Spiritual Vision

Church of the Redeemer, Chestnut Hill

The Rev. Nancy E. Gossling

Job 42:1-6, 10-17

Psalm 34:1-8, (19-22)

Hebrews 7:23-28

Mark 10:46-52

Frederick Douglass once said,“Behind the seen lies the unseen.” Let us pray.

Help us to see again, O Lord. Amen.

According to the website “Exploring Your Mind,” the “invisible gorilla experiment has become a psychology classic. Although it was conducted for the first time in 1999, it’s still cited as a typical example of the limitations of perception. It also illustrates how people don’t like to accept the fact that they’re often blind to the world around them.” 

Human beings are wonderfully made, and yet we are limited. We see things differently and in a variety of ways. “I see”, we will say, when we begin to understand something. “I see you,” we will say, when we acknowledge another person’s reality. Or “I see that you have needs” and then we load our carts with food for the Fuel program. We ask prayers for healing; we write a check to support our church and non-profits; and we offer our comfort to those who are grieving. People may even see our good works.

Our eyes can virtually see people in real time and real space. When I’m angry or passionate about something, you can see it in my eyes. My daughter calls them my “beady eyes.” Maybe we will cast a “stink eye” or an “evil eye” on another person to express our disapproval. I have found that distance from an event helps me see it differently or in fuller ways. When William Shatner saw our world from outer space, he was left speechless. And then we have our spiritual eye, sometimes called our 3rd eye, the one that can see things other-worldly, maybe even heavenly. 

To state the obvious, if our eyes are healthy, we can see. If we’re blind, like Bartimaeus, we cannot. Now there are many reasons for blindness. Unlike ancient times, we know that blindness is not a punishment from God. Instead, blindness can be a result of things like accidents, diseases, medical conditions, and genetics. Our blindness can be immediate and irreversible, or it may be progressive, changing slowly over time. For better or worse.

Blindness may heighten our senses. Sometimes we hear things more clearly, like Bartimaeus knowing that Jesus was approaching. We may see people differently. “When we label others, we stop seeing them as they are,” wrote Brother David from SSJE.  As Helen Keller once said, “The best and most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen or even touched. They must be felt with the heart.”  

The gospel of Mark reveals the potential for our spiritual blindness. In it, there are two stories about blind men. Both men are physically blind and both are healed by Jesus, one slowly, and one very quickly. As the gospel progresses, however, the disciples of Jesus become increasingly blind to who Jesus was and what he was all about.

On some levels, we’re all spiritually blind. We have vision problems when we see life from a narrow and limited perspective; or when we see only what is important to us personally. The influences of our family and religious upbringings, our social and cultural dynamics, and our political identities may determine our perceptions of God, humanity, and our world. We can see only blue or red, black or white, forgetting that God created a rainbow of colors. We’re often blind to our own transgressions; we can clearly see the speck in the other person’s eye and not the log in our own. 

The transformation of my own spiritual blindness has been both dramatic and slow. And it’s ever-changing. Occasionally, I have seen Jesus up close and personal, as if I’m sitting in the chair of my eye doctor. Sometimes I have seen Jesus from a distance or not at all. Often I will need to rely upon the good eyesight of others to help me spiritually.

Recently, I’ve heard some people say that they’ve been feeling like Job lately. Certainly, with events in our country and around the world, the story of Job comes to mind for many of us. We often come to realize how blind we are to the suffering of others, until suffering comes into our own lives. In fact the pandemic has brought that suffering home to all of us.

My husband Paul and I have been blessed beyond measure; and yet our greatest learning about God, Jesus, and the Holy Spirit came through our own suffering. Our picket fences didn't protect us from breakthrough diseases and human challenges; and yet they strengthened our faith, hope, and love in God. Time and time again, amazing grace, how sweet the sound. We were blind and could not see. We were lost and then were found.

