conjectural navel gazing; jesus in lint form

sermon: free to see

Sermon: Fourth Sunday of Lent, Year A 2008
The Community Church of Wilmette
March 2, 2008

Psalm 23
John 9:1-42

Free to See

The thing that is most surprising to me is this:
The man who had been blind since birth,
the same man who had been begging outside their walls
for years,
their neighbors’ son,
is someone that they did not recognize.

All this talk about sight, gaining it, healing it, and,
for the Pharisees at least, losing it,
and it is so easy to miss this simple little point:
Before Jesus had come along and healed the man
no one knew who he was. And no one cared.

I love a trial scene as much as the next guy,
and this one in John’s gospel is pretty famous
all things being equal. Someone who has received
grace is being blamed for it…being blamed for being healed.
He was healed on the wrong day.
And he wasn’t supposed to be healed at all.
It was not supposed to be possible.
No one had ever done it before.

And this presents a familiar problem for the Pharisees.
It’s familiar to me at least. I hear old complaints in my mind.
Doesn’t he know his place in society?
Doesn’t he know that he’s not supposed to get better?
Doesn’t he know how to stay anonymous?
And why won’t he tell us who is to blame?
Who sinned? This man or his parents?

This is the trouble with some types of blindness.
Yes, there are types of blindness.
You can be blind from birth, it seems.
And you can be blinded later on in life.
Perhaps you were injured or you got sick.
And you can be blind to grace.
Yes, you can be blind to grace.
The trouble with that last one is this:
you have to choose it…choose spiritual blindness.

To be blind to grace is the fruit of the choices we make.
This is the kind of blindness that the Pharisees have in this story.
And you don’t have to be a Pharisee to be blind to grace.
No point in blaming them. Or keeping them in Their Place.
“I am so glad I am not a Pharisee!
I would hate to be blind to grace.”
We all spend some time in life being a Pharisee.

Once upon a time in the Church, so scholars tell us,
this passage from John was used to instruct new Christians.
It was part of pre-baptismal training.
There was a lesson that the early leaders
in the church were trying to teach people
who wanted to follow Jesus.

The man born blind would show up in artwork
in early places of worship, in catacombs and house churches.
And that artwork would be above the baptistery.
You were blind but now you see.
Grace has visited you and now we wash you clean.
Go to the pool called Siloam. Amazing grace.
The church has been singing that song for a long time,
even before it was written it seems.

It’s a lesson we need to learn again and again…
As a people and as individuals. We sometimes
become blind to those around us who are in
the greatest need. We are blind. And it is a blindness
we choose. There was money in slave trading. And
there was just enough moral ambiguity about slavery
and people from Africa (Weren’t they born slaves?)
that good people chose blindness and traded other human beings
for money. But then, as the song says,
God can intervene and the scales can fall off their eyes.
Amazing grace, how sweet the sound…

That sound is the voice that comes out of darkness
and offers Light to the blind.
Jesus comes over and puts a little mud on our eyes
and sends us off to be washed in a pool.

The early church wanted people to remember this story.
Being a Christian did not make you popular.
People might want to put you on trial or something.
Maybe it was the Romans. Or maybe they just wanted
to kick you out of the synagogue. That happened too.
And this story serves as a warning, and a lesson.
It was an apologetic, a story meant to explain to
the new Christian and their Jewish family exactly
what was going on. Someone was gaining their sight
and someone else was losing it.

Obviously, the early Christians had their opinion about
who was losing what. Obviously.

But today I find myself wondering if I too am blind.
Am I blind to the pain that is all around me?
Am I blind to poverty…no matter what Bono says?
And why would I choose such a thing?

It occurs to me that I must be afraid.
I must be afraid of what I will see. And what I will see
is my own culpability, my own sordid
and sad Acquiescence. I will see that I have sold out.
I sold out a long, long time ago.

I was probably just having fun, walking down some street
in downtown Richmond, or maybe Chicago.
I was proud of myself, happy with my life and simply stopped
seeing. I stopped seeing the other people and I
stopped seeing myself as part of the problem or part of the solution.
I likely said something like “It’s just how things are.”

Dave Matthews sings about this problem in his song, “Bartender.”
He sings about self-knowledge.
It’s a song about Communion and his own wealth. Yes, Dave
Matthews sings about Communion and his own wealth.
His wealth is considerable. And so too is his need for Grace.

Bartender, please
Fill my glass for me
With the wine you gave Jesus that set him free
After three days in the ground

I'm on bended knees, I pray
Bartender, please

When I was young, I never think about it
Now I can't get it out of my mind

I'm on bended knees
Father, please

Oh, and if all this gold
Should steal my soul away
Oh, sweet mother of mine
Please redirect me in this gold...

Bartender, you see
The wine that's drinking me
Came from the vine that strung Judas from the Devil's tree
His roots deep, deep in the ground

Bartender, you see
The wine that's drinking me
Came from the vine that strung Judas from the Devil's tree
His roots deep, deep in the ground

In the Ground...

I'm on bended knees
Oh, Bartender, please

I'm on bended knees
Father, please

When I was young, I never think about it

He was unthinking…choosing blindness.
And suddenly he sees. He sees himself and where he is.
He sees what his life has become. God has washed his eyes clean.
And this is what I fear.
This is the fear that I have of God’s Grace.
And this is why so often I choose blindness.
Grace reveals to me my own sin, my own choices,
And there is no one else left to blame.
There is no system, no government, and no parent.
(Who sinned? This man or his parents?
Freud must have loved this story.)

But there is Good News. There is a light in the darkness.
There is a way Through the valley of the Shadow of Death
And he comes…he comes with the simplest of things in
His hands, mud, water, bread, wine and a gathering of friends,
a new family of God’s own children.
Jesus comes. And he puts a salve on our eyes.
He whispers to us…
“Go to the pool and be washed.
I love you.
Be free…free to see.”

Thanks be to God.

Posted by tripp at March 2, 2008 06:25 AM