4th Sunday of Lent – Year C; The Second Scrutiny
1 Samuel 16:1b, 6-7, 10-13a; Psalm 23:1-3a, 3b-4, 5, 6; Ephesians 5:8-14; selections from John 9:1-41
I was pleased when Fr. Bob asked me to give the homily during this,
the Second Scrutiny of the Elect,
our brothers and sisters here who are to be baptized at the Easter Vigil.
I’ve always loved a good scrutiny.
A nice thorough examination of a small number of people, conducted in public,
with baptism, the gateway to salvation, hanging in the balance.
The stakes could not possibly be higher.
And thus, the questions, which I was planning to ask in a Jeopardy style format,
were to have an elevated degree of difficulty.
I think we all would have enjoyed that.
But last week, during the First Scrutiny, Fr. Bob thwarted my plans by pointing out that
the scrutinies are intended for the Elect to examine themselves,
to discover their weaknesses, their strengths, and to bring all of that to Christ,
“who is the way, the truth, and the life of the Elect” (RCIA, §25, no.1).
Where is the fun in that?
The church, as you may know, gives special scriptural readings
for each of the three scrutinies.
So what we just heard from the ambo over the last several minutes
was the only time these readings were proclaimed here at St. Ignatius this weekend.
What, Celsi, Andrew, Kristen, and Jed,
does the church want to say to you today as you examine yourselves?
And because these scrutinies are done in public, in the hearing of the whole assembly,
what message does the church want to deliver to the rest of us,
both as we accompany the Elect
in their journeys to baptism,
and as we continue on our own journeys from baptism?
I think it is this: the Christian life makes us see differently.
Now this “makes us” is not a prescriptive finger-wagging, demanding,
“You should see things differently now that you are baptized.”
It is descriptive:
if the Christian cultivates the life that she begins at baptism,
if she lets God strengthen that life through the church,
then she simply will see differently.
Her eyes will become like those of Samuel,
who sets out to find among Jesse’s sons
the one whom YHWH wishes to anoint king.
Seven sons come; seven sons go; of them all, Samuel says,
“The LORD has not chosen any of these” (1 Samuel 16:10).
No, YHWH chose the youngest, the one tending the sheep,
the one whom Jesse did not even think to call,
the one whom Jesse simply did not see.
But our God sees those whom others overlook.
The Christian’s eyes should see similarly.
Her eyes will become like those of Paul, who calls the Ephesians
“light in the Lord” and “children of the light” (Ephesians 5:8),
when, earlier in his life,
he “breathed murderous threats against the disciples of the Lord” (Acts 9:1).
When everyone else saw in Saul a dangerous persecutor,
Christ saw “a chosen instrument,” one who would
“carry [his] name before Gentiles, kings, and Israelites” (Acts 9:15).
Our God sees the good in everyone.
The Christian’s eyes should see similarly.
Her eyes will become like those of the blind man in today’s gospel, who
sees past what his parents, neighbors, and the Pharisees say,
and recognizes Jesus for who he really is,
confessing, “I do believe, Lord” (John 8:38).
This, of course, is the same confession that you will make at your baptism,
the confession made by us or for us at our baptisms.
With the man born blind, we recognize that our God is one who sees those in great need,
and acts upon that vision.
The Christian’s hands should act likewise; the Christian’s eyes should see similarly.
But how do we see like Samuel, like Paul, and like the man born blind?
How do we cultivate the life we begin at baptism?
How do we let God strengthen that life through a church
that has been appearing on the front pages of newspapers every day
for nearly a month now,
and usually not for desirable reasons?
For you, Celsi, Andrew, Kristen, and Jed,
the answer lies in what you will do in just a few moments:
you will leave here
to ponder the Word of God,
to talk about how that Word has meaning in your lives,
to hunger for the Eucharist, for communion, and
to long to be ever more a part of this community, this church.
We ask you to do these things not to place you in some sort of ecclesial sandbox
while the rest of us engage in the real work of being grown-up Christians,
but because pondering the Word of God
talking about how that Word has meaning in your lives,
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hungering for the Eucharist, and
longing to be ever more a part of the church,
forms the foundation of every Christian life,
a foundation that requires constant renewing.
In this, we look to you not as our students, as our catechumens,
but as our teachers, our catechists,
hopeful that your example,
your dedication to Christ,
will enkindle in us the same fire of love.
For the rest of us,
how do we bathe again in the waters of baptism,
as if they were the Pool of Siloam,
giving us new sight, new life?
How do we do that in a church that is, yet needs to be evermore
one, holy, catholic, and apostolic?
Two answers come to mind, and, believe it or not, both of them involve seeing.
First, look at the Elect.
They are here;
they could be anywhere;
but they gather here tonight before you and before me,
ready to say yes to Christ and to baptism;
to say yes to the church,
to what it is, and what it is yet to be.
Second, look at yourselves.
Yes, immerse yourself in this Second Scrutiny,
not through questions asked in a Jeopardy style format,
but by engaging the most significant question of all,
the one posed by the Pharisees to the man born blind:
“What do you have to say about him,” about Jesus,
“since he opened your eyes” (John 9:17)?
Opening eyes is tricky business;
you can never quite be sure what you are going to see.
What do you see?
Look carefully because the Christian life makes us see differently.
If the Christian cultivates the life that she begins at baptism,
if she lets God strengthen that life through the church,
then she simply will see differently.
And seeing differently,
at least according to Samuel, Paul, and the man born blind,
can change everything.
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