Terrified by the raging storm all around them, the disciples once wondered, “Who is this man that even the winds and waves obey?” Jesus would cast out demons, heal the sick, open the eyes of the blind, and even raise the dead. And yet, for the most part, people were blind to who He was. His followers kept looking for a political king to save them; and the crowds were calling for economic reforms. Routinely, Jesus pointed to the need for religious reform.

Previous to today’s gospel passage, there is a rich man who wanted to inherit eternal life. When Jesus told him to go and sell what he owned, and give his money to the poor, the rich man could not do it. “It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than someone who is rich to enter the kingdom of God,” said Jesus, and to which His disciples cried out in fear, “Then who can be saved?” For having money meant having God's favor. And bad things happened only to bad people.

The bad news for all of us today, rich and poor people alike, is that we’re all doomed. As my spiritual director is fond of saying, “We’re all goners.”  Whether we see death from a distance, or up close and personal, we all face the cross eventually. And so, today, we are invited to see Jesus for who he was, and is, and is to come. Despite our spiritual blindness, we can still hear Jesus ask us today, “What do you want me to do for you?” And we can reply, “Let me see again.”

Jesus was seen in many ways and called by many names. He was the Son of Man and the Son of God, a teacher, prophet, priest, and king. He was also fully human like you and me. As Christians, we now see Jesus as our Messiah, the Lamb of God, who takes away the sins of the world and triumphs over evil and death. We see Jesus not as a powerful king riding in a golden chariot, or sitting behind shaded windows in a stretch-limo, but rather as a suffering servant, who wore a crown of thorns before he was nailed to the cross. 

For our sake, Jesus showed us the Way of Love and our path to eternal life. And so, the question for us today is not, “Then who can be saved? Or who will save us?” but rather, trusting in God for our salvation, “How then shall we live?”

We all have ways in which we try to protect ourselves from diseases, demons, disasters, and death. And while good medical care, money, and masks can help us, our dollar bills proclaim that in God we trust. Yes, we can look to our presidents and kings, our high priests and popes, our military powers and financial bank accounts, and even our human intelligence to save us; but you and I both know, ultimately they will all fail us in the end. 

  As St. Paul said to the church in Corinth, we see now only through a mirror dimly; and so we need help to see God’s mercy and grace. We may need the magnifying glasses of scripture to see our salvation story. We may need corrective lenses to believe in things beyond our physical sight. We may need the strength of our Christian communities to help us stand firm in our faith. For we are not goners after all; we are people of the resurrection.

Today, I see the Church differently. It is a place where I can see God in real time, with real people, and through real events. Church is a place where I can throw off my own cloak of fear, and share my stories of suffering and blessing. Over my lifetime, I have come to believe that God has the power to save me. And like Job once said to God, “I had heard of you, but now my eye sees you.”

Church is where I see Jesus face to face in communion. With my spiritual eye, I can see His Body and Blood on my outstretched hands, remembering how He stretched out His arms of love on the hard wood of the cross so that everyone might come within the reach of His saving embrace. 

Today, whether you are a newcomer or a long-timer, whether you are young or old, whether you are here in the sanctuary or joining us virtually, whether you are an Episcopalian or not, together we represent the Body of Christ. We are the head, the heart, the hands, and the feet of Jesus. We have eyes to see and ears to hear. We have hands to help and hearts to love, and we have been called by God for a purpose: to point to God’s amazing grace and to share our gifts of time, talent, and treasure with others. 

Samuel Wells, once said (quote) “Jesus walked slowly, purposefully, intentionally into the eye of the storm, because only through the storm would he find what he was truly looking for; and what he was looking for was us.” 

So here we are, sitting on the side of the road in Chestnut Hill, blind as bats, and begging for mercy. The author of Hebrews suggests that we look to Jesus, our great high priest, who intercedes for us even now. “Look upon him and be radiant, and let not your faces be ashamed.” For as Jesus once said to Bartimaeus, our “faith will make us well” and perhaps someday we shall see our Lord face to face  Amen.