Dear brethren,
Today our mother Church invites us to celebrate Laetare Sunday, a moment of rejoicing at the heart of Lent. We rejoice not because our Lenten journey is easy, but because God is already at work, shaping us, healing us, and leading us toward the light of Easter. Laetare Sunday reminds us that grace surpasses sin, that light overcomes darkness, and that God sees in us possibilities we do not yet perceive, for He looks not at appearances but at the heart. The Latin word Laetare means “Rejoice,” echoing the ancient antiphon: “Laetare, Jerusalem, Rejoice, O Jerusalem” (Is 66:10-11). Today’s liturgical rose‑colored vestments, and the readings full of the word Light, all whisper the same message: God is already at work in us, even before Easter dawns.
There is a famous short story that can help us enter today’s mystery. A traveller once met a blind man sitting by the road, smiling as the sun warmed his face. Curious, he asked, “How can you smile when you cannot see the beauty around you?” The blind man replied, “I cannot see the world with my eyes, but I see it with my heart. And sometimes, the heart sees more clearly than the eyes.” Today’s readings invite us to this deeper vision.
First Reading
In the first reading, Samuel is sent to anoint a new king. He looks at the strong, impressive sons of Jesse, but God interrupts him: “Man looks at appearances, but the Lord looks at the heart.” God chooses David, the youngest, the one that no one expected. God sees differently, indeed. He sees potential where we see insignificance. He sees possibilities where we see impossibilities. He sees abilities where we see disabilities. He sees grace where we see failure. He sees light where we see darkness. He sees hope where we see despair. He sees a future where we see limits. God does not see us through the lens of nationality, colour, accent, qualifications, or social status. He sees the heart. He sees what we don’t see. If only we could see as He sees! Unfortunately, most of us are not yet at this level as the following story illustrates.
A friend of mine called me recently with frustration and a tone of dismay in his voice. “Father, what is happening to the Church? Why are we going backward? How can they give us a bishop who doesn’t even have a PhD? In today’s world? With all the challenges we face?” His disappointment was real, almost painful, as if something precious to him had been shaken. I listened quietly, letting him express his confusion and hurt. For him, academic titles meant competence, credibility, and progress. He feared that without them, the Church would lose ground, lose respect, lose its ability to lead. When he finally paused, I answered him gently, not with an argument, but with the Word of God itself: “Man looks at appearances, but the Lord looks at the heart.” He fell silent. Not convinced immediately, but disarmed. Because deep down, he knew that God’s criteria are not always ours. Titles matter, yes; formation matters; competence matters. But holiness, humility, pastoral wisdom, the ability to listen, to shepherd, to love, these cannot be measured by diplomas and academic degrees. As the conversation went on, I reminded him that God often surprises us, just as He surprised Samuel when He chose David, the youngest, the least expected, the one no one would have selected based on appearances and qualifications. The man became speechless. His frustration softened. Perhaps, he didn’t get all the answers, but he ended the call with a different question in his heart: What does God see that I do not see?
Gospel
In today’s Gospel of John, Jesus encounters and heals a man blind from birth. This miracle is more than a physical cure; it is a “sign” of who Jesus is: the Light. And the healing unfolds gradually: mud on the eyes, made from a mixture of dust and saliva as a sign of creative act of the Creator; washing in the pool, a journey from confusion to clarity, and finally the moment when the man proclaims, “Lord, I believe.” Meanwhile and ironically, the Pharisees, who have perfect physical sight, grow more spiritually blind.
We see a dramatic reversal of roles: the man who starts in physical darkness ends with his eyes wide open to the truth, while the religious leaders, who claim to see clearly through the Law, end up in total darkness because they refuse to recognize God’s work. This contrast invites each of us to ask: Where am I blind? Where do I resist the light? Where do I cling to my own ideas, my own judgments, my own fears?
Second Reading
Saint Paul reminds us in the second reading that we were once darkness, but now we are light in the Lord. This means that every step we take toward Christ is a step away from the shadows that once defined us. When we allow His light to awaken what is asleep within us, everything in our lives begins to brighten and bear the fruits of goodness, justice, and truth.
Brethren, blindness takes many forms, and the most subtle is the blindness of the heart. We often do not notice it, yet it quietly shapes the way we see God, others, and even ourselves. In this season of renewal, we are invited to let the Lord open our eyes. Sometimes our sight is clouded by ignorance, especially when we stop seeking the truth and settle for our own assumptions. Sometimes our sight is dimmed by cynicism, when we expect the worst and close ourselves to the surprising ways of God’s acts. And sometimes our sight is hardened by resentment, when we cling to old hurts/wounds and refuse to let grace soften us. Many people struggle to recognize the dignity of those around them. Many carry wounds or fears that obscure their inner sight. Yet Jesus approaches each of us with gentleness. He promises us to open our eyes “so that we may see”.
Brethren, we should keep in mind that the healing of the blind man is not only a mere miracle, it is a call. Jesus touches him, speaks to him, sends him, seeks him out again, and finally reveals Himself. This shows that faith grows when we allow Christ to meet us, and we meet Him through one another in prayer, in struggle, in joy and in the hope we share. On this Laetare Sunday, the Lord calls us to step toward the light.
Let God look at us with the truth of His love, a gaze that heals shame, wounds and hidden fears. Let us ask for inner sight with the simple prayer, “Lord, let me see as You see,” so that compassion becomes our instinct, hope our lens, and mercy our way of seeing ourselves and others. Let us return to the pool of Siloam by renewing prayer, letting God’s Word guide our choices, and allowing reconciliation to cleanse what has grown dim. Let us speak with courage and echo the healed man’s confession: “I was blind, and now I see.”. And the call is urgent: we should not wait for a better moment or a clearer path. Today is the day to turn toward Christ, the Light of the world. With Him, what we see as weakness may be the very place where God wants to show His power. May we walk with Him, and our sight will be recovered. And may we take the hand of our neighbors and lead them toward the Light, Christ, so that they can also see God’s wonders in their lives, and see as He sees. Amen!
By: Jean Damascène Bimenyimana, M.Afr.