Fourth Sunday in Lent Yr A March 19 2023

Marketplace in Jerusalem

Fourth Sunday in Lent Yr A March 19 2023

1 Samuel 16:1-13, Ephesians 5:8-14, John 9:1-41, Psalm 23

 

Imagine yourself as one of the disciples, walking down the street and into the marketplace with Jesus. It’s a noisy, hot and busy place, everyone gathers, does business, sits in the shade drinking the original chai, that is tea, black and strong. Actually, that’s everyone with status and power. But the marketplace is also the place where the poor, the crippled, the blind, go to beg. 

 

Jesus sees a blind man, and stops. Rather than giving thanks for the wonder of the day, the first thing out of the mouth of the disciple who asked is, Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind? And Jesus’ answer is that this man’s blindness is not due to his parents’ sin or his own sin. In fact, to Jesus, this is not about sin at all. Many people of Jesus’ time thought that a physical ailment was because of your own sin or the sin of your parent’s. But for Jesus it’s not about sin at all; it’s about something else entirely. 

 

Jesus heals this blind man. So here is a man who has just had his sight restored, truly a miracle, and all the disciples can talk about is whether this man is the man who used to sit and beg. They really can’t quite place him, even after he says who he is, even after all the years they’ve probably walked by him in the marketplace. They want to take him to his parents’ house so that his parents can identify him, and then his parents don’t seem to be overjoyed at the miracle either, they don’t want much to do with their son, to do so risks being thrown out of their synagogue. 

 

Eventually the conversation turns to who the man is who healed the blind man, and the formerly blind man says, “Here is an astonishing thing! You do not know where he comes from, and yet he opened my eyes.” It is an astonishing thing that they don’t know who Jesus is; and, that Jesus healed this man who they all know was blind. They just don’t believe him. 

 

I think this is a story about who is really blind; it is a story about seeing and not seeing. Jesus saw a man blind from birth. The disciples looked right through the blind man, they had seen him sitting in the same place for years, but had never really seen him. When Jesus healed the blind man, the blind man saw Jesus for who he really is, the One who is from God. The Pharisees could neither see the blind man, nor could they see that the one who healed the blind man is the One who is from God. The blind man is the one who sees, the disciples and the Pharisees are the ones who are blind.

 

What is it that we are not seeing? What is it that makes us blind? All of us are born blind in one way or another. Some of us have blindness of body: a crippling disease, cancer, diabetes, or bad bones. Some of us have blindness of heart, and that is a terrible blindness. The blind of heart can’t love another beyond a superficial level and usually can’t even love themselves. The blind of heart often live lives corroded with addictions to material things, possessions, and work, to cover up the empty hole. And worst of all is blindness of the soul, which wraps all the rest of life in gloomy darkness.

 

We have our screens in front of our faces much of the time. Our phones, our tablets, our laptops. Are we blind to the people in our lives? Do we ever say to ourselves, “I just can’t see my way through this.”

 

Or maybe we are blind to our own self-indulgence. The messages we constantly get are messages of possession and consumption. Competition for our dollars spurs services to charge millions of dollars for seconds of advertising time, advertising that forms us into people who believe that the aim of our life is to acquire more, to have bigger, better, newer.

 

Or maybe we are blind to our own pessimism. This culture of fear we live in has a tendency to take our hope away. Sometimes it is difficult to see who we really are, people who are claimed and marked by God, delight of God’s life. Perhaps we are blind to the pain of a neighbor’s sorrow, or the loneliness of a child, or the needs of a spouse. Perhaps we are blind to the other who is different, whose life seems so foreign to our own, that we just don’t understand. Sometimes we are so wrapped up in making a living, pursuing the good life, or running from our fears that we just don’t see. 

 

Jesus notices our blindness. Jesus sees. Jesus invites us to see. Jesus invites us to see with our very blind eyes, with our wounds and brokenness. Jesus uses our weaknesses as grace. Today we have this gift of seeing each other in really new ways. Seeing both need and generosity.

