Blind (Day 35 of Lent)

"I came into the world to bring everything into the clear light of day, making all the distinctions clear, so that those who have never seen will see, and those who have made a great pretense of seeing will be exposed as blind."  John 9:39

The art of writing can be used as a way to hurt people.  This is my experience, and it goes back a long way.  It had to do with what I claimed was true.  Accepting whatever doctrines or claims that came my way as a kid and teenager, I inherited a faith that was not my own.  Because of that, I was never introduced to the art of questioning.  And yes, questioning is an art form.  In my experience in the Christian faith, I've met two types of people - those who claim the truth and those who acknowledge they don't know anything about God but believe in Him.  I can claim allegiance to both sides.

In today's passage, these two types of people are presented to us in the restoration of the blind man.  In the passage before, we are told that Jesus made a paste out of his spit and dirt, and rubbed it on the man's eyes.  After he went and washed it out in the pool of Siloam, he could see for the first time ever.  The Pharisees couldn't believe it, so they interrogated the man and his parents.  Over and over again, the man told the Pharisees that he didn't know who opened his eyes or where Jesus came from.  The Pharisees weren't satisfied.  They told the man, "We know for sure that God spoke to Moses, our ancestor, but this man (Jesus) is an impostor."  

Because the Pharisees "knew" that God had spoken to Moses, they called themselves disciples of Moses.  They were completely close-minded to the possibility that God could use other people as well. Since the ten commandments and hundreds of other laws came through Moses, they devoted their lives to those laws.  They were so devoted that they actually boxed themselves into a way of life that was completely closed off to any new, "threatening" ideas and perspectives.  

We're told that the blind man didn't know anything about God or Jesus.  When the Pharisees said that Jesus was an impostor, the man said, "That's neither here nor there.  I don't know anything about that.  All I know for sure is that I was blind but now I see."  In fact, Jesus asks the man (who he had just healed by the way) if he believed in the Son of Man.  The man asked, "Can you point him out to me so I can believe?"  Jesus responded, "You're looking right at him."  The scriptures say that when this happened, the man worshiped Jesus.  

At the end of the passage, Jesus says he came to do two things:  Expose the blindness of the ones who claim to know everything, and to bring sight to the ones who couldn't see all along.  

Are we blind or do we know everything?  

Here are some of the thought processes that went on in my own head when I "knew everything":  I was always right; homosexuals were going to hell; God hated divorce; God demanded good works from me; the more I did, the more God loved me; everything I believed was right and true; people who thought differently than me were wrong and needed to be corrected.  

There is another side of the spectrum in "knowing everything" as well.  Some of those thought processes are:  There is no God; God hates me; Jesus wasn't real; God is wrathful; Christians are hypocrites; religion is false; Mormonism is a cult; Muslims are false prophets.

Then, we have blindness.  Blindness is like a spiritual poverty.  We understand deep in our bones that we don't have what it takes to get through this life on our own, but we can't possibly understand or know who God is or what he/she is like.  We've been told by those who "know everything" that God is like this or like that, and we have even believed it for a time.  We find out though that the less we know, the more we believe.  We find ourselves unable to claim any sort of truth about God or Jesus.  When conversations come up about God, and people talk about him as if they've talked with him personally, we feel left out.  We sense deep in our hearts that we have a spiritual connection with a power greater than ourselves, but we just can't put into terms well enough to have a fluid conversation about it.  We have way more questions than answers.  In fact, we don't really have any answers, just beliefs.  

As much as I would like to claim that those who "know everything" are wrong, I'm not going to do that here.  What Jesus tells us is that he's come to restore the sight of both sides of the fence.  The only difference is that the ones who know everything must first have their blindness exposed so their sight can be restored.  Those who are already blind and don't know anything about God or anything spiritual or religious, are the ones who are waiting for restored sight - who are seeking truth but just can't see it.  

I used to say that religion is oppressive and puts a box around everything.  I don't think that anymore.  Religion doesn't make decisions for people, people make decisions for themselves.  It's people who oppress and put a box around everything, religious or not.  Atheists and agnostics can be just as close-minded as Christians, and close-mindedness is like saying "I know everything."  As dark as it may seem at first, open-mindedness is like journeying with no sight.  The mind's eye gives shadowy recollections of possibilities and intuitions, leading us clumsily down a path that is uncertain.  It's scary walking in the pitch black not knowing which way to turn or what's right in front of us.  However, the more we walk in the dark, the more we develop a faith that something or someone is guiding us.  We can't attribute characteristics or personalities to this essence, but our hearts beat in tune with a rhythm that wasn't there before.  We are blind, but we somehow see.