The favorite joke in our house the past few weeks goes something like this: Wade comes bounding into the room and says, “Mommy! Say, “How do I look?” “Okay, how do I look?” “With your eyes!!”
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| Photo by Manoj Poosam on Unsplash |
It’s a great joke! It does what all great jokes do - it catches you by surprise, subverts your expectations.
Today’s reading from the Gospel of John does the same, though what it reveals is quite the opposite. In this reading, we are invited to recognize how seeing with just our eyes can lead us to miss some pretty important things.
From the outset, “seeing with their eyes” leads Jesus’s disciples to make the assumption that disability is caused by sin, either the sin of the disabled person, or the sin of their parents. They were probably not the only ones to think this; in fact, it’s justification that we still hear today, that personal suffering is somehow a punishment for past actions. But when Jesus hears this, he shuts it down right away. It’s not about sin at all. This man was born blind – and, indeed, each of us are born just the way we are – so that God’s works might be revealed in him.
“Seeing with their eyes” leads the neighbors to see the man born blind as just a flat caricature - some blind beggar who is interchangeable with any other blind beggar. They don’t see him as a whole, unique person who is not out there but rather part of their community – their neighbor.
It leads the neighbors and the Pharisees - the religious leaders - to make other assumptions about the man who was born blind. First and foremost, they assume that his disability means that he’s not a reliable witness of his own experience. They don’t trust him; keep bringing in other people to corroborate what he lived, what he knows better than anyone else.
But because he’s an outsider, they assume that he has nothing of worth to contribute to the conversation. And when he gives this really lovely theological exposition of who Jesus is and how Jesus is able to perform this sign, they are so challenged by something that does not align with their long-held perceptions, and so angry that he would dare to have an opinion that disagrees with theirs, that they drive him out.
“Seeing with their eyes” also leads the religious leaders to view upholding the Sabbath as the most important thing, more than the work of healing and restoration to community that Jesus brings about. Their outrage about this also causes them to miss the big picture - something amazing has happened! Regardless of how or when, a man has received his sight! But the time that could be spent celebrating and sharing the good news is instead spent interrogating the man, and his parents, and the neighbors, all with unsatisfying results.
“Seeing with their eyes” also leads them to make assumptions about Jesus - that though he performs signs and miracles, he is not from God because he does not observe the Sabbath in the way the religious leaders expected.
We see ourselves in this story in a number of ways. Perhaps others have made assumptions about us, our experiences, or our reliability in sharing them. Perhaps we can think of times that we've been guilty of seeing with just our eyes in ways that prevent us from seeing the whole, full reality.
We, too, make assumptions about people based on what we can see on the outside. Assumptions based on their race and nationality, the kind of clothes they wear or the place they live, the way they speak, their ability or disability, their religion – any number of things. And not only do we make assumptions, we act on those assumptions. We use our assumptions to distance ourselves from things we do not understand, and we fall into the ease and simplicity of seeing stereotypes rather than whole, robust, unique people, who are indeed our neighbors.
The good news in this text is that Jesus sees the man in every way that matters. At the beginning of the story, Jesus sees the way his disciples’ questions attempt to flatten this man into some case study about sin, something that will allow them to keep him at arm’s length. But when Jesus sees this, he instead comes close to the man - close enough to make mud, close enough to spread it on his eyes, recalling God’s mud sculpting in Genesis 2 that brings forth a new creation.
At the end of the story, Jesus again comes near after everyone else has pushed this man away and driven him out. Jesus sees him. Jesus comes close to him, and affirms that this man has indeed seen in the way that matters most - he has seen the Son-of-Man. He has seen Jesus, who brings forgiveness, and life, and salvation. And when Jesus tells him, “I am he”, he doesn’t interrogate, he doesn’t bring forth other witnesses to corroborate the story he thinks he knows. Instead, he worships, says “I believe.”
The good news for us is that Jesus sees us in every way that matters, too. Jesus sees our sin, sees our pain and our fear, and also sees our belovedness. Jesus sends us to wash in the waters that bring healing and restoration and life – yes, the waters of baptism.
Jesus comes near to us. So near, in fact, that his very body and blood are received into our own bodies as we share in the Communion meal. Drawn close to Jesus, we too are healed, and strengthened, and sent to proclaim the truth, and the joy, and the wonder of who Jesus is and what Jesus can do. In our own communities and in our own homes, we, too, say “I believe! Look at this miraculous thing that has happened. Look how God is here!” For the gifts of healing and life, we give thanks and praise to God.
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