 

I wonder if we are being called to be healed of our own blindness, As we prepare for celebrating the life, death and resurrection of Jesus in the bread broken for us, as we celebrate that through Jesus we come to see others, all creation, and ourselves as wonderful gifts and people who belong to God. This is the Good News that shines brightly through our blindness. The Good News that we are God’s beloved, our identity rests in Jesus. Jesus has offered us a new view of life, death and resurrection. We have been called and claimed, but not because of distinctions, achievements, family lineage, or personal attractiveness, not because God sees us as any more beautiful or deserving as anyone else. God’s love is blind to such plastic categories. 

 

We have been called and claimed despite our tendency to blindness. We have been called and claimed even though we trip over those we cannot see. We have been called and claimed despite looking directly at someone, and not seeing who they are, their pain and suffering, or their joy. 

 

But, in this new view of life, we recognize that life, death and resurrection mean that we must really look at people, and that we take a new look at ourselves. It takes time to see clearly, and we must be patient in our recovery. Our vision is changed in these days. 

 

When we see with the healed eyes that Jesus gives us, we will recognize that each and every one of us is a wonderful creation of God. When we look into the eyes of our neighbor, we may see a person who is hurting and lonely just like us; and we may see a person who is blessed and joyful, just like us. When we look into the eyes of the one who we think is wrong, we may recognize a person who has come to their convictions by way of hurt and sorrow, just like us. When we look into the eyes of the one we hate, we will recognize someone who God loves, just like us. 

 

And when someone looks into your eyes, do they recognize who you truly are, a new creation, a person healed and transformed through love by God? Someone who belongs to God, and whose identity is in Jesus? Can they see your life, can they see your struggle, can they see your sadness, can they see your joy, can they see your integrity, do they recognize you, washed in the waters of baptism, clean and pure, a reflection of the creator God.

 

Do they see one whose life, right now, attests to Jesus, the light of the world? Do they see that you love Jesus? Do they see that you follow Jesus? When someone looks into your eyes, do they recognize mercy, compassion, justice, forgiveness, healing?

 

In what ways, during the rest of this Lent, can you open your eyes to Jesus? In what ways, during the rest of this Lent, may you be healed of your blindness?

 

Lord God, heal our vision, so that we may see you more clearly, right here, right now. Amen.

 

Fourth Sunday in Lent Yr A March 22 2020

video
Fourth Sunday in Lent Yr A March 22 2020, second week of confinement due to COVID-19

1 Samuel 16:1-13, Ephesians 5:8-14, John 9:1-41, Psalm 23

Imagine yourself as one of the disciples, walking down the street and into the marketplace with Jesus. It’s a noisy, hot and busy place, everyone gathers, does business, sits in the shade drinking the original chai, that is tea, black and strong. Actually, that’s everyone with status and power. But the marketplace is also the place where the poor, the crippled, the blind, go to beg. Jesus saw a blind man, and stops. Rather than giving thanks for the miracle of sight, the first thing out of the mouth of the disciple who asked is, Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind? And Jesus’ answer is that this man’s blindness is not due to his parents’ sin or his own sin. In fact, to Jesus, this is not about sin at all. Many people of Jesus’ time thought that a physical ailment was do to you sinning or inheriting your parents’ sin. But for Jesus it’s not really about sin at all; it’s about sight and seeing.

Jesus heals this blind man. Here is a man who has just had his sight restored, truly a miracle, and all the disciples can talk about is whether this man is the man who used to sit and beg. They really can’t quite place him, even after he says who he is, even after all the years they’ve probably walked by him in the marketplace. They want to take him to his parents’ house so that his parents can identify him, and then his parents don’t seem to be overjoyed at the miracle either, it seems they don’t want much to do with their son. 

