My favorite teacher back in seminary was Father Neal Flanagan. Neal was a Franciscan monk and like St. Francis himself, something of a free spirit. He taught me to understand the Gospel of John as drama, as a real theatrical performance played out on a stage with wonderful scenes and exciting action.

I can't read John now in any way but as a script. There are such wonderful scenes. Scenes like the blind man who now can see but no one can understand the reason why.

Characters are running back and forth across the stage trying to make sense of it all. Paragraphs and paragraphs of dialogue are played out as the religious folk dramatically debate over what this means. Arguing, disputing, pontificating, proclaiming.

Suddenly the once-blind man stands up, center stage, and shouts.

"Hey! All I know is this. I once was blind and now I see."

Cut the talk. Forget all the intellectualizing, philosophizing and theologizing.

What matters is this: I can see.

That's it. That's everything.

How much energy we waste with arguing over this and that point of religious doctrine.

Is baptism valid with only a sprinkle?

When precisely does bread and wine become flesh and blood?

Are you born again?

Is she saved?

Is he damned?

Cut the talk.

All that matters is this: all that matters is love.

End of scene.

Beginning of life.