From Darkness to Light

The Fourth Sunday in Lent

1 Samuel 16:1-13; Psalm 23; Eph. 5:1-14; John 9:1-41

The Difference Between Being Looked At and Being Truly Seen by God

Have you ever felt reduced to a grade, a résumé, or a quick impression used as a verdict? Most of us know what it is to be looked at, but there’s something profoundly different about being truly seen. There is a difference between being looked at and being seen, and to be seen—truly seen—by God, and then to begin to see with God’s sight—that is salvation.

This truth weaves through some of the most powerful stories in Scripture, revealing how God sees what we miss. God chooses what we overlook. God shepherds us through the valley. God awakens us into light.

When God Sees What We Miss: The Anointing of David

The story in 1 Samuel 16:1-13 begins with grief. Samuel, the prophet who had anointed Israel’s first king, was still mourning Saul—mourning what was supposed to be, what collapsed under fear and disobedience. And God essentially says: Fill your horn with oil. We are moving forward.

Perhaps you’re living in yesterday too—regret, old wounds, disappointments that still steer the soul. God does not shame grief, but He refuses to let grief become our forever home.

When Samuel arrives at Jesse’s house to anoint the next king, the process reveals everything about how differently God sees. Jesse’s oldest son Eliab looks like king-material. Samuel assumes. And God interrupts: “Man looks on the outward appearance, but the LORD looks on the heart” (1 Samuel 16:7).

Seven sons pass by Samuel. Each time: “Not this one.” Then comes the stinging question: Are all your sons here? Jesse’s response reveals his own blindness: There is the youngest… he’s with the sheep. The forgotten one. The ordinary one. But Samuel insists they wait for the one you left in the field.

When David finally arrives from tending sheep, Samuel anoints him, and the Spirit rushes upon him. David is consecrated long before he sits on the throne: calling comes before fulfillment, promise before possession.

How We Evaluate vs. How God Sees

This story challenges how we measure worth. We measure sparkle, charisma, competence. God trains His people to see deeper: what is this person becoming in secret? What do they do with power? Do they repent? Do they tell the truth? Do they love God’s will more than reputation?

The shepherd boy David naturally connects us to the most famous psalm about shepherding—Psalm 23. “The LORD is my shepherd; I shall not want” (Psalm 23:1) isn’t merely advice, but speaks of presence, protection, provision, and pace.

Walking Through Valleys with the Good Shepherd

Notice how the psalm shifts when difficulty comes: “Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death…” (Psalm 23:4). Not avoidance, but companionship. The psalm shifts from ‘He’ to ‘You.’ In the valley, theology becomes prayer.

Here’s what’s remarkable: “You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies” (Psalm 23:5). Not after they’re gone. In their presence. God can feed you while the threat is still real, while grief is still raw, while conflict is unresolved. 

This corrects two dangerous lies: “If God loved me, I wouldn’t be in the valley.” No—the Shepherd leads through it. And “If I’m anxious, I’m failing.” No—faith keeps walking while praying, “You are with me.”

Living as Children of Light

Paul’s words in Ephesians 5:1-14 show us what shepherded people look like: “Be imitators of God, as beloved children” (Ephesians 5:1). This isn’t about imitating religious culture. Imitate God—because you are already loved.

The transformation is complete: “You were darkness, but now you are light in the Lord” (Ephesians 5:8). Not simply ‘in darkness.’ Darkness as identity replaced by light as identity—because of our union with Christ.

When Jesus Gives Sight: The Man Born Blind

The healing story in John 9:1-41 brings these themes together powerfully. When the disciples ask about a man born blind, “Who sinned… that he was born blind?” they want suffering to be manageable. If we can assign blame, we can feel in control.

But Jesus declares, “I am the light of the world” (John 9:5). Remember: we don’t see the light; we see by the light. Jesus is the Light by which reality becomes readable.

After Jesus heals the man, religious leaders interrogate him, fixated on technicalities and missing “mercy in their midst.” But watch how the man’s understanding grows through simply telling the truth. At first, Jesus is just “the man called Jesus.” Then “He is a prophet.” Finally, when Jesus reveals himself personally, “the man moves from information to adoration: ‘Lord, I believe,’ and he worships.”

His testimony remains unshakeable: “I was blind, now I see” (John 9:25). That confession outlasts a thousand debates. It’s the kind of lived truth no cross-examination can erase.

Putting It Into Practice: Walking in the Light This Week

Let God retrain our sight. Where have we been choosing by optics—what wins approval—rather than by what is true and faithful before God?

Receive the Shepherd’s pace. Exhaustion is not proof of faithfulness. Sometimes it’s a warning light on the dashboard of the soul.

Tell the truth we know. I don’t know everything. But I know what Christ has done. Testimony often becomes the path into deeper sight.

Beware the posture of “we see.” Ignorance can be taught. Blindness that insists it has perfect sight cannot.

The invitation is simple: Christ gives sight not only ‘back then,’ but now—through His Word, through repentance and prayer, through the Church’s life. So we pray: “Lord, show us what is true. Lord, give us eyes that can be healed.”