Eventually the conversation turns to who the man is who healed the blind man, and the blind man says, “Here is an astonishing thing! You do not know where he comes from, and yet he opened my eyes.” It is an astonishing thing that they don’t know who Jesus is; and, that Jesus healed this man who they all know was blind. They just don’t believe him. 

I think this is a story about who is really blind; it is a story about seeing and not seeing. Jesus saw a man blind from birth. The disciples looked right through the blind man, they had seen him sitting in the same place for years, but had never seen him. When Jesus healed the blind man, the blind man saw Jesus for who he really is, the One who is from God. The Pharisees could neither see the blind man, nor could they see that the one who healed the blind man is the One who is from God. The blind man is the one who sees, the disciples and the Pharisees are the ones who are blind.

What is it we are blinded by? What is it that is right in front of us that we don’t see? All of us are born blind in one way or another. Some of us have blindness of body: a crippling disease, cancer, diabetes, or bad bones. Some of us have blindness of heart, and that is a terrible blindness. The blind of heart can’t love another beyond a superficial level and usually can’t even love themselves. The blind of heart often live lives corroded with addictions to material things, possessions, and work, to cover up the empty hole. And worst of all is blindness of the soul, which wraps all the rest of life in gloomy darkness.

Or maybe we are blind to our own self-indulgence. The messages we constantly get are messages of possession of things and people, and consuming things, and yes people. Competition for our dollars spurs networks to charge millions of dollars for seconds of advertising time, advertising that forms us into people who believe that the aim of our life is to acquire more, to have bigger, better, newer.

Or maybe we are blind to our own pessimism. This culture of fear we live in has a tendency to take our hope away. Sometimes it is difficult to see who we really are, people who are claimed and marked by God, delight of God’s life. Perhaps we are blind to the pain of a neighbor’s sorrow, or the loneliness of a child, or the needs of a spouse. Perhaps we are blind to the other who is different, whose life seems so foreign to our own, that we just don’t understand. Sometimes we are so wrapped up in making a living, pursuing the good life, or running from our fears that we just don’t see. 

And now we are living in this very peculiar time of blindness, we are encouraged not to see each other, not to be with each other so that we may contain this disease that spreads so rapidly. Because we cannot be with each other we yearn to really see each other. I wonder if not being in one another’s presence today, will improve our ability to really see each other when we are finally able to be present to one?

But Jesus notices our blindness. Jesus sees. Jesus invites us to see. Jesus invites us to see with our very blind eyes, with our wounds and brokenness. Jesus uses our weaknesses as grace. Today we have this gift of seeing each other in really new ways. Seeing both need and generosity. Seeing each other through the gift of technology.

I wonder if we are being called to be healed of our own blindness, and we prepare for celebrating the life, death and resurrection of Jesus in the bread broken for us, and we celebrate that through Jesus we come to see others, all creation, and ourselves as wonderful gifts. This is the Good News that shines brightly through our blindness. The Good News that Love wins. Jesus has offered us a new view of life, death and resurrection. We have been called and claimed, but not because of distinctions, achievements, family lineage, or personal attractiveness, not because God sees us as any more beautiful or deserving as anyone else. God’s love is blind to such plastic categories. 

We have been called and claimed despite our tendency to blindness. We have been called and claimed even though we trip over those we cannot see. We have been called and claimed despite looking directly at someone, and not seeing who they are, their pain and suffering, or their joy. 

But, in this new view of life, we recognize that life, death and resurrection mean that we must look at people in the eye, and that we take a new look at ourselves. It takes time to see clearly, and we must be patient in our recovery.

Our vision is changed in these days. We see one another through our screens and our windows. Can we see that each and every one of us is a wonderful creation of God. Can we see a person who is hurting and lonely just like us; and blessed and joyful, just like us. In this peculiar time when we are apart from one another, when our connections are through Facebook live-streaming, and zoom, can we see one another as blessed children of God? We are called to connect in new ways, and the stories we are seeing in our news feeds are stories of healing, music in Italy, pollution lifting in Japan, the waters of Venice becoming clean.

