"And Open Our Eyes to Behold Love's Face"
© Jan Richardson
© Jan Richardson
There
was a man born blind.
On
that point, everyone seems to have been in agreement.
He had
become a part of the cultural scenery, so familiar that people forgot to look
at him.
As a
beggar he received food; but apparently he received little actual attention.
He was
born blind.
Everybody
knew that.
And
that was how he was to be classified for life.
He had
been neatly placed in the "blind and helpless" category, so that
folks were free to go about other tasks in life.
Even
today, society and daily culture depend upon people first being categorized
and, then, staying in their place.
But
all this changed on the day that Jesus walked by.
Everybody
still agreed that the beggar who used to roam their streets was born blind‑there
was a man born blind!‑but no one could get straight exactly what had happened
to him.
The
story of this dramatic event is one of the funniest stories in scripture, told
in the entire ninth chapter of John.
The
public investigation of how this blind man became able to see sounds like an
early story line for the Keystone Cops.
Here
is how it goes:
As
Jesus walked by one day, he met a man born blind.
Immediately,
this man born blind became for the disciples an object lesson.
They
treated him, not as a man, but as an example, or a proof text, for their own
theology. "Rabbi," they ask, "who sinned‑this man or his parents‑that
he was born blind?"
Notice
how attention is so quickly diverted from the need at hand, which is the man
himself, to a theological or philosophical argument.
We do
the same maneuver today.
In the
face of human need, many of us prefer to use that need to shore up our own
belief system or our own political agenda.
We see
a person in need and we systematize.
That
person is homeless; he must be too lazy to work.
On
food stamps; must be spending money on booze
How
can my belief system, or morality system, account for this phenomenon?
The
maneuver is inevitable for most of us.
We
have belief systems for good reasons.
But if
we forget the actual person standing right in front of us, then our belief
system‑and moral system‑is useless no matter what our persuasion is.
"Who
caused this to happen," we ask, "this man or his parents?
Who is
to blame here?
Why is
there blindness in the world?
Why is
there poverty, illness, or behavior which out and out does not match mine?
Who is
to blame, nature or nurture‑this man or his parents?"
Jesus,
as he so often does, answers with a third option, one that the questioners did
not think of. Jesus said,
"Neither
this man sinned, nor his parents.
This
man is here, before us blind, so that the marvelous works of God can be
shown."
What
an amazing way to interpret human need or suffering!
When
Jesus sees someone in need, he does not use that person's plight to develop a
political or moral agenda.
Jesus
sees opportunity, a chance to recognize God's work.
God's
work is revealed, not in moral statement, but in an act of mercy, in an act
which pays close attention to the need itself.
But,
finally, at the end of the story, Jesus finds the healed man again.
Now
comes the time for interpretation and reflection.
The
act of healing has occurred.
Jesus
asks, "Do you believe in the Son of Man?"
"Who
is he?" responds the healed man, just as honestly as he always has.
"I
who speak to you am he," Jesus responds.
And
the healed man proclaims, "Lord, I believe."
With
that proclamation, the healing is indeed complete.
The
man born blind sees not only the world around him, with utter and complete
honesty.
The
man born blind now also sees Jesus himself, the Lord of that world, who can
bring clarity even out of the mud made from human spit.
Our
scattered speculations, emerging as they do only from a need to defend our own
agendas, are only as clear as mud in the eyes of God.
As
long as we seek only to fit the acts of God into our human picture, we are
blind, unable even to comprehend what God may have for us in the future.
At the
end of the ninth chapter of John, some Pharisees begin to see.
The
evidence of that sight is their own questioning.
They
question whether they can see at all.
They
ask Jesus, "Surely we are not blind, are we?"
And Jesus'
response is sharp and precise:
"If
you say, 'We see,'" Jesus says, "then your sin remains."
Be
careful, then, whenever we say, "We see."
Our
human speculation, as fun and provocative as it may be, can never comprehend
the amazing power of God.
We can
never enclose the marvelous presence of God.
God
will burst the boundaries and walls of our personal agendas with new light.
That
light is Jesus, the Lord, the Light of the World, who shines a new light in our
lives.
Jesus
does that by focusing not on the reasons for illness, not on the philosophical
justifications of reality, but by focusing on human need.
There
are people around us whose needs are so familiar to us that we now ignore them.
They
were born blind, we say, and that is that.
Jesus,
however, refuses to walk right by them, just as Jesus refuses to walk right by
each one of us.
Jesus
wants to touch each one of us with sight.
And
every person‑blind or seeing, Pharisee or disciple‑is an opportunity for Jesus.
Each
of us is an opportunity for God to reveal light in utter and elegant
simplicity.
Let
Jesus touch our eyes today; and we will see the Light of the World
No comments:
Post a Comment
Add