The Fourth Sunday in Lent – March 14, 2026

Today in our first reading, God asks Samuel a question that echoes across Scripture and across our lives: “How long will you grieve…?” Samuel is stuck… he is stuck in disappointment, stuck in what might have been, stuck in the past. And God gently nudges him forward. “Fill your horn with oil and set out.” In other words: There is more life ahead. There is more blessing ahead. There is more grace ahead.

Samuel goes to Bethlehem expecting strength, stature, and royal polish. But God interrupts his expectations with a truth we still struggle to trust: “The Lord does not see as mortals see.” God sees differently. God sees possibility where we see limitation. God sees promise where we see smallness. God sees a shepherd boy and says, “There. That’s the one.”

And that is where grateful living begins: not with what we see, but with what God sees. Gratitude grows when we trust that God is at work in places we overlook, in people we underestimate, and in moments we rush past.

Psalm 23 gives us the language of that trust. “The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not be in want.” Not because life is easy, but because God is present. God leads. God restores. God accompanies. Even in the valley of the shadow of death, the psalmist says, “You are with me.” Gratitude is not a response to perfect circumstances. Gratitude is a response to God’s presence in every circumstance.

Paul, in Ephesians, picks up this theme of seeing differently. “Once you were darkness, but now in the Lord you are light.” Not in the light—you are light. God’s grace doesn’t just illuminate our path; it transforms us into people who can illuminate the world. “Sleeper, awake!” Paul says. “Rise from the dead, and Christ will shine on you.” Gratitude wakes us up. It helps us see the world not through fear or scarcity, but through the generous light of Christ.

And then we come to the long, beautiful story in John’s Gospel of the healing of the man born blind.

The disciples want to assign blame. The neighbors want to debate identity. The Pharisees want to control the narrative. Everyone is talking about the man, but almost no one is talking to him. Everyone is seeing him through their own assumptions, their own fears, their own categories.

But Jesus sees him.

Jesus sees him the way God saw David… fully, clearly, lovingly. Jesus sees not a problem to be solved, but a person to be restored. And when the man receives his sight, he becomes the only one in the story who truly sees Jesus for who he is.

The irony is thick: the man born blind becomes the one who sees, and the people who claim perfect vision become the ones who are blind. That’s what happens when we cling to our assumptions. That’s what happens when we forget to look for God’s generosity. That’s what happens when we stop practicing gratitude.

Gratitude clears our vision.
Gratitude helps us see as God sees.
Gratitude opens our eyes to grace.

And that brings us to something you may have noticed this morning: the rose-colored chasuble and stole.

We are in the middle of Lent, a season marked by purple, a color of repentance, reflection, and preparation. But today, the Church gives us a splash of rose. Historically, this Sunday was called Laetare Sunday, from the Latin word for “rejoice.” While it means rejoice, it’s a bit more nuanced than that… more of an internal, anticipatory joy rather than outward exuberance. It is a moment of lightness in the middle of a penitential season, a reminder that even in Lent, joy is not forbidden. Joy is necessary.

The rose vestments symbolize that joy. They remind us that repentance is not about shame; it’s about returning to God’s generosity. They remind us that Lent is not a season of gloom; it’s a season of awakening. They remind us that even in the wilderness, God is leading us beside still waters and restoring our souls.

Rose is the color of softened purple, penitence touched by joy, reflection warmed by hope. It’s the Church’s way of saying: Don’t forget the goodness of God. Don’t forget the joy that awaits. Don’t forget to be grateful.

And that brings us back to our Lenten practice of grateful living.

Last week we talked about the 5‑minute gratitude journal. This week, I want to invite you to keep going. Five minutes a day. Three simple steps:

1. Name three things you’re grateful for.
Small things count. Ordinary things count. Unexpected things count.

2. Name three moments where you sensed God’s presence.
It might be subtle. It might be surprising. It might be something you only notice in hindsight.

3. Name one act of generosity – given or received.
Because generosity is gratitude in motion.

This practice doesn’t just make us thankful people. It makes us seeing people. It helps us notice the shepherd who walks beside us. It helps us trust the God who sees differently. It helps us recognize Jesus at work in the world, even when others miss him.

The man born blind didn’t just receive sight. He received insight. He saw Jesus clearly because he had experienced God’s generosity firsthand. And that is what grateful living does for us. It opens our eyes. It softens our hearts. It helps us see God’s grace in places we once overlooked.

So on this rose‑colored Sunday, may we rejoice.
May we practice gratitude.
May we learn to see as God sees.
And may we walk as children of light, trusting that Christ is shining on us, in us, and through us.

Amen.