It will be some time when we populate these pews again, but remember, this building I am in today is not the church. The church is you, all of you out there, seeing with the eyes of kindness and mercy the need of your neighbor. This feels a lot like loss, loss of mobility, loss of going wherever we want whenever we want, loss of being together. And yet, maybe it’s not so much a loss, but it’s a gift of sight. Let us see one another, really see one another. Let is be so.

John 10:1-10, First week of DMin

On hot summer nights, when every kid in the entire neighborhood was out playing kick the can, my mom would yell out the back door, Kathy! and I’d come running. I heard my mother’s voice, and recognized that I wanted to come running into her wide and wonderful and protective embrace. Jesus is like that in this passage we have from John. Jesus calls our names, and we come a runnin. And Jesus is not just holding the door open for us, but Jesus is the door through which we find love and life. 

We’ve just heard the story about the man born blind, how long was he blind? Blind from birth, a long, long, time. The man, blind from birth, hears the voice of Jesus, recognizes who Jesus is, and is healed. Jesus asks the man who was formerly blind, “Do you believe in the Son of Man?” And the no longer blind man answers, “And who is he, sir?” Jesus responds, “You have seen him, and the one speaking to you is he.” The formerly blind man proclaims, “Lord, I believe.”

Lord, I believe. This man, blind from birth, and no longer blind, has a whole new life, he can see, the world before him and around him is opened up, the landscape of his life is completely changed. No longer does he sit on the margins, he can see, no longer does he beg, he can see. His life is completely transformed, this is new life indeed.

And immediately we hear another story, really a continuing story, that the abundant life the no longer blind man received, is available to us as well.

Jesus the shepherd, calling my name, calling your name. What is that like, hearing Jesus, the shepherd calling our names? How do we recognize that voice? Kathy, I love you, come to me, let me embrace you, let me give you all you need, let me fill that hole in your heart with life, with love. Come, come with me, walk with me into this amazing place, run into my arms, into my embrace, this place of love, this place of life.

I am the door, come through this door, here is a place of protection, of nurture, of sustenance, this is a place created for you. And when our eyes are opened, when we hear and recognize the voice of the one who creates us, and comes to be with us, and loves us, we run through that door.

And what’s more, is that Jesus does this again, and again, Jesus calls his followers by name, but not just you and me, Lazarus as well. You remember, Lazarus had been dead for four days. Jesus arrived at the tomb of his friend, and Jesus wept, and Jesus called to Lazarus, Lazarus, come out! In hearing his name, Lazarus came out, and was unbound, set free. Lazarus, the one who was dead, is now alive.

But not even just you and me and Lazarus, Mary as well. Mary stood weeping at Jesus’ tomb. She bent over to look into the tomb and saw two angels in white, sitting where Jesus should have been. She did not know where Jesus had been taken.

She turned around and Jesus was standing there, but she didn’t know him, she thought he was the gardener. Until he spoke to her, until he called her name, Mary! She turned and saw him, teacher! Mary went and announced to the disciples, “I have seen the Lord!” I have seen the Lord!

The abundance of the life Jesus invites us into is shown to us by the healing of the man blind from birth. Being blind from birth is being blind for-ever, and this man can see! He recognizes Jesus. This is an abundance that is immense, over the top. The man who was blind, now is saved from darkness. The man who was blind is brought from the margins of the community, into the community. The man who was blind, has new and abundant life.

Lazarus lives!

Mary proclaims.

We hear Jesus call our name, we recognize Jesus is the door through which we too can see God’s presence with us, making us into a beloved being. Giving us sight that enables us to see Jesus in our midst, in ourselves, in one another. Giving us sight that enables us to proclaim, like Mary, I have seen the Lord!

