Do You See It?

The Rev. Kathi Johnson

A Lent 4 – 26 March 2017

Text: John 9:1-41

Our Redeemer Lutheran Church, Grand Prairie, Texas

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One lesson that I have struggled with over the past several years is how much our life circumstances influence our perspective or how we see things. What do I mean by this…?

I mean that – even as adults - the circumstances into which we have been born influence our perspective, as do our circumstances growing up as children. Someone born into a poor family has a different perspective than someone born into a rich family. Someone who grew up on a farm has a different perspective than someone who grew up in a city. Our different races, cultures, religious expressions, languages, physical abilities, generations – all of these, and more, shape each of us to see the world in certain ways, and to experience the world in certain ways.

Notice, please, that I’m not placing a value judgment on any one perspective or life experience over another.

To today’s gospel story – the man born blind has had a different life than those around him. He’s been blind for all his life, so for all his life, he’s had to learn how to live in a world full of sighted people.

Not only that, but he’s had to deal with the common assumption at the time which said that he (or his parents) must’ve sinned in some way for him to be born blind. So, not only is he dealing with a physical reality – his own blindness – but he’s dealing with the people around him assuming that he’s done something wrong to bring this upon himself.

Even Jesus’ own disciples ask Jesus whose sin caused this condition. So this was common thinking at the time. And Jesus tries to change their perspective – “No, no, no. That’s not it at all. His blindness gives us the chance to see God at work, first hand! Look!”

Then Jesus smears mud on the blind man’s face, and tells him to go wash, which he does. And for the first time in his life, the man born blind can see.

Then enter into our story a group with yet another perspective: the Pharisees. Their perspective is one that focuses on the Laws of God. That’s why they’re all wound up about Jesus healing someone on the Sabbath. In their perspective, Jesus is a sinner because he has done this deed on the day which is set apart for resting.

So they question the man and then go to his parents (as if he can’t answer for himself), and the parents don’t really want to deal with their questions, so they send the Pharisees back to their son.

The Pharisees are trying to pin their idea of sin onto Jesus. And the man born blind has the perfect response: “I do not know whether he is a sinner. One thing I do know, that though I was blind, now…I see.”

This man who has been blind not only has his physical blindness removed, but he begins, too, to see Jesus – not only as the one who has healed him, but as the One sent by God – the One for whom they have been waiting. His experience of his physical world has been completely changed – he has a new perspective – and his experience of God has changed, too, because here is God-in-the-flesh, rubbing mud in his eyes, and taking away his blindness.

This change in perspective is what Paul is writing about in today’s epistle lesson, too. “Once you were darkness,” Paul says, “But now in the Lord you are light. [So…] Live as children of the light!” Our lives in Christ should change our whole perspective – our whole vision - so that we see our lives as God sees them.

Think about how much our perspective changes just from flipping on a light switch in a dark room. It is one thing to stumble around in the darkness, tripping over furniture or dogs or rugs on the floor. But – we have the light! Why stumble around? Just turn on the light!

Recently, I’ve had several people in my life who have lost loved ones. And in each case, yes, there has, of course, been sadness and grief. But mixed in with that grief has been the perspective that we have as Christians: that God is present, even in someone’s death – and that God gives comfort and peace to those who are still living.

It reminds me of a letter that my dad wrote to family and friends after he had been diagnosed with a brain tumor. Throughout the letter, he sought to explain what was happening medically, and then he ended on a note of where he was spiritually, referring to Philippians 4:7 – that, even in the midst of his illness, he had been given the peace that surpasses all understanding.

Our lives are caught up in Christ. Our lives are caught up in the love of God. Do you see it?

“Once you were darkness,” Paul says, “But now in the Lord you are light. [So…] Live as children of the light!” Our lives in Christ should change our whole perspective – our whole vision - so that we see not only our own lives, but we also see the world as God sees it.

I’ll say again – for the third time this Lent – remember: “God so loved the world…”? That is God’s vision: God’s love for the world. Do you see it?

I close today with this Celtic prayer, and I invite you again to close your eyes as I pray:

God to enfold me,

God to surround me,

God in my speaking,

God in my thinking.

God in my sleeping,

God in my waking,

God in my watching,

God in my hoping.

God in my life,

God in my lips,

God in my soul,

God in my heart.

God in my sufficing,

God in my slumber,

God in mine ever-living soul,

God in mine eternity.

Amen.

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Who is Worthy of Our Compassion?

