Sermon; Lent 4A; John 9:1-41

There are two times a year when I prefer to use the contemporary version of the Lord's Prayer. The first is in the season of Advent when we've been saying the traditional version for so long that changing to the new shakes us up. All of a sudden we have to pay attention to the words. It's this shaking up and paying attention that becomes symbolic for an Advent season that is also designed to shake us up and make us pay attention.

The second time is now, during the season of Lent. This is a season that asks us to acknowledge our sins, repent, forgive, examine our lives and conduct, and make a right beginning. As we do that, I think it's important to say out loud, “Forgive us our sins as we forgive those who sin against us.”

In general, though, we don't like to talk about sin – especially our own sin. For starters, we don't like to be told that our actions, or lack of actions, are sinful. Our rugged individualism ethos and myths have seeped into our psyche to such an extent that we are more apt to say, “Who are you to tell me I'm sinning?” than do the hard work of self-examination and repentance. And if we do admit our sins, we are quick to point out either that we aren't as bad as other people, or that we are much better than other people.

I may have stolen office supplies for personal use, but at least I don't beat my spouse. Or, yes, I may sin every so often, but at least I go to church every Sunday unlike some other sinners. Besides the personal aspect, there are also some religious leaders and people who will blame certain adversities on sinful behavior. You contracted cancer because you must have sinned against God. Or maybe your parents sinned and that's why you've been afflicted with some disease. Or maybe it's because of sinful behaviors that a hurricane struck a city. Sin is often used to compare and blame.

We see this in today's gospel. From the disciples asking Jesus, “Who sinned, this man or his parents that he was born blind?” to the Pharisees labeling Jesus a sinner for not observing the sabbath to the Pharisees elevating themselves for being disciples of Moses to them claiming the blind man was born “entirely in sin.” Sin is all around us. It's used to make us feel better, and it's used to control others.

In today's gospel it's the man's blindness that takes center stage. His blindness is attributed to sin. His healing is attributed to sin. His healer is labeled a sinner. And it seems that the religious leaders preferred that he remained blind and out of the way.

His blindness allowed him to be dismissed. His blindness left him on the margins. His blindness allowed leaders to focus on things they could deal with. His blindness was a convenient excuse for leaders to ignore him, claiming nothing could be done, and allow them to focus on “normal” people. Maybe this is the real sin in this story – ignoring the needs of those who aren't like us or barring them from access to God because they are different, or treating those with special needs or who are differently abled as a drain on society.

Here's a short story. I don't remember if I was working with a parish or this was a story about a parish I heard, but it goes like this:

A parish was doing some renovations and people were griping about the cost to make parts of the building ADA accessible. Someone made the comment, “Why do we have to do this? We don't have any disabled people who attend here.”

Well . . . maybe you don't have disabled or differently abled people attending because the building shuts them out. If you want people at every level of abilities, and if you want to keep people who will eventually lose abilities, then it makes sense to ensure your building gives them access.

The gospels are full of stories where Jesus heals people. It's important to note that the purpose of those healings aren't simply to make them better; the purpose is to restore the individual to fullness of body individually and communally. From the demoniacs and lepers who were segregated and barred from full participation, to the blind and deaf who were too easily dismissed and relegated to the margins of society, the purpose of the healing was to re-include them and restore them as full members of the community.

We obviously don't have Jesus walking around today healing people. We don't have anyone who can spit in the dirt, make mud, and return someone's sight. What we DO have, though, is the ability to make our place open and accessible to those whom society normally relegates to the margins.

For instance, can we, or should we, think about ramping the chancel steps so those with walkers are able to come to the communion rail? Should we think about assigning someone ready with the wheelchair to help those with mobility issues up the long walkway to the church door? Those are just a couple of thoughts that might help certain people feel seen and included as full members of our community.

Today's gospel is full of references to, and accusations about, sin. This story reminds us that institutional behaviors designed to privilege one group of people over another are just as sinful as sins we commit individually. May we have our eyes opened to see those who have been systemically marginalized, and then may we work to include them as full members of the Body of Christ.

Amen.