And what’s more, what’s even more over the top, more abundant, more amazing, is that Jesus, the door into God’s embrace, God’s love, is not exclusive or judging. This not about keeping people out, this is Jesus inviting people into new life, abundant life. “I am the door” is to invite people in, to recognize God in the flesh that is Jesus’ new and abundant life. To hear the voice of the shepherd, to walk through the door that is open, is to follow Jesus into Life, abundant life. Life in the here and now and life eternal in the resurrection. Life in the here and now and life even when Jesus leaves us. You are enough, see Jesus, recognize Jesus is God with us, walk through the door, and receive life, abundant life.

22nd Sunday after Pentecost Yr B Proper 25 Oct 25 2015

22nd Sunday after Pentecost Yr B Proper 25 Oct 25 2015

We take up with the gospel of Mark again in the shadow of Jerusalem, on the way to the cross. We've been on this road for a while now, along with those in the story who are on the way. Before the followers of Jesus were called Christians, they were, we are, people of the way. This story of the blind Bartimaeus is the last story of Jesus’ ministry, before the cross and the passion.

"What do you want me to do for you?" Jesus’ question of Bartimaeus is the same question that Jesus asked James and John only a moment ago. But the contrast between the request of James and John and the request Bartimaeus makes is cavernous. James and John were somewhat confused, they ask Jesus for power, they think the kingdom is about a seating chart. Bartimaeus asks to see. Not at all like the power and status that James and John were all about, and Bartimaeus wasn’t even officially a disciple.

Jesus called the disciples, Jesus said to them, come, follow me, and they did, they left everything to follow Jesus. But somehow there's a difference here between James and John, and Bartimaeus. It seems the healing; the transformation of James and John was a bit long in coming, not unlike most, if not many of us. It takes time to be changed by God’s amazing and abundant love. For most of us that doesn’t happen immediately, it happens gradually. I’ve spoken in recent weeks about the importance of examining what it is that we hold most dear. What is it that we hold on to so tightly it becomes idolatrous? What are the barriers that we set up in our relationship with God, with ourselves and with others? Are there burdens that we need to set down so that we may follow God’s love in Jesus Christ? We are much more like James and John than we are like Bartimaeus. For most of us, our blindness is not immediately noticeable to others, unlike Bartimaeus whose blindness was obvious. Our hurts and pains are buried deep and wide, and instead of being healed, like Bartimaeus, we look to taking power and hope to sit next to Jesus, like James and John. Jesus' call to us, the call to be followers, to be people of the way, is to open ourselves up, to reduce our baggage, to lay our burdens down, to let Love win. It’s hard to hear the call when there's so much noise, it’s hard to follow when what we carry is so heavy, it’s hard to move when we’ve built our sturdy wall. Being healed isn't easy for us.

Being healed changed Bartimaeus’ life completely. There’s some good and some not so good about being healed. The good part for Bartimaeus was being restored to the community. As a blind man in that culture he was outcast, on the margins, unseen by any who walked by him on that road. His work was begging and as a man restored to society, he had to get a job.

There is risk involved in being healed. There is risk involved in transformation. Life will never, can never be the same. Out of what seems like death comes resurrection. We cling so desperately to that which we believe is our identity, it's nearly impossible to give that up to an identity as beloved of God. Letting go of what we believe defines us to take on our true identity may hurt and is hard. But unless and until we let die what is killing us, we can never be healed, we will never be transformed into the new person in Christ. The Good News is that when we do let die what is killing us, we make room for Love to interrupt our precisely organized patterns, we make room for Love change our path, we make room to go home by a different way. And there will be new life in ways we can hardly begin to imagine.

Bartimaeus regained his sight and followed Jesus on the way. The way at this point is to the cross, which is where the rest of the story takes place. Not easy, no more business as usual, always death before resurrection. Discipleship, following Jesus on the way, to the cross, all the way to resurrection, is not about gaining or wielding power and status, it's not about a seating chart, and it is not about pain and suffering for suffering sake, or for the sake of martyrdom, but is about embracing this life with all it entails. It is as much about joy, thanksgiving and gratitude, as it is about pain,  suffering and tragedy. It is about our God’s willingness to be with us in the middle of it all.

