Do you know that the greatest enemy of true faith is not doubt or skepticism? Surprisingly, it is obstinate legalism. Many people assume they are solid believers simply because they regularly attend Mass, say the prayers, and follow the rituals, commandments, and rules. But the goal of faith is not mere compliance, but our spiritual transformation and growth in the love of God and neighbor. Today’s Gospel reading illustrates this with a story (John 9:1-41).

Jesus meets a man who has been blind since birth. He has never seen a sunrise, never seen his parents’ faces, never seen colors, trees, or even his own reflection. His whole life has been engulfed in darkness. But Jesus sees him and restores his sight on a Sabbath day.

Now, if this happened today, newspapers would headline the story. There would be blogs, interviews, documentaries, and a Netflix special. Such a miracle would naturally provoke gratitude, wonder, and praise. But the Gospel tells us that instead of rejoicing, the Pharisees are angry and resentful. They consider the miracle a violation of the Sabbath rule that no work should be done on that day. They argue that what Jesus did was “work,” and this led them to pompously declare, “This man is not from God, for he does not keep the Sabbath” (John 9:16).

The irony is striking. The Pharisees’ legalistic attitude exaggerates a technical infraction of the law, trivializing the fact that a blind man had suddenly received his sight. Their attention is fixed on the rule that was broken rather than on the miracle that Jesus performed. His words in another Gospel passage must have been directed to them: “These people honor me with their lips, but their hearts are far from me” (Matthew 15:8).

As a devout Jew, Jesus respects and observes the Sabbath. The Sabbath is meant to be a sacred time for rest, worship, and gratitude to God. What Jesus opposes is the Pharisees’ disordered sense of priorities. Their very rigid way of observing the Sabbath became an excuse for ignoring human suffering. This must have prompted Him to say on another occasion: “Woe to you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! You have neglected the weightier matters of the law: justice and mercy and faith. These you ought to have practiced without neglecting the others” (Matthew 23:23).

In sharp contrast to the Pharisees’ voluntary blindness, the healed man gives this simple but powerful testimony: “One thing I do know: I was blind, but now I see” (John 9:25). His words are direct and sincere. His healing has opened not only his eyes but also his faith.

Even today, this Gospel episode remains deeply relevant, especially in other areas of life where we make judgments about good and evil, justice and injustice, truth and falsehood. We have become more respectful and sensitive to the feelings of others, but the fear of offending becomes more important than the pursuit of truth and moral responsibility. It is noticeable that much of today’s public discourse on gender, politics, sex, race, and other contentious issues is dominated by a legalistic emphasis on political correctness.

On social media, a person may be unjust or dishonest yet still gain a large following as long as they are politically correct. Conversely, someone who raises legitimate moral questions but uses language considered insensitive or unfashionable may be attacked, shamed, or cancelled. As a result, fear of social condemnation discourages people from expressing their views out of fear of being misunderstood or criticized. Honest dialogue and thoughtful debate seldom flourish in an atmosphere of intimidation and enforced conformity.

More troubling still, excessive attention to political correctness can foster a culture of moral relativism. The standard of right and wrong is gradually reduced to a single rule: “never offend others’ feelings.” When society devotes enormous energy to regulating language, labels, and pronouns while ignoring deeper moral failures such as corruption, injustice, and exploitation, we become like the Pharisees, who were so concerned about religious correctness that they lost sight of the deeper demands of faith.