Here's Mud in Your Eye

The Rev. Nancy E. Gossling

Psalm 23, John 9: 1-6

4 Lent 2020

“As Jesus walked along, he saw a man blind from birth. His disciples asked him, “Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?” Jesus answered, “Neither this man nor his parents sinned; he was born blind so that God’s works might be revealed in him.” When he had said this, he spat on the ground and made mud with the saliva and spread the mud on the man’s eyes, saying to him, “Go, wash in the pool of Siloam” (which means Sent). Then he went and washed and came back able to see.” (John 9: 1-6)

We all have blind spots. Waiting impatiently in loneliness, seeing only death and disease, we cannot see the beauty of the world all around us. We walk by others, offering no eye contact let alone a handshake. We are blind to possibilities; our minds, like our doors, are closed in fear. And when we hear the escalating news about the coronavirus or the deescalating news about our economy, that death rates are climbing, businesses have been shuttered, borders are closed, and people are being quarantined, we feel blindsided. Like the blind man in John’s gospel, we have mud in our eyes.

            I love the movie “The Blind Side” which chronicles the true life story of “Michael Oher, a homeless black teen, who drifted in and out of the school system for years. At least until Leigh Anne Tuohy and her husband, Sean, take him in. Michael's tremendous size and protective instincts make him a formidable force on the gridiron, and with help from his new family and devoted tutor, he realizes his potential as a student and football player.” (Wikipedia)

            The movie takes its name from a football reality called “the blind side.” When a quarterback turns his body in one direction in order to complete a pass, he leaves his body vulnerable to an attack from the blind side. He cannot see what is coming at him, and therefore, he is unable to protect himself from injury. The risk of fumbles increases, and the reality of chaos and human pile-ons ensues. Being blind and being blindsided pose their risks.

            “Margaret of Castello was born sometime in 1287, blind with a severe curvature of the spine that inhibited her walking. Her parents resolved to hide her away, so that her appearance could not bring shame to the family honor. Her mother and her husband took Margaret to a Franciscan friar who was performing miracle cures in Castello in hopes of a “cure.” But after two attempts, no cure was forthcoming. Frustrated and embarrassed, the parents abandoned their daughter in Castello and went home.”

“Margaret resolutely refused to die. The local beggars in town took pity on her and taught her how to beg so she could feed herself. She began teaching the street children how to read and taught them different prayers. She also watched children while their parents worked, essentially running a medieval daycare.” (Megan Castellan, Lent Madness)

In those days, and in the days of Jesus, not to mention today, people are rejected and abandoned, live in extreme poverty, suffer repeated abuse and indignities, and are often left to die. At times like these, we fumble the ball. We scramble for this or that in the chaos; and we desperately look for a quarterback or savior who will throw that “Hail Mary” pass for the win. Forgetting the reality of our term limits, we seek people and powers to save us, and forget the power that lies within us and all around us and ultimately in God. We forget to dig deep like Margaret of Costello; we forget to help others like the Tuohys.

 At times, we are all blind to our vulnerability and fragility, not to mention our privileges and blessings, at least until a pandemic reminds us otherwise. Indeed, we are all disabled in one way or another. Bottom line? We all need God’s grace.  Blinded by the mud in our eyes, we despair as people without hope; and Christianity is, above all, a way of seeing. It is the transformation of our vision so that when we are blinded by sin, or blindsided by life’s events, we can use the eyes of our hearts to see. Listening with the ears of our faith, we can hear the voice of Jesus, telling us to go and wash the mud from our eyes, so that others might see the glory of God at work in our world. We can be Sent.

The expression “Here’s mud in your eye!” actually has a positive meaning. It means “Cheers! Bottoms up!” Even at a social distance, we can hold fast to the promise of eternal life revealed to us in the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus. Victory is ours. Death, where is your sting? Raising our glasses of celebration, we can also invite others to drink deeply of God’s Spirit. Bottoms up!

So “Here’s mud in your eye!” I say. After you have washed your hands for 20 seconds, open your eyes to see the power of God at work in the world all around us, even now, even in you. Virtual or real, God’s grace is there. For, as the psalmist once proclaimed, “The Lord is our shepherd; we shall not be in want. God revives our souls and guides us along the right pathways for God’s Name's sake. Though we walk through the valley of the shadow of death, we shall fear no evil; for you are with us; your rod and your staff, they comfort us. Surely your goodness and mercy shall follow us all the days of our lives, and we will dwell in the house of the Lord for ever.” (Psalm 23) Cheers!