, the youngest, the overlooked one, the one who was still out in the fields caring for the sheep, he is the one God chooses.
This is God’s way. God sees potential where we see limitations. God sees dignity where we see flaws. God sees belovedness where we see brokenness. And if that’s how God sees others… it’s how God sees each and every one of us.
Then in our Psalm, one that we are all familiar with, we are reminded of the tenderness of God’s love and accompaniment – “The Lord is my shepherd; there is nothing I shall want.”
Did you know that shepherds in ancient times used oil on the faces of their sheep to keep insects away and to heal small wounds. That image is not far from what we receive in the sacraments — anointing with oil to strengthen, to heal, to protect.
And notice something – the psalm never says we will avoid the dark valley. It simply says we won’t walk it alone. God’s presence doesn’t always remove the difficulty, but it transforms the journey.
In St. Paul’s letter to the Ephesians, he tells us – “You were once darkness, but now you are light in the Lord.”
St. Paul doesn’t say we were *in* darkness — he says we *were* darkness. And now, through baptism, we *are* light. That is not a small shift – that is a complete transformation of identity.
Baptism wipes away original sin and gives us our first sacramental encounter with the Holy Spirit. In Baptism we are anointed with the Oil of Salvation and Sacred Chrism. It changes the way God sees us — and the way we are called to see ourselves.
However, the reality is that stepping into the light can be uncomfortable. Light reveals things. It shows us what needs healing, forgiveness, and what needs to be surrendered. It shows us parts of ourselves that we try to hide and ignore. Yet – it also reveals our goodness, our belovedness, our calling. Lent is the season when God gently says, “Let me shine my light there. Let me help you see.”
St. John gives us another full chapter in the Gospel this week — just like last week with the Woman at the Well. And again, the theme is relationship, recognition, and revelation.
There are two kinds of blindness in this Gospel. There is the physical blindness of the man who cannot see. And there is the spiritual blindness of those who refuse to see — the Pharisees, the neighbors, even the disciples at first.
The disciples begin with a question – “Whose fault is this?” they ask the Lord. They want to assign blame, but Jesus refuses that approach. He instead says the man’s blindness is not punishment — but it is an opportunity where “God’s works can be revealed.”
Then Jesus kneels down, makes clay, and gently places it on the man’s eyes. There is something so very tender and intimate at that moment — God’s hands touching the very place of pain for this man. Just like God touches and heals those parts of our lives through the sacraments, that cause us pain.
Then Jesus sends him to wash in the Pool of Siloam. The man returns able to see, but the deeper miracle is what happens next.
His physical sight becomes spiritual sight. He begins by calling Jesus “the man.” Then “a prophet.” Then, he stands up to the Pharisees with courage he didn’t know he had. And finally, when Jesus finds him again, he says the words that are at the heart of discipleship – “I do believe, Lord.”
Meanwhile, the Pharisees — who have perfect physical eyesight — become more and more spiritually blind.
These readings are chosen every year for the scrutiny’s because they speak directly to the journey we are all on – the catechumens and candidates preparing for the sacraments and our own sacramental journey’s. The scrutiny’s uncover what is dark in each of us and invites the Light of Christ into our souls.
The blind man’s story is a baptism story. He begins in darkness. He encounters Christ. He is anointed. He washes in water. He receives sight. He grows in faith and then proclaims Jesus as Lord.
Are we the same person after our baptism? We shouldn’t be because we are no longer spiritually blind; we are no longer defined by sin; and we are no longer wandering without a Shepherd.
We truly begin to exist when we enter relationship with God. The blind man, in asking Jesus for sight, is really asking for relationship. And over the course of the Gospel, we watch that relationship deepen before our eyes.
This is what the sacraments do. They open our eyes, hearts, and lives to God’s grace.
All the readings today point to one truth – God wants to help us see.
- To see ourselves with mercy.
- To see others with compassion.
- To see God’s presence in unexpected places.
- To see the world not through fear or cynicism, but through the eyes of Christ – the eyes of love.
As we continue this liturgy, I invite us to consider – where do we need God’s light right now? Is it in a relationship, a decision, how we see ourselves or maybe how we see someone who has hurt us?
Let that be our prayer this week as we continue our Lenten journey to the Easter Sacraments.



















