Lent 4 (A) + True sight + 3.26.17

(from christianitytoday.com)
M. Campbell-Langdell
All Santos, Oxnard

The man answered, “Here is an astonishing thing! You do not know where he comes from, and yet he opened my eyes. We know that God does not listen to sinners, but he does listen to one who worships him and obeys his will. Never since the world began has it been heard that anyone opened the eyes of a person born blind. If this man were not from God, he could do nothing.” They answered him, “You were born entirely in sins, and are you trying to teach us?” And they drove him out. (John 9:30-34)
Today’s gospel deals, in part, with the kind of sight that matters, and about receiving knowledge from unexpected people.
In a book I am reading, called The Art of Hearing Heartbeats, a blind young man named Tin Win’s Buddhist teacher U May has become blind. But they get into a discussion about how he doesn’t see himself as blind. Their dialog goes like this:
“How come you can’t see anything?” Tin Win asked him one day
“Who says I can’t see anything?”
“Su Kyi. She says you’re blind.”
“Me? Blind? It’s true that I lost my eyesight many years ago. But that doesn’t mean I’m blind.” He paused, then asked: “And you? Are you blind?”
Tin Win considered. “I can tell light from dark, nothing more.”
“Have you a nose to smell with?”
“Of course I do.”
“Hands to feel with?”
“Certainly, yes.”
“Ears to hear with?”
“Of course.” …
“What more do you need?” asked U May. “The true essence of things is invisible to the eyes.”[1]
In the gospels, the true essence of things is often not immediately visible, and we learn in this gospel encounter that it is not the blind man’s sight that is truly lacking- one imagines he could have sensed these things about Jesus even without his sight restored. In fact, Jesus hopes to use the opportunity to heal this man’s infirmity as a way of showing those around him about the Kingdom of God.  But they cannot hear or see  because the man who shares this insight is not who they expect to be able to share such spiritual revelations.
This scene reminds me of one of the first scenes in the movie “Concussion” (2015) with Will Smith, in which he plays Dr. Bennet Omalu, who is serving as an expert witness in a courtroom. Omalu is asked if he has a medical degree, and is questioned as to how he might shed new light on a case that has been in appeals for ages, and Omalu goes on to explain at length and very pleasantly, how he not only has a medical degree, but a couple of Masters Degrees, is working on an MBA, in addition to another Master’s Degree in Music, as well as residencies and board certifications from esteemed institutions. Because Omalu is of African descent, and approaches medicine differently, or perhaps just because of the color of his skin, he is immediately seen as someone who needs to prove himself. And that he does, to great effect. But the watcher is reminded that Dr. Omalu has to prove that he has something to share. And he does, a huge revelation for that case and later for the medical community regarding the dangers implicit in some kinds of American football.
This blind man, too, is presumed sinful because of his predicament. But if anything his lack of sight has given him insight into things much deeper. Into wisdom that comes from God.
In 1 Samuel, we hear about how God does not see as humans see (16:7b). They look on outward appearance, but God looks on the heart.
In the section I read to you before, the Buddhist monk U May continues:
“Our sensory organs love to lead us astray, and eyes are the most deceptive of all. We rely too heavily upon them. We believe that we see the world around us, and yet it is only the surface that we perceive. We must learn to divine the true nature of things, their substance, and the eyes are rather a hindrance than a help in that regard. They distract us. We love to be dazzled. A person who relies too heavily on his eyes neglects his other senses—and I mean more than his hearing or sense of smell. I’m talking about the organ within us for which we have no name. Let us call it the compass of the heart.”[2]
This blind man has a finely tuned compass of the heart, and is able to see a lot of who Jesus is even while he is still trying to figure that out with his mind. And he yearns to share that with others.
We are children of the light, and the light enters the eyes and allows us to see. But Jesus calls us to be children of the light in another way. To let the light of Christ enter our hearts and allow us to see another way, a way that is beyond seeing, beyond being dazzled by the world. May God illumine us to see how God is sharing wisdom, even now, from unexpected people, wisdom to help heal the world.



[1] Jan-Philipp Sendker, The Art of Hearing Heartbeats, trans. Kevin Wiliarty (New York: Other Press, 2006), 122-123.
[2] Ibid.

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