See the Difference: Light & Sight from God

This is a manuscript of the sermon I preached on March 15, 2026 (Fourth Sunday of Lent) at Ebenezer and Black Creek. The scripture lessons for this are: 1 Samuel 16:1–13, Psalm 23, Ephesians 5:8–14, and John 9:1–41.

As we move deeper into the season of Lent, the focus shifts from the internal discipline of the wilderness toward a profound revelation of the character of Christ. This sermon weaves together the anointing of David, the guidance of the Good Shepherd, Paul’s call to live as children of light, and the healing of the man born blind. We see how God’s vision redefines our own reality and our own way of seeing God, ourselves, and others. The intent is to move the listener from a surface-level perception of the world toward an “anointed” vision that recognizes the image of God in all people, particularly those whom society—and our own prejudices—would prefer to overlook.

Introduction: The 40-Day Journey Toward Clarity

I was talking to someone recently during an Emmaus weekend, and he looked at me and said, “Lent is just too long.” When I asked him what he meant, he argued that we could surely get the spiritual point across in two or three weeks. We don’t really need this whole season, do we? It is a tempting thought. We live in a world that prizes speed and efficiency, yet there is a sacred necessity in these forty days.

This duration is a deliberate echo of our history. We spend forty days in Lent to remember the forty years Israel wandered in the wilderness, testing God at every turn. We mark these days because, following his baptism, the Holy Spirit led Jesus into the wilderness to be tried and tempted for forty days. Where Israel failed their tests, Jesus passed every single one, reclaiming the wilderness experience for God’s purposes.

Lent is not a duration to be endured; it is a “deliberate journey” that requires us to slow down. It is an invitation to move beyond our prejudices, our expectations, and those hidden attitudes we aren’t even aware we carry. The question anchoring our scriptures this week is simple yet demanding: What does it mean to see as God sees? Does seeing with the eyes God has given us actually make a difference in how we navigate the world? We begin our search for an answer in the house of Jesse in Bethlehem, where a prophet is forced to confront the limits of human vision.

Beyond the Outward Appearance: God’s Search for the Heart

In 1 Samuel 16, the prophet Samuel is sent on a path that is, quite frankly, treasonous. God has rejected Saul, and while Saul still sits on the throne, Samuel is commanded to go to Bethlehem to anoint a new king. Samuel is understandably terrified; he knows that if Saul catches wind of this, it means death for the prophet and likely for Jesse’s entire family. To protect him, God suggests a “subterfuge”—a cover story involving a heifer and a sacrifice.

When Samuel arrives in Bethlehem and begins to review the sons of Jesse, the scene resembles a modern-day beauty pageant. Each candidate is paraded before the judge. First comes Eliab, the eldest. Samuel looks at him and sees a tall, strong, strapping young man—a quintessential leader for both peace and war. Samuel thinks, “Surely this is the lord’s anointed.” But God stops him mid-thought. He tells Samuel that he does not see the way mortals see; humans look at the outward appearance, but he looks upon the heart.

One by one, seven sons are presented and rejected. We are told they even get down to the “seventh son,” and still, God says, “Not this one.” The delay is significant. Samuel has to ask if there are any others, only to find the youngest is out in the fields. They have to stand and wait—perhaps for fifteen minutes, perhaps for two hours, or longer—for the shepherd boy to be brought in. David is chosen not for his muscular stature, but because God saw his heart and his love for the Lord.

This divine correction hits close to home. I must confess that, despite my desire to grow in holiness, I still catch myself judging people based on the most superficial “performance standards.” Jo Anne can tell you—I’ll be watching true crime shows and find myself judging people because of their accents, their social status, or the way they misuse pronouns and grammar.

But this isn’t just a quirk; it’s a spiritual malady. When we judge based on the “outward appearance” of grammar or dress, we inevitably begin to judge the poor for their poverty, the sick for their lack of healthcare, and the hungry for their need. We create excuses to look down on “the least of these.” Yet Jesus is clear: whenever we neglect the hungry, the thirsty, or the stranger, we are neglecting him. To see as God sees is to look past the surface and recognize that every person is an object of his love and grace.

