In my final year in seminary, it was customary for you to go to a church looking for a pastor and offer there a “trial sermon.”  This was, of course, something you would spend a long time crafting, knowing your whole future might hang on how well your sermon was received.

 

A fellow classmate named Dwayne Steele went out to preach his trial sermon on John 9—the story of the man born blind. Dwayne Steele is blind. Now you can imagine that our whole campus was abuzz with this event.  How could a congregation hear about sight from a blind man and not call him to serve as their pastor?  Wouldn’t they have listened a little more than ordinarily because of who was preaching on this story?  Might a few eyes be opened, we wondered?

 

That congregation called Dwayne Steele to be their pastor.  I’m confident the spirit of Christ was at work that day he preached on John 9. I have to believe that they couldn’t believe what they saw that day!!  A blind man proclaiming the gift of sight.

 

What would we do if we saw a blind man no longer blind?  Would we have a hard time believing what we see?  Would we search for witnesses, for new evidence?  The long and complicated story of John 9 begs the question, “Who is really is blind here? The man or the ones who are sighted?”  The story ends with a tragically revealing question from the sighted, “Surely we are not blind, are we?”  And throughout this story, those who live in darkness work hard to insure they are right. Twice they bring in the man formerly blind. In between they hear testimony from his parents.  The answers are unacceptable… so they renounce the man as unworthy, sinful. And they do away with him, casting him out.

  

“You were born in utter sin and you would teach us?” (v. 34).  His sightedness is a threat!  So Jesus  who first came to this man with mud on his fingers finds him after being cast out.  “Do you believe in the son of man?”  Jesus asked.  “And who is he, sir, that I may believe in him?”  Jesus said to him, “You have seen him and it is he who speaks to you.”  The man said, “Lord, I believe.” And he worshipped Jesus.

 

In that day, to be sorrowful for being wrong meant putting on sackcloth.  As a result of this encounter, someone needs draping with sackcloth.  But the ones who need to see their sin, the religious leaders, find it easier to notice others’ sin, not their own.

 

They see with great certainty, but their eyes are not really open.  The Messiah would follow their rules, but Jesus healed on the sabbath.  Why couldn’t they see something else?  Why couldn’t they be glad with the blind man? Throw a party? Give thanks for the new life he now has? Celebrate?  Help him get his driver’s license? Put him on the road giving testimony?  Let him give a trial sermon?

 

The blind beggar healed on the Sabbath was a threat to them!  His healing, his liberation was an assault on their traditions, their values, their power, their very lives. They felt attacked.  And when we are threatened, we are reactive! We do not want to let go, holding tenaciously to what we know to be true. One slip, one exception, and everything we know would crumble.  Must one person’s liberation be another person’s threat? And when we are threatened, we do not see.  We trust hearsay and innuendo. We call in other witnesses who are likely to agree with us. And when all else fails, we discredit the person we find so threatening.  Must Jesus be so threatening?

 

I saw it as a youth in my home congregation, when during the 60’s we began receiving African-American members.  But the ruling powers objected—they didn’t want their church to embrace these new brothers and sisters.  Some would be sitting in their pews.  Did they have to be blind?  Could they not see the new thing God was doing?  And how about us?  What is the prevailing spirit of our congregations?  Many congregations have long talked about our embracing diversity… wanting to be more inclusive of others who

don’t look like us.  We want our churches to be salt, leaven – a beacon of light where young and old / abled and disabled / all races / all who profess Christ are welcome.  Do we see it?  The most diverse hours in the congregations I serve are 7-9pm on the last Friday night of the month when people come to the Coffee House. The Coffee House brings together persons with and without developmental delays.  On those Fridays, people who will never earn enough to live on, people of all races and abilities fill our

fellowship hall with life and love.  Here’s an example of what we have been hoping and praying for, but do we see it? Are we made blind by our schedules, by the pace of life, such that we have no energy to embrace the very thing we say we most value?

 

Whereas ours is not the blindness caused by the threat of others taking our pews, it may be a blindness nevertheless.  Does it have to be that way?  Often we are simply motivated because we like things the way they are. There is security in what’s known, what’s settled. We get comfortable and we like it. But the comfort can bring a subtle blindness. Our branch of the Lutheran tree has seen a dramatic shift in our communion practices. It used to be that communion was reserved till after confirmation. Then communion age was lowered to fifth grade. Now many of our churches are embracing infant communion.  It’s no longer comfortable for some of us. We begin to ask ourselves, “Aren’t there any rules anymore?”

 

Will it be a threat to us to see a 4 year old receive Jesus?  Will it make the gift of Holy Communion less holy?  Take away its power and significance?  Or is this the gift of life Jesus intended?  That he reach us all with his life giving presence.  Is Jesus threatening?  It matters a great deal if we have a certain picture of Jesus that we can no longer be surprised or changed or silenced by His presence.  It matters a great deal if we can never be glad for the blind man healed on the sabbath because we are busy looking up the laws in the book.  Or if we have a child reach up for Jesus beside us at the altar. Or if we begin to find Jesus fulfilling our prayers for diversity.  Jesus keeps saying to us, the sighted, “Go, wash in the pool of Siloam.”  Believe that the one sent you there can open your eyes to see someone you have never really seen before. This is the great challenge of our faith! This is the great privilege of learning to see, anew.

 

BY REV. DAVID SLOOP, PASTOR, GOOD

SHEPHERD LUTHERAN CHURCH, RALEIGH