Bartimaeus is called, and healed, and in faith follows Jesus. Had Bartimaeus known what lie ahead for Jesus and for the rest of the followers, he and the others might have bailed, who knows. Thank God our minds don't know what is ahead of us, the fear would surely cripple us. 

The journey to and through the cross is as difficult as it is exhilarating, following Jesus is not for the feint of heart. It was only a very short period of time between Bartimaeus being healed, being restored to the community, and Jesus’ passion, suffering, death and resurrection. Bartimaeus could easily have decided it wasn’t worth it, thought to himself, why bother. 

So discipleship as Bartimaeus shows us is not about the reward, it is about the journey. It is about being accompanied by Jesus on the road, it is about accompanying others on the journey, it is about seeing, seeing, the grace, the joy, the wonder, in all that life throws at us. Unlike Bartimaeus and the others, we know the end of the story. We know that resurrection happens. We know that life always wins over death. We know that we are part of resurrection. There is hope. There is hope. And yet, it is still so very difficult, and fearful for us, to be on the way.

Following Jesus is not about having the right answers; it’s not about being perfect. Following Jesus is seeing healing right in front of us; following Jesus is seeing the divine in one another and joining with one another on the journey. Following Jesus is being willing to be interrupted in the midst of our best laid plans, being interrupted to see the beauty of this creation, being interrupted to help our neighbor. Following Jesus is being transformed, being changed; becoming the creation that God calls us to be. Following Jesus is answering yes to God’s call to come, even when the road ahead seems treacherous. Following Jesus is giving all that we have and all that we are because in the beginning, in the midst, and in the end, Love wins.

22 Pentecost Proper 25 Yr B Oct 28 2012

We take up with the gospel of Mark again in the shadow of Jerusalem, on the way to the cross. We've been on this road for a while now. This story of the blind Bartimaeus is the last story of Jesus’ ministry, before the cross and the passion.

"What do you want me to do for you?" Jesus’ question of Bartimaeus is the same question that Jesus asked James and John only a moment ago. But the contrast between the request of James and John and the request Bartimaeus makes is cavernous. James and John were somewhat confused, they ask Jesus for power, they think the kingdom is about a seating chart. Bartimaeus asks to see. Not at all like the power and status that James and John were all about, and Bartimaeus wasn’t even officially a disciple.

Jesus called the disciples, Jesus said to them, come, follow me, and they did, they left everything to follow Jesus. But somehow there's a difference here between James and John, and Bartimaeus. It seems the healing; the transformation of James and John was a bit long in coming, not unlike most, if not many of us. It takes time to be changed by God’s amazing and abundant love. For most of us that doesn’t happen immediately, it happens gradually. I’ve spoken in recent weeks about the importance of examining what it is that we hold most dear. What is it that we hold on to so tightly it becomes idolatrous? What are the barriers that we set up in our relationship with God, with ourselves and with others? Are there burdens that we need to set down so that we may follow God’s love in Jesus Christ? We are much more like James and John than we are like Bartimaeus. For most of us, our blindness is not immediately noticeable to others, unlike Bartimaeus whose blindness was obvious. Our hurts and pains are buried deep and wide, and instead of being healed, like Bartimaeus, we look to taking power and hope to sit next to Jesus, like James and John. Jesus' call to us, the call to discipleship, is to open ourselves up, to reduce our baggage, to lay our burdens down, to let Love win. It’s hard to hear the call when there's so much noise, it’s hard to follow when what we carry is so heavy, it’s hard to move when we’ve built our sturdy wall. Being healed isn't easy for us.

Being healed changed Bartimaeus’ life completely. There’s some good and some not so good about being healed. The good part for Bartimaeus was being restored to the community. As a blind man in that culture he was outcast, on the margins, unseen by any who walked by him on that road. His work was begging and as a man restored to society, he had to get a job.

