“You can’t depend on your eyes when your imagination is out of focus.” It is a quote by Mark Twain. Our eyes can deceive us, it seems to be saying. We often see what we already believe to be true.
So close your eyes for five seconds. And then open them.
You can’t depend on your eyes. A strange thing to say. But as I age, my eyes too show signs of aging. Our eyes can play tricks on us. As strange as the words Jesus says at the close of the Gospel lesson, “those who do not see may see, and those who do see may become blind.”
All through the gospel, the sighted people do not see the truth. The truth that the blind man was really healed. And the truth that Jesus is indeed God’s anointed one, the Christ. The neighbors are hesitant and fearful. The religious authorities are downright judgmental concerned that a healing take place on the Sabbath violated the law, tradition and status quo.
Believers in Jesus are being expelled from the synagogue. It is a moment of crisis. To live in darkness is not to believe. To truly see is to acknowledge Jesus as the Messiah.
There is a healing. Jesus makes mud and anoints the blind beggar’s eyes and tells him to wash in a pool. And he receives his sight. Yet li there is always more to the story than the story. You can’t just depend on your eyes. The blind man sees something more profound. He sees with the eyes of faith and comes to believe in Jesus.
In the first reading, God chooses a boy too young to be anointed as one chosen to lead Israel. When the prophet Samuel is sent by God to find the new king who will replace Saul, Samuel goes through a long line of all Jesse’s tall, strapping, competent-looking sons of appropriate age. When none of them are chosen, finally Jesse sends for young David. All of the obvious-to-us choices were declined in favor of a boy. What we may see as authoritative, respectable, and trustworthy may not always align with God. Today’s first reading reminds us that “the Lord does not see as mortals see; they look on the outward appearance, but the Lord looks on the heart.” (1 Sam 16:7).
With our society’s emphasis on fashion and fitting in, we make quick judgments about people based on outer appearance alone.
How often don’t we “see” people as they truly are? We may talk down to people with disabilities, in a wheelchair, for example.
Ray Charles was a singer who played piano and saxophone, and was a pioneer of soul music, and was blind. In the movie Ray, chronicling Ray Charles’ life, there is a scene where Ray argues against the goodness of God, stating, “God doesn’t listen to people like me.”
Most of us have blind spots. It takes more than contact lenses or washing the smudge from our glasses to correct our sight. Often, we are the last ones to see what we’re not seeing. It may be our arrogance, prejudice, or narrow-mindedness. We don’t see how we are hurting ourselves and others. Other times, we don’t see our own beauty, giftedness, or worthiness. And we need reminders to help us see more clearly.
French painter Paul Gauguin wrote: “I shut my eyes to see.” Our eyes can miss so much. We skim and scan over news headlines, over people, over white privilege and racism, over ableism and ageism, over pain, over injustices, over our greed and unsustainable economy. We miss the hope; we miss the beauty in front of our eyes. It will always be the case that those who are blind, those with limited vision, those who have had to compensate with other senses, have much to teach us – much to show us.
Life can be complicated and complex. It all depends on the lens you use. Sometimes it takes hindsight for us to see. Then we can say, then we can sing, “I was blind, but now I see.” Other times our prayer is simply, “Open our eyes, Lord.”
Baptism is sometimes referenced as an image of the blind man washing in the pool at Siloam. Our baptism of being washed in God’s grace is a lifetime experience of continuing to receive healing and forgiveness. Learning how to see with new eyes, we are expanding our imagination.
From the Gospel lesson: “When he had said this, he spat on the ground and made mud with the saliva and spread the mud on the man’s eyes, saying to him, ‘Go, wash in the pool of Siloam”. Then he went and washed and came back able to see.”
Maybe you are seeking healing and a new lens on life today. And for a reminder of Jesus’ washing in this season of Lent, I invite you to a healing anointing today. At the conclusion of worship, I will not be visiting in the back of the church but will be up here at the altar rail with anointing oil. As you are drawn, I invite you to come to the altar and receive a healing anointing.
I share with you now a blessing written by author Jan Richardson titled “The Blessing of Mud”:
Lest we think
the blessing
is not
in the dirt.
Lest we think
the blessing
is not
in the earth
beneath our feet.
Lest we think
the blessing
is not
in the dust,
like the dust
that God scooped up
at the beginning
and formed
with God’s
two hands
and breathed into
with God’s own
breath.
Lest we think
the blessing
is not
in the spit.
Lest we think
the blessing
is not
in the mud.
Lest we think
the blessing
is not
in the mire,
the grime,
the muck.
Lest we think
God cannot reach
deep into the things
of earth,
cannot bring forth
the blessing
that shimmers
within the sludge,
cannot anoint us
with a tender
and grimy grace.
—Jan Richardson from Circle of Grace: A Book of Blessings for the Seasons
Thank be to God for healing our vision – for God’s grace that sees into our hearts. For a community and sometimes strangers who help us to see in the dark. For corrective lenses that help us move forward. For a Gospel that teaches us new ways of seeing.