C Lectionary 26 

Our Redeemer Lutheran Church, Grand Prairie, Texas

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When reading today’s parable about the Rich Man and Lazarus, it is good to remember the purpose of the parables of Jesus. Dr. David Lose is the President of our ELCA seminary in Philadelphia, and he is a prolific Lutheran biblical commentator. In his explanation of this parable, he reminds us that the parables of Jesus don’t give us the whole picture, but rather just a glimpse of the Kingdom of God[1].

So, the parables are not meant to be predictive, but rather they reveal to us some greater truth about God and God’s kingdom. In the case of this parable, which only appears in the Gospel of Luke, the greater truth that is revealed is God’s concern for the poor.

The Gospel of Luke, more than the other three gospel books, tends to focus on reversals of expectations. It begins back in the first chapter of Luke, with the Song of Mary – which we call the Magnificat. Mary says that God has scattered the proud in the imagination of their hearts, that God has brought down the powerful and exalted the humble, and filled those who are hungry and sent the rich away empty. All reversals of expectations…

Later in chapter one, it is Zechariah – the father of John the Baptist – who says that God will give light to those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death. It is in the Gospel of Luke that we find Jesus the most focused upon the poor, the sick, the demon-possessed – those whom society has cast out or forgotten - those who lie at the gates of the rich, ignored and passed by.

That was Lazarus in our story today. We are given grotesque details about his health, and while we might think of dogs as being cute and cuddly, in Jesus’ time, dogs were seen as filthy animals, not fit to spend time around humans. The dogs licking Lazarus is a part of the story meant to underscore his extreme poverty. He is not only poor, but he is exceedingly poor.

Contrast this with the rich man – the rich, unnamed man – who dresses in purple and fine linen. These details show us that he is very rich indeed, for only the most wealthy people could afford to wear purple, which was an expensive color to produce. Jesus says that the rich man eats his fill and then some every single day – he has more than enough. He is not only rich, but he is exceedingly rich.

Jesus uses these strong images to describe these two men in order to set them apart from one another – far apart – across a great chasm.

When they die, another chasm exists between the two men. Lazarus now knows only comfort, and the rich man now knows only torment – a reversal of expectations. The rich man begs Abraham to send Lazarus to warn his five brothers who are still living – to warn them not to make the mistakes he did. He wants Lazarus to tell them to pay attention to the poor among them, to care for the poor as he did not during his life.

But Abraham reminds him that Moses and the prophets have plenty to say about caring for the poor – maybe his brothers should listen to them. The rich man knows his brothers won’t listen to Moses or the prophets, so he wants a more powerful witness than that – send them Lazarus! Send them someone who has died and come back to life! Surely they will listen to someone who has risen from the dead!

And Jesus ends his parable with one heck of a punch line: If they do not listen to Moses and the prophets, neither will they be convinced even if someone rises from the dead.

In listening to this parable, we can feel sorry for Lazarus at the beginning of the story and for the rich man at the end of the story. But beyond our sympathy, we should also realize that we are like the five brothers of the rich man. We are the ones who are still living. We are the ones who still have a chance to listen to the voice of one who has risen from the dead. We are the ones who are called to listen to the voice of Jesus, who says that the greatest commandments are to love God and to love our neighbor.

The chasm between rich and poor still exists and has only grown wider since Jesus’ time. But more concerning than that is another chasm that exists, even among Christian people: there is a chasm between those whom we think are worthy of our compassion, and those whom we think are unworthy of our compassion.

And yet we are all bound together as one human family, and as Christians, we recognize that we are loved by a compassionate God who, in turn, calls us to extend compassion to others – through our prayers for them, our understanding of their sufferings, and our loving deeds on their behalf.

St. Gregory the Great lived in Italy in the 6^th century - a time of great upheaval. A plague swept across the region, killing close to a third of the population. There was tremendous political unrest, as well. Yet in these most difficult of circumstances, Gregory realized that we are all connected, one to another. He said, “When we are linked by the power of prayer, we…hold each other’s hand as we walk side by side on a slippery path, and thus by the bounteous disposition of love, it comes about that the harder each one leans on the other, the more firmly we are riveted together in brotherly love.”

It’s an interesting image, isn’t it – the image of two people leaning into one another while they walk on the edge of a slippery slope? I feel as though so much of our public discourse today focuses more on giving that other person a good shove, instead. And yet, Gregory the Great has captured beautifully the image of the Christian life as it should be – individuals, who are linked by prayer, which binds us together in the great love of Christ.

As for you, pursue righteousness, godliness, faith, love, endurance, and gentleness. Fight the good fight of the faith. To God be honor and eternal dominion. Amen.

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[1] workingpreacher.org, 2013