There is risk involved in being healed. There is risk involved in transformation. Life will never, can never be the same. Out of what seems like death comes resurrection. We cling so desperately to that which we believe is our identity, it's nearly impossible to give that up to an identity as beloved of God. Letting go of what we believe defines us to take on our true identity may hurt and is hard. But unless and until we let die what is killing us, we can never be healed, we will never be transformed into the new person in Christ. The Good News is that when we do let die what is killing us, we make room for Love to win, there will be new life in ways we can hardly begin to imagine.

Bartimaeus regained his sight and followed Jesus on the way. The way at this point is to the cross, which is where the rest of the story takes place. Not easy, no more business as usual, always death before resurrection. Discipleship, following Jesus on the way, to the cross, all the way to resurrection, is not about gaining or wielding power and status, it's not about a seating chart, and it is not about pain and suffering for suffering sake, or for the sake of martyrdom, but is about embracing this life with all it entails. It is as much about joy, thanksgiving and gratitude, as it is about pain,  suffering and tragedy. It is about our God’s willingness to be with us in the middle of it all.

Bartimaeus is called, and healed, and in faith follows Jesus. Had Bartimaeus known what lie ahead for Jesus and for the rest of the followers, they might have bailed, who knows. The journey to and through the cross is as difficult as it is exhilarating, discipleship is not for the feint of heart. It was only a very short period of time between Bartimaeus being healed, being restored to the community, and Jesus’ passion, suffering, death and resurrection. Bartimaeus could easily have it wasn’t worth it, why bother,  what happened to the reward, where’s the power and status in all this.

So discipleship as Bartimaeus shows us is not about the reward, it is about the journey. It is about being accompanied by Jesus on the road, it is about accompanying others on the journey, it is about seeing, seeing, the grace, the joy, the wonder, in all that life throws at us, because we know that Love wins. We know that resurrection happens. We know that life always wins over death. We know that we are part of resurrection. There is hope. There is hope.

Discipleship, following Jesus, is not about having the right answers; it’s not about being perfect. Discipleship is seeing healing right in front of us; discipleship is seeing the divine in one another and joining with one another in the journey. Discipleship is being transformed, being changed; becoming the creation that God calls us to be. Discipleship is answering yes to God’s call to come, even when the road ahead seems treacherous because Love wins.

4 Lent Yr A

“Be thou my vision, O Lord of my heart; all else be nought to me, save that thou art – thou my best thought, by day or by night, waking or sleeping, thy presence my light.” I have been wondering mightily what it means to really see, what true vision really is. And as I wonder, I recall the words from the movie Avatar. You may remember them. As our characters, Jake Sully and Neytiri, journey together on the planet Pandora, Neytiri says to Jake Sully, “I see you.” Neytiri teaches Jake Sully the ways of her culture, her language, her natural world, she shows him the mystery of life on Pandora, he walks beside her learning the ways of the people there, and somewhere, sometime on that journey, Jake Sully says to Neytiri, “I see you.” I see you, what does it mean to see? For these characters it means so much more than what is absorbed through the open eyes. It means that the heart and the soul, the body and the mind are engaged in knowing, listening, being, and suffering. It is a journey of seeing, a journey of knowing. In this story, the scales do not fall from the eyes in one instant, as they did for Paul on the Damascus Road. In this story, it is the relationship that affects the seeing.

What does it mean to really see? “Be thou my vision, O Lord of my heart; all else be nought to me, save that thou art – thou my best thought, by day or by night, waking or sleeping, thy presence my light.” “I see you,” the people of Pandora say to their beloved, this hymn sings of a similar seeing. Seeing, vision, takes all of our senses and our sensibilities, seeing engages our entire being, and seeing presumes relationship, it presumes walking together.

As I have pondered this question, I also think of Kathy Davis, who is blind. When Kathy wants to see something, she takes it in her hands, she touches it, and turns it, she puts her fingers in the holes, she feels the sharp edges, she asks about its color. What does it really mean to see?