The Shepherd’s Light: Navigating the Dark Valleys

It is significant that we respond to David’s anointing with Psalm 23. Written by a man who was himself a shepherd, this text carries the weight of lived experience. Many of us know the King James Version so well that we can recite it by heart, but that familiarity can be a barrier. We risk hearing the words without truly “hearing” the message. We treat it as a comfort for the valley of death, but it is guidance for the valley of life.

God’s guidance is gentle, steady, and comforting. He does not always illuminate the entire horizon or show us the destination miles away. Instead, he leads us in “right paths,” providing just enough light for the next step. Even in the darkest valleys, the light of the shepherd ensures we do not walk alone. We must learn to trust his light even when the whole path is obscured. This external guidance leads us to a deeper truth about our own internal state—a truth Paul lays bare in his letter to the Ephesians.

From Darkness to Light: The Transformation of the Self

In Ephesians 5:8–14, Paul makes a staggering distinction regarding our identity. He doesn’t say we were merely walking in the darkness, as if it were a bad neighborhood we accidentally entered. He says that we were darkness. This darkness was our very state of being.

To understand the change required, consider an unlit candle. That candle cannot say to itself, “Light me up,” and suddenly catch fire. It requires an external act of grace; someone else must light that candle. It is God who “lights us up” through Christ.

The “So What?” of this transformation is that light is not merely something we receive for our own comfort; it is something we are called to be. Jesus told the crowds—people from every walk of life, male and female, old and young, slaves and free—”You are the light of the world.” We are called to reflect the light of Christ into the lives of the people we might otherwise mistreat, look down upon, or ignore. Our internal transformation must eventually change how we treat others, even when that light provokes the world’s blindness.

The Extraordinary Healing: Physical Sight vs. Spiritual Vision

The narrative in John 9 presents Jesus healing a man born blind through a method that is intentionally provocative. By spitting on the ground, making mud, and rubbing it on the man’s eyes, Jesus is performing a deliberately physical act of healing. He could have healed the man from a distance with a word, as he did for the centurion’s servant. Instead, he chooses a physical, “in your face” method specifically because it is the Sabbath.

Jesus is inviting a confrontation with the Pharisees to expose a specific kind of religious blindness. He justifies his actions with the logic he used elsewhere: the Sabbath was made for us, not us for the Sabbath. If you would pull an ox out of a ditch on the Sabbath, why would you not heal someone in need of healing?

A sharp contrast emerges here. The man born blind receives his physical sight immediately, but his spiritual vision grows gradually through questions, challenges, and eventually, the pain of rejection. He is cast out of the synagogue, yet through that hardship, he finally sees Jesus for who he is. Conversely, the Pharisees in today’s story claim to see perfectly, but they are blinded by their legalism and rigid standards. They cannot see the work of God because it doesn’t fit their rules.

Spiritual growth often costs us something. It might mean facing the world’s rejection or having our comfortable legalisms dismantled. But God uses those difficult times to help us see the world not through the lens of “outward appearance,” but through the lens of grace.

Conclusion: Seeing the Difference

When we bring these four scriptures together, a cohesive picture of divine vision emerges. We learn that God sees the heart when we see only the surface; the Shepherd’s light guides us through valleys we cannot navigate alone; Christ’s grace awakens us from the darkness we once were; and true spiritual vision is a journey that often requires us to face the world’s rejection to find the Lord’s truth.

Lent is the season to ask God to heal our blindness and teach us to see as he sees. As you reflect on this week’s journey, consider these questions:

• Where do you need Christ to open your eyes—about yourself, someone else, or a situation in your life?
• What areas of darkness or confusion in your life need the healing of Christ’s light?
• How might you more intentionally “live as a child of light” this week in your home, your workplace, and your community?

Only when we allow Christ to reveal the truth about ourselves, others, and God, can we truly “see the difference” that grace makes.

+ In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

Let us pray…
Gracious God, we thank you for the light of your word. Help us not only to hear but to live what you’ve spoken. Lead us in paths of righteousness and empower us to reflect Christ’s love in all we do. Strengthen us now to walk in your ways. Where we are weak, give us courage. Where we are blind, give us sight. Where we are in darkness, give us light. Where we are hesitant, give us faith. Let your Spirit guide us as we follow Christ into the world. Amen.

Hymn of Response Hymn 378: “Amazing Grace” “I once was lost, but now I’m found; Was blind, but now I see.”