4th Sunday of Lent Year A – Laetare Sunday 2026

While I am in the world, I am the light of the world.” ( Ga 9, 5 )

Today we encounter someone who had never seen the world. No sunrise, no colours, no faces—only darkness and the sounds of life around him. Then, Jesus comes, touches his life, and sends him to wash. So “He went and washed and received his sight.”

What must that first moment have been like?

Perhaps the first thing he saw was light—blazing, overwhelming, beautiful light. Then shapes. Faces. Maybe he looked at his own hands with astonishment. Just imagine him laughing, perhaps even crying a little, turning around in circles like a child who has just discovered the world for the first time.

Sight is such a precious gift that we rarely stop to think about it. With our eyes we see beauty: the sky after rain, a friend’s smile, the quiet dignity of an elderly face, the wonder of a child discovering something new. Our eyes guide our steps and help us recognise one another.

Yet there is another kind of sight—that of faith.

The man born blind receives physical sight, but many around him remain spiritually blind. They can see with their eyes, yet cannot recognise Jesus standing before them.

St Augustine of Hippo wrote: “Faith is to believe what you do not see; the reward of this faith is to see what you believe. For if you believe, you will understand; and if you do not believe, you will not understand.”

The blind man’s insight gradually deepens. At first he calls Jesus “the man called Jesus.” Later, “He is a prophet.” Finally he says, “Lord, I believe.” His eyes open—and so does his heart.

Emmanuel d'Alzon, our founder, said: “Our whole life must be a cry of love for Jesus Christ, a continual act of love, a gift of ourselves without reserve, so that everything in us—our thoughts, words, and actions—may proclaim Him and lead others to love Him.”

With spiritual eyes open, we begin to see Christ everywhere—in prayer, in Scripture, in the poor, and in our daily lives.

A child asked his grandmother, “Grandma, when did you first see God?” Smiling she replied, “Oh my dear, I didn’t see God with my eyes. I saw God the day I realised how much God loved me.” The boy thought about this and said, “So… God is a bit like Wi-Fi then—you can’t see God, but everything works better when you’re connected!”

True sight includes the light of Christ shining in our hearts.

Speaking of love, we think of our Mothers who first opened our eyes to the goodness of life. They watched over us when we were small, wiped our tears away, sacrificed sleep, comfort, and sometimes their own dreams to help us grow. Long before we could recognise it, their love was already there—quiet, faithful, constant.

So... we thank God for the gift of sight, the light of faith, and for our mothers whose love helped us see the world with joy. May Christ always be our light—and may we never stop rejoicing in it.

By Fr. Thomas O'Brien a.a.