In the story of seeing we have before us today, having one’s eyes open does not presume seeing. In this story there are many characters, there is the man whose eyes Jesus opens. Jesus made mud and opened his eyes. When some of the Pharisees questioned him, his response is that Jesus is a prophet. And yet the Samaritan woman at the well has already named Jesus the Messiah, many Samaritans from that city believed in him because they saw the woman’s passion and joy at her discovery that the man at the well is the Messiah. Jesus has healed the official’s son, the man by the Sheep Gate who could not enter the pool took his mat up and walked, Jesus feeds five thousand people, he walks across the water, and yet this man whose eyes were opened calls Jesus a prophet. It is only later, after being questioned, after the dawning of who Jesus must be, does the man really begin to see who Jesus really is.

The man’s parents and the neighbors could not see that it was Jesus in their midst. And the Pharisees could see nothing at all, except the sin of the parents, and the sin of healing on the Sabbath. What does it really mean to see?

There is a clue in the reading from Samuel. The story we hear today is the middle of a longer story about the Lord choosing a king for Israel, the Lord does not really want a king for Israel, but the Israelites insist. So the Lord looks over each of these candidates for kingship, and each of them is rejected. Eventually, the one chosen is David, and we all know David does not turn out perfectly. But in the middle of the story today, we hear “for the Lord does not see as mortals see; they look on the outward appearance, but the Lord looks on the heart. “

Is that what it means to really see? Surely that would be the meaning of the words “I see you,” as Jake Sully says them to Neytiri. Surely that would be the prayer in the words of our hymn today, be what I see Lord, be my best thought day and night, in my waking and my sleeping. What if we look upon one another with open eyes from the heart, would that change us? What if we look upon one another with eyes that forgive, would that transform our lives? What if we look upon one another with eyes of compassion, would we live more kindly, more gently? And, what if we truly believe that God looks upon us with love, forgiveness, and compassion, would we be transformed?

It is indeed the journey with Jesus and with one another that creates in us the gift of seeing. The blind man’s eyes indeed were opened, but it took some time before he was able to really see, before he was able to see who it was who gave him sight, before he was able to say “I was blind, now I see.” You see, this is fundamentally a story about grace. These stories before us today, all of them, the ancient stories from the Old Testament, the stories from the time of Jesus, and the very new stories that are told today, these are stories about grace. These are stories that reveal the truth of God in our midst. They are stories that reveal the truth of pain and suffering, of death and resurrection. They are stories that reveal the truth of disappointment and loss, and the new life that always results. They are stories that reveal the truth of communion and of community.

Together we walk the road, we make this journey together. We can’t do it alone. We can’t bear the pain and suffering alone, and we don’t want to bear the joy by ourselves. To see one another with eyes of the heart, to look upon one another with forgiveness and compassion, is to acknowledge our shared humanity; it is to recognize Jesus in our midst.

This season of Lent is a gift of opportunity. Lent gives us another chance to see, to see God in our midst, to see the gift of forgiveness and grace, to see one another as we journey together on this road of faith, to see one another on this road of compassion and mercy. Lent helps us to have clearer vision; it gives us a longer view.

And as we see more clearly, we realize that forgiveness and compassion are made manifest in who we are and what we do. What does it mean to really see? It means that our hearts are open to each other, especially those with whom we disagree. It means that we respond to God’s amazing grace by really seeing those who we are so unlike. It means that we approach God’s creation with our eyes, our hearts, our souls, wide open. And when we do that, we are able to see the need that is in our church and our community. The needs that you and I are able to address. We can feed people, we can clothe people, we can have hope and be the hope for others.

And as we do that, we reach out to each other, we hold hands, because most definitely we will step in the mess and the muck. We will step in the holes; we will trip over the obstacles. This Christian journey is a journey we take together, because together, we see more clearly.

The Lord is full of compassion and mercy: Come let us adore him.