Broken Perspective

*note*: I never proof-read. I started this Monday, continued it Wednesday morning, and finished it Wednesday afternoon. I hope it’s not too disjointed.

Remember the abdominal pain I talked about last week? It happened again Sunday night. I hope this doesn’t become a constant thing. At least it’s just once a week, maybe I could live with that…

I started writing this Monday, but never finished. Actually, I never really got started I wrote the first two paragraphs (which are now the first and third) and got stuck. I have some notes I wanted to use, but they are at home and I am at work.

Let’s continue our Lenten journey to the cross. Yesterday’s gospel reading was John 9:1-41. The passage includes Jesus’ healing of a man blind since birth, and the Pharisee’s response to that healing.

My theme for these Lenten writings has been brokenness. Lent, in case your unfamiliar (I guess I should’ve done this two weeks ago) is the 40 days leading up to Easter. During this time we focus on the cross. We are building to the resurrection, and you can’t, of course, have a resurrection without death. As we focus on the cross the reality of our brokenness becomes apparent; hence the theme. I wrote about my own brokenness that kept me from God (which is, of course something we all experience). I wrote about broken relationships. OK, I don’t feel like being fancy so let’s cut to the chase. This week we have a broken perspective.

During Lent, we reflect upon our own sinfulness. Not in an “Oh, woe is me; I’m a horrible human being” kind of way. Instead we take this time to remember that we are in need of salvation. We look to the cross for the reminder of our brokenness, and we look toward the empty tomb for restoration to wholeness. I’m getting ahead of myself. Back to our story.

Last week’s passage deals with a man blind since birth. “As he walked along, [Jesus] saw a man blind since birth.” As soon as they see him the disciples ask, “Whose sin caused this man’s blindness; his or his parents?” Actually, in true thickheaded form, the (often clueless) disciples ask, “…who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?” Really? You want to know if this man was born blind because he sinned? Aye yi yi! Sorry, I got off point. You see where the disciples’ focus is?

It’s not in the text, but I expect Jesus’ initial response was a huge sigh. Maybe he pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head. He responds in a form true to John’s Jesus; with a sort of riddlish answer. Then he spits in the dirt, rubs the mud on the blind man’s eyes and tells him to go wash it off. He does as he’s told and is healed.

Then the Pharisees get involved. Upon learning that Jesus healed the blind man, they immediately begin questioning the man, his parents, the people who knew him, the man again. Their focus? Sinners. “Jesus is a sinner; how could he heal you?” “You are obviously a sinner since you were born blind.” Do you see their broken perspective? These guys are bent on finding the sin involved here. So determined, in fact, that they miss the miracle of God’s loving action toward the blind man.

Jesus, being Jesus, calls them out. And does so in typical “John’s Jesus” fashion, which is to say, with vague ambiguity. (Wait, would vague ambiguity be like a double negative. If you are vaguely ambiguous does that mean you’re just barely ambiguous? Therefore you’re mostly forthcoming?) “Some of the Pharisees near him heard this and said to him, ‘Surely we are not blind, are we?’ Jesus said to them, ‘If you were blind, you would not have sin. But now that you say, “We see”, your sin remains.’” Whatchu talkin’ bout, Jesus? (That’s how I imagine the Pharisees and the Disciples respond to most of what Jesus says. I could be wrong.)

In other words, “You are so busy looking for sin in everyone and every situation that you’ve missed… everything.” By trying so hard to ‘see’ they’ve become ‘blind.’ Blind to their own sin. Blind to their need for God’s grace. Blind to their need for God to work a miracle in their lives (i.e. the miracle of salvation).

I find it interesting that the Pharisees and the Disciples have the same basic reaction to the blind man. “Who sinned?” Instead of seeing a need and meeting the need, they debate over why the need exists. (Sound familiar?)

If you look for yourself in this story, who are you? The Disciples? The Pharisees? The blind man? The on-lookers who take the man to the Pharisees?

I think most of us are Pharisees. We spend way too much time thinking about who did what with whom. “That guys an alcoholic. She cheated on her husband. He beats his kids. She’s gay. They had sex before they got married.” We get so caught up in worrying about everyone around us that we forget about us. Which actually is quite convenient.

That brings us back to Lent. When we look to the cross. When we remember that we are broken. When we acknowledge our need for forgiveness. And maybe when we remember our own brokenness we’ll start to see those with whom we’ve been so obsessed with compassion. Maybe we’ll realize they need grace, just like us. Maybe we’ll learn to love our neighbor, because when it comes right down to it: they are us.