Here's Mud in Your Eye

The American historian and Librarian of Congress Daniel J. Boorstin (1914-2004) once said, "The greatest enemy of knowledge is not ignorance--it is the illusion of knowledge."

If you attend the Neocatechumenal Way's initial catechesis, you will be presented with the illusion of knowledge. You will see people--laymen, clergy, perhaps both--speak confidently and authoritatively on a wide range of topics. They are counting on your ignorance (and implicit trust) to get away with it.

If your experience is like mine, you will likely be told at some point (I was told the first night) that these catecheses--these talks that you are attending--are neither preconceived nor invented. The implication is that you are witness to a spontaneous outpouring of the Holy Spirit, delivering His Word to you through these poor, humble mouthpieces. Of course, this is an outright lie. These talks are 100% preconceived and 100% invented, down to the last pause for effect. Not only are your "catechists" working from a printed script (Catechetical Directory for Teams of Catechists, Volume 1), but also from a long (and frankly impressive) oral tradition based on repetition and memorization. Almost nothing about what they say and do is spontaneous, much less an outpouring of the Holy Spirit.

With all this in mind, now knowing you've been lied to at least once already, let's take a look at Chapter 9 of the Gospel of John. This story--the healing of the man born blind--is the Neocats' "biblical entryway" into their catechetical process. Hopefully, with just this introductory background, you can better "gird your loins with truth" (Eph 6:14) in preparation for the exegetical chicanery that awaits you.

While all of John 9 tells the story of the man born blind, it is really only the first seven verses with which we need to familiarize ourselves:

As he [Jesus] passed by, he saw a man blind from his birth. And his disciples asked him, "Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?" Jesus answered, "It was not that this man sinned, or his parents, but that the works of God might be made manifest in him. We must work the works of him who sent me, while it is day; night comes, when no one can work. As long as I am in the world, I am the light of the world." As he said this, he spat on the ground and made clay of the spittle and anointed the man's eyes with the clay, saying to him, "Go, wash in the pool of Siloam" (which means Sent). So he went and washed and came back seeing. (John 9:1-7)

In the Latin Church, this Gospel is associated with the Fourth Week of Lent. In the Novus Ordo, it is proclaimed on the Fourth Sunday of Lent (in the "Year A" cycle), and in the Traditional Latin Mass, it is proclaimed on the following Wednesday.

The Fourth Sunday of Lent is known as Laetare Sunday, or "Rejoice" Sunday. Its name comes from the introit, or opening antiphon, taken from Isaiah 66: "Rejoice with Jerusalem, and be glad for her..." Like Gaudete Sunday (the Third Sunday of Advent), it is meant to be a brighter, more celebratory day than the otherwise austere and penitential season that surrounds it (hence the option for rose-colored vestments instead of the usual violet). The readings are meant to reflect this tone, as well. "Rejoice," says Isaiah in the introit. "Once you were darkness, but now you are light in the Lord," says Paul to the Ephesians (5:8). All of God's Word is "good news," but something about this news is meant to strike us as particularly good. What is that?

John structures his Gospel around seven "signs," beginning with the miracle at Cana in Chapter 2 and ending with raising Lazarus from the dead in Chapter 11. The healing of the man born blind, here in Chapter 9, is Sign #6. "Sign of what," you might ask. John answers this explicitly later on:

Now Jesus did many other signs in the presence of his disciples, which are not written in this book; but these are written that you may believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and that believing you may have life in his name. (John 20:30-31)

This also confirms what Jesus himself says to his disciples--that the man is not blind due to any personal or inherited sinfulness, but so that the works of God might be made manifest in him.

So, on the one hand, we can see the simple miracle of a man's physical sight being restored to him. But, on the other hand, the manner of the miracle also communicates truth to us. Our Lord does nothing by accident.

Jesus spits on the ground to make clay. John's original Greek word for "clay" here is πηλὸν (pilon). This word also notably appears in the Greek Septuagint translation of Isaiah 64:8 - "O Lord, thou art our Father; we are the clay, and thou art our potter; we are the work of thy hand." Clay, formed in the "dust of the ground" (Gen 2:7), is symbolic of the creative power of Almighty God.

