Wednesday, October 27, 2021

On Recovering our Sight

 

On Recovering our Sight

October 27, 2021

 

One of the striking things about the Gospel stories of Jesus is how often they tell of him giving sight to the blind. There are six of them. They are:

 

·        Mark 8:22-26. Jesus heals a blind man at Bethsaida.

·        Mark 10:46b-52. Jesus heals blind Bartimaeus at Jericho.

·        Matthew 9:27-31. Jesus heals two blind men.

·        Matthew 20:29-34. Jesus heals two blind men at Jericho—Matthew’s version of the healing of Bartimaeus in Mark.

·        Luke 18:35-43. Jesus heals a blind beggar at Jericho—Luke’s version of the healing of Bartimaeus in Mark.

·        John 9:1-7. Jesus heals a man born blind.

 

Even when we consider that three of those stories are versions of the story of the one story of the healing of blind Bartimaeus, that’s quite a few stories of Jesus giving or restoring sight to blind people. Of course gaining or regaining one’s sight must be a great blessing for people who are blind. The Gospel writers certainly thought it important for them to include those stories in their proclamations of Jesus Christ that we call the Gospels. These stories, along with others of Jesus healing other maladies, present Jesus as a miracle healer.[1] Yet as I’ve said about so many Bible stories, these stories of Jesus giving sight to the blind don’t have that much to say to us if they are only about things that happened to other people a long time ago in place far away. The great Bible stories are still with us because they so often tell us things about our own lives and our relationship with God, not just about the people who appear in the stories. Sometimes what those ancient stories are about is pretty obvious. The most obvious lesson (there are several others) in the Parable of the Good Samaritan that we are to care for people in need and not pass by on the other side of the road is hard to miss. But what about those stories of Jesus giving sight to the blind? Do they have a meaning for us too? If there is one I don’t think that if there is one it is at all obvious. I mean, I have a granddaughter with a significant vision disability that will probably eventually make her blind. I don’t expect Jesus to come along and cure of that visual disability. I just don’t think God works that way. So if these stories have meaning for us it must be something other than “ask Jesus to cure physical blindness, and Jesus will cure physical blindness.” What might that other meaning be?

In answering that question we begin by understanding that the power and meaning of most Bible stories for us appear when we stop thinking of them merely as factual statements about something the supposedly once happened to other people. Thinking about Bible stories only as facts about other people deprives them of most of their power and meaning. Before the European Enlightenment of the seventeenth through the nineteenth centuries CE and the Scientific Revolution that was a significant part of it reduced truth to fact—and if you think only facts are true it’s because of those two revolutionary developments in the western world—while they understood Bible stories to be factually true, they also knew the value of reading those stories as more than mere facts. Sometimes they called that other way of reading allegory. Today some scholars call it historical metaphor. The theologically correct term for many Bible stories is myth, with myth understood to mean a story that points beyond itself to God and functions to connect us with God and God with us. Others are best understood simply as metaphors for something other than what is actually in them. Whatever you call it, the important thing is that Bible stories come alive for us when we get over thinking of them as mere fact and plumb them for deeper meaning than mere factual meaning.

For me at least the stories of Jesus giving sight to the blind come alive when we think of them as metaphors. But a metaphor for what? For, I think, the way in which all of us are metaphorically blind and the way Jesus can metaphorically grant us sight too. By blindness understood as metaphor I mean the way in which we all are to a greater or lesser extent morally and spiritually blind. We live according to the ways of the world not the ways of God. We don’t see God’s truth. We have scales over our eyes, scales of philosophical materialism, nationalism, the idolatry of wealth and power, selfishness, tribalism prejudice, and so many other false things that the world presents to us as true.[2] Most of us have physical sight. Nearly all of us lack spiritual sight. Most of us know the ways of the world, far too few of us know and are committed to following the ways of God. Most of us are indeed morally and spiritually blind.

The Gospel stories of Jesus giving sight to the blind don’t say they’re metaphors. There are however a couple of things about them that suggest, if only weakly, that their authors may have thought of them as metaphors. In Mark’s story of the healing of Bartimaeus the blind beggar Bartimaeus calls Jesus “my teacher.” Mark 10:51. The words rabbi in Hebrew and rabbouni in Aramaic, Jesus’ native language, both mean teacher. Bartimaeus calls Jesus his rabbi, his rabbouni. It is a rather odd thing for Bartimaeus to call him. As far as we’re told Jesus and Bartimaeus had never met before their encounter on the road out of Jericho. Until then, while Bartimaeus apparently had heard of Jesus he had never spent any time with him. Yet Bartimaeus calls Jesus “my teacher.” Consider also that all of the people to whom Jesus gives sight are men. Men studied with rabbis. Women didn’t (except in Luke’s story of Mary and Martha, but never mind). Is there a suggestion here that we are to consider Jesus to be a rabbi, a teacher, who can cure our spiritual blindness the way he restores physical sight to people in these stories? Perhaps.

In any event, if in these stories physical blindness is a metaphor for our spiritual blindness, for the worldly scales over our eyes, then Jesus curing people of their physical blindness must be a metaphor for how he can take the scales from our eyes and give us true moral and spiritual sight. How could Jesus restore our spiritual sight? He can’t if all we focus on about him are his suffering, death, and resurrection the way so much of Christianity does. He can if we will pay attention to his teachings, that part of what he offers us to which we so often pay lip service and never live into. It’s not that Jesus’ Passion isn’t important. It is, but it’s his teachings that can really remove the scales from our eyes if we’ll just listen to them and heed them.

What is that teaching? It is essentially turning nearly everything in the world upside down. It is what Jesus called the kingdom of God (which some of us today prefer to call the realm of God because we don’t like the connotations of the word kingdom). It is replacing violence with nonviolence, with creative, assertive, nonviolent resistance to evil. It is putting “the least of these” first and making those the world puts first last. It is focusing on the life of the spirit more than on physical life in the world. It is making God our God, our ultimate concern, and not any of the idols the world is always offering us, idols of nation, wealth, power, and the other lies we get from the world as though they were actually worth having and striving for. It is spending time in prayer and sabbath, not working ourselves to death in the pursuit of money and power.  It is caring for those in need and nonviolently deconstructing the world’s systems of oppression and injustice. It is nonviolently replacing those systems with systems of freedom for all and true distributive justice so that all God’s people have enough to live on.

Folks, if we would just take all of that teaching of Jesus to heart and live into it the world’s scales would fall from our eyes. We would see life anew and aright. We would walk in the true light of God rather than in the false light of the world. We would see the world the way God wants us to see the world. We would replace hatred with love, and doing that alone would transform the world. So let us come to realize how morally and spiritually blind we are, how morally and spiritually blind our world is. Let’s turn to Jesus and ask him to remove the scales from our eyes. Then let’s join him in the sacred work of gaining true sight and transforming the world into that reign of God of which Jesus said so much. May it be so.



[1] The ancient world had many people who performed healings or at least were reputed to do so. John Dominic Crossan says that what was unique about Jesus wasn’t that he healed people, it was the he didn’t charge for it.

[2] I am indebted to Joseph Campbell for the scales metaphor I use here.

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