Who sinned this man or his parents?
Do they think I can’t hear them?
I’m blind, not deaf. With all their laughing and talking and commenting on every last tree and stone and person, I heard them coming for the last 15 minutes. There must be at least a dozen people, men and women, in this group. I wonder where they are going.
I hope they toss a few coins my way so I can buy some bread today.
If they bothered to ask, to speak to me like a human being, I would have told them that I was born this way.
But no, they just assume that there’s something deeply wrong with me because I’m blind. Because the only way I can support myself is to sit here at the side of the road, all day, every day, in the sun, begging for kindness of people who would rather I disappear.
Sure, a few of my neighbors take pity on me and bring me food or a new cloak every now and then. It’s not like they don’t know me. I’ve lived here my whole life. They know my parents and my grandparents and all my cousins. But they all can see and work and have families…
Wait a moment, what’s happening?
The traveling group stopped walking. I sense that they are gathered around me. Some guy is talking about light. He says he’s the light of the world.
Nice for him. I don’t even know what light looks like.
Oh, great, somebody is spitting on me. Again. At least it didn’t hit my face.
I hope they don’t add a couple of swift kicks to see if I will fight back.
I’ve learned there’s no point. They give up and leave me alone if I don’t defend myself.
Who’s touching me?! What are you putting on my eyes?
That’s disgusting!
You want me to go wash my face?! After you just smeared who knows what on me? You bet I will.
At least the pool of Siloam is just around the corner, and I know my way.
It’s good to get up and stretch my legs. Sometimes they fall asleep when I spend all day sitting there. I hope those creeps are gone when I get back.
Oh, blessed cool water. It feels good on my hot dusty face.
That guy put spit-mud on my eyes. So gross. And it dried a little so it’s crusty.
Maybe I can put my face in the water and rub it off gently.
People think that just because I’m blind they can do whatever they want to me, treat me worse than a dog. Like I’m not human.
That’s weird. My eyes feel different. Maybe I rubbed them too hard.
I don’t know. Maybe if I open them. Ow! What?!
You’re not going to believe this. I can see!!
I see the water in the pool. People washing clothes, and carrying water jugs. Dogs and chickens. At least they sound like chickens - they sure are funny looking!
Hey people, I can see!
Yes, yes, it’s me. The one who used to sit and beg. Really.
This guy named Jesus made mud, spread it on my eyes, and then told me, ‘Go to Siloam and wash.’ So I went and washed - and now I can see. Isn’t that amazing?
No, no, I don’t know where he is.
OK, sure, we can go to the synagogue and tell the Pharisees.
I don’t know why, they never wanted to talk with me before.
This is my story. It hasn’t changed. Jesus. Mud. Wash. Now I can see. It’s amazing! I’m telling you, this man is a prophet.
Sure, I’ll wait while you talk with my parents.
They don’t want anything to do with me either.
You think this Jesus guy is a sinner?
I don’t know whether he is or not. What I do know is that I was blind, and now I see.
I told you my story already, and you didn’t believe me. Why do you want to hear it again? Do you want to become Jesus’ disciple?
Or maybe you just want to find more ways he has broken your rules.
Oh, you don’t know where he comes from. And how is that important?
‘Here is an astonishing thing! You do not know where he came from, and still he opened my eyes. We know that God does not listen to sinners, but he does listen to people who worship him and obey 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.’
Okay. You don’t believe me? And you’re calling ME blind?
I don’t need you to tell me what I experienced.
Yep. I’m going.
I have to get back to the main road. I have to find that guy Jesus.
Oh, hello, brother. I recognize your voice. Are you Jesus?
Thank you, thank you, for opening my eyes. The world is amazing, so many colors, animals, people, plants. And you are beautiful to see! You made me whole, gave me a chance to live life, to finally feel like I belong. My life will never be the same - and that’s a blessing!
Lord, I believe.
And I will never stop telling people the story of how you opened my eyes.
******
Jesus offers the man, and us, the gift and grace of belonging. Like all graces, it is a gift - unasked and unearned. Where his neighbors, his family, his faith community reject him, refuse to see him or validate his experience, Jesus sees him as he is. Whole and holy, a worthy and beloved child of God.
The Catechism says, ‘Sin is seeking our own will instead of the will of God, thus distorting our relationship with God, with other people, and with all of creation.’ (BCP 848)
Sin distorts our view of other people, God, and all creation. Relationships that started as mutual and life-nurturing become warped and no longer sources of joy, growth, or flourishing.
Lent calls us to recognize that our desires - for expedience, for avoiding all kinds of discomfort, for knowing when we are ‘right’ and others are ‘wrong’ - get in the way of God’s desire for all of creation to thrive. Sin is the things we do, and don’t do, that separate us from the deep and abiding love of God, from the holy joy and curiosity that IS in us, from life-affirming relationships with ourselves and God and community that challenge and nourish us to grow. Admitting our sin, to ourselves and God, takes both courage and humility.
Fortunately, God loves us unfailingly, and always affirms our worthiness of wholeness and respect. When we acknowledge our sin and repent, God welcomes us back, wipes the mud from our eyes, and sends us out from the pool of the water of life to share the joy we know firsthand.
My sisters and brothers, beloved siblings in Christ, let it be so. Amen.
No comments:
Post a Comment