St. John Chrysostom preached:

For since they had heard that God made man, taking the dust of the earth, so also Christ made clay... He by taking earth, and mixing it with spittle, showed forth His hidden glory; for no small glory was it that He should be deemed the Architect of the creation. (Homily 56 on the Gospel of John)

And:

Why used He not water instead of spittle for the clay? He was about to send the man to Siloam: in order therefore that nothing might be ascribed to the fountain, but that you might learn that the power proceeding from His mouth, the same both formed and opened the man's eyes, He "spat on the ground." (Homily 57)

That you may believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and that believing you may have life in his name. Jesus, the Divine Logos, the Word of God that spoke, "Let us make man in our image" (Gen 1:26), has the power to create and restore. Like the man born blind, we are invited to say, "Lord I believe" and worship him (Jn 9:38). Now that is good news indeed!

So, what do Kiko and his "catechists" have to say about this Gospel?

Imagine that I am that blind man. I am peacefully begging for alms, without saying anything to anyone and suddenly...splat: they fill my eyes with mud and I hear a voice saying: "Go to the pool of Siloam and wash." This poor blind man would say: "Of course I'm going to wash. Don't you see that you've covered me with mud?"

...

What is the catechumenate? A time in which mud will be put in your eyes. It is Jesus Christ who does this. Because you do not know that you are blind. You don't know that you are dirty and therefore you don't want to wash. Jesus will put mud in your eyes so that you may feel uncomfortable and have to go wash in the waters of your Baptism, to wash yourself of your sins... Jesus will put mud in your eyes so that you may sense that you are a sinner, so that you may discover that you are dirty. (Catechetical Directory for Teams of Catechists, Volume 1, p. 14-15)

Now, does that sound anything like the joyful, hopeful revelation of Jesus Christ that we just discussed? Or does it sound...dirtier? Crueler, even?

One more dive into John will serve here. Jesus takes the clay and spittle and anoints the man's eyes. In the accompanying Old Testament reading for this Fourth Lenten Sunday Mass, David is chosen among Jesse's older, sturdier sons and is anointed by Samuel to eventually replace Saul as King of Israel. We are told, "the Spirit of the Lord came mightily upon David from that day forward" (1 Sam 16:13).

Kiko, perhaps in spite of himself, rightly recognizes a baptismal theme in this Gospel. In proclaiming these readings a mere two weeks before the Easter Vigil, when the catechumenate will enter the Church through the waters of Baptism, Holy Mother Church acknowledges the same themes.

However, anointing is an initiatory gesture. It was a gesture to inaugurate Israel's priests (such as Aaron and his sons in Exodus 40:15), prophets (such as Elisha in 1 Kings 19:16), and kings (such as Saul in 1 Samuel 10:1, or David in the passage mentioned above). Christ, of course, is the ultimate Priest, Prophet, and King, and "by Baptism [the faithful] share in the priesthood of Christ, in his prophetic and royal mission" (CCC 1268). Anointing is also a healing gesture (James 5:14), and a mark of respect and hospitality (Luke 7:46).

In Baptism, we are anointed to share in the priestly, prophetic, and royal mission of Christ by being joined to His Body, the Church. We are healed, being cleansed of original (and any personal) sin. And we are welcomed into the embrace of Holy Mother Church. While Christ's "anointing" of the man born blind may not explicitly address any of these things (remember, the man was not blind because he or his parents were sinners), the action is at least tangential or analogous enough to warrant its placement in the lectionary.

Christ is certainly not "putting mud in our eyes;" nor is he acting "so that we may discover that we are dirty" or to make us aware of any willfully neglected sinfulness. He does not, as my "catechist" explained on Night 2, "throw dirt, our sins, in our eyes to destroy our comfort." Nor do we (like the blind man), as this same catechist also suggested, "have to obey" in spite of ourselves.

This is not the Church's catechumenate Kiko is describing, but his own Neocatechumenate. There, you will be made to see how dirty you are. There, the dirt of your sins will be repeatedly thrown in your face and your comfort will constantly be destroyed. There, you will have to obey in spite of yourself. And you will discover all this in due course if you continue walking in the Way.

But now that you're better prepared, and you've seen the bald-faced lies and scriptural butchery that will be foisted upon you on only the first night or two, can you honestly believe that things will get better from there? Or that things will make more sense in time? Or that the Holy Spirit truly desires to speak to you in this way?

Skip the next session and stay home with some Lectio Divina instead--maybe on John 9. Your spiritual life will be better for it.

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This article was largely based on the terrific work of Chuck White. For his in-depth analysis of the Neocat corruption of John 9, St. Augustine's recognition of the blind man's catechumenate, as well as deeper dives into Kiko's catechetical directories, see the 3-part treatment of "Kiko's Mud" at The Thoughtful Catholic.