Without Watching

Without Watching

(“Whether he is a sinner or not, I couldn’t tell, but one thing I am sure of,” the man replied, “I used to be blind, now I can see!” John 9:25)

I’ve got nothing in my pockets except
shredded tissue that went through the wash.
I do the laundry now and my wife works.
She always emptied each pocket and
turned the clothing inside-out.

I haven’t filled up my car for a year and a half;
barely have driven except to see doctors and visit
an occasional mockingbird. I stay home now while my wife works.
She always detailed the car and never left napkins on the seats.
I forgot where the gas cap latch was when I filled it for the first time
yesterday
in a year and a half.

I live too much behind me. I mean decades behind me. I live with
stagecraft in my head, leading ladies and drama buddies, high school
presumptions and productions we took more seriously than calculus or
french IV. Every time we practiced, every time we performed,
donning burlap sacks of characters on a page,
we met truer than when using our own names.
My past flows through a funnel. Area codes are transposed,
and everyone I know from the best time of life
are mere digital connections; though for some of us,
the love has only deepened as we spoke each others’ names.

I haven’t stood behind a pulpit for over a year. I may never again.
I may forget decorum and study. I may become lazy and cry away
the mistakes, age and pain that did me in. I may never preach again.

Sometimes sight comes without watching,
blindness is cured while we lie in the mud.
Sometimes we were born that way, sometimes the sky
merely darkened, and others have closed their eyes because
perception is too frightening. I have been blind because
of everything.

Sometimes the good news becomes noon day and smells of
apple pie golden in the windowsill. Sometimes gospel is more than
pianos and banjos
and is heard in every birdsong sung to you from beginning
to end. Sometimes seeing is just spit and mud
in the hands of the Human One who rarely announces his name.

So we wash our clothes, empty our pockets, fuel our cars,
long for tacos our best friend’s mother always set out for
the half dozen always just showing up. We sit by the water,
we breathe the pastry baking, we hear music divine played by
earthlings like us, human or not

And hope one day, unexpectedly, the tears will clear,
the light will enter, the love will engulf and we shall
know as we are known; clothed or unclothed, named or
anonymous.

The Wrong Question

The Wrong Question

“’I don’t know whether he’s a sinner or not,’ replied the man. ‘All I know is this: I used to be blind, and now I can see.’” John 9:25

We are all influenced by our perceptions. And, when we are young, we often have little cognitive ability to tell the difference between what we have taught is right and what might actually be true. I was fortunate to grow up in a home that taught racial equality as a core value. That was unusual at the time, born in 1955 and growing up in the 60s with both parents from the South. Dad was born in Missouri; Mom in Oklahoma and I was born in Texas. We moved to Southern California when I was in second grade.

But I also knew, as a child, the attitudes of some of my peers. Growing up in a small West Texas oil town, we had a mix of Mexican and White families. I remember quite vividly walking home from school with friends when they saw a dark-skinned classmate ahead of us. They all said we needed to walk on the other side of the street. My friends were not born with the perception; they were taught.

In John chapter 9 we have a story of the religious rulers who cannot get past their false religious perceptions and assumptions. Jesus heals a man who has been blind from birth, a most unusual healing, and the only one recorded of congenital blindness. Not even the disciples are immune from false perceptions.  They ask, “Whose sin was it that caused this man to be born blind? Did he sin, or did his parents?”

First of all, does it strike you strange that the ask about a man blind from birth if his ailment was a result of personal sin? Our presumptions can take us to outrageous and nonsensical ideas. They also ask about the parents, which is more reasonable. But Jesus tears down their entire argument at its base.

“He didn’t sin, nor did his parents.” Take that in, please! Jesus puts to rest the whole idea that catastrophe is some evidence of God’s displeasure. No, hurricanes are not cause by homosexuals. Floods are not caused by unmarried sex. And tornadoes are not caused by abortions. By this reasoning, the United States would have been destroyed many times over for its genocide of Native Americans and its enslavement and dehumanization of African Americans. Sin does have consequences; but most often, they are the natural bad results from evil.

And, by the way, do you notice that those who want to attribute catastrophe to God’s judgment have a very narrow list of the sins God is pissed about? Why? Perception, assumption, just like the religious leaders in our story.

They did not like Jesus much. In fact, that say he is from the devil and a sinner more than once in this story. Why would people who were supposed to lead the nation to God be so jealous and blind when the Son of God appears? One reason is that He disassembled their perceptions about God, sin, and righteousness.

They, like the disciples, assumed there were “righteous” and “unrighteous” people. The righteous got God’s blessing, the unrighteous his wrath. They didn’t like the story where Jesus describes a religious leader going into the temple, praying the way that good religious leaders do:

“God, I thank you that I am not like the other people – greedy, unjust, immoral, or even like this tax-collector. I fast twice in the week; I give tithes of all that I get.” (Luke 18:11-12) Maybe you have heard similar prayers in your church. Maybe not. Hopefully not. But the sentiment permeates much of evangelical thinking. “Look at me and how good I am for God!”

The tax-collector referred to in the Pharisee’s prayer stood a long way off, not even lifting up his eyes to heaven. Beating his breast, he prayed simply: “God, be merciful to me, sinner that I am.”

Jesus says this man was the one who went home vindicated by God and not the other. The Pharisees didn’t like that.

They didn’t like that Jesus made a hated Samaritan the hero in his story about being good neighbors. They were offended that He did good to outsiders: lepers, tax-collectors, prostitutes, those outside of Israel’s elect. They were angry that He didn’t kowtow to their religious power, but advocated, not a violent overthrow of oppression, but the peaceful reign of God.

So, with all their false perceptions, these “leaders” cannot even recognize that this healing of a man blind from birth could ever be from God. Why? Because Jesus did it!

The Pharisees call the healed man and say, “Give God the glory! We know that this man (Jesus) is a sinner!” To which the man replies, “All I know is this: I used to be blind, and now I can see.”

When you see grace permeating someone’s life, can you open your heart to the possibility that Christ is involved? When you see someone who acts in compassion toward those who can give back nothing, can you suppose they might be working for the Kingdom of God? Jesus called Samaritans, sinners, tax collectors, prostitutes and the like to be His people.

Jesus is knocking at the door of the church. Please don’t let rigid religious assumptions, a self-righteous attitude toward sin, or an unholy nationalism keep you from seeing what Jesus is doing. And once you see what He is doing, jump on board. The ride may be scary at first, but you will never be the same.

Listening and Living Well

Listening and Living Well

“Live in me, and I will live in you. A branch cannot produce any fruit by itself. It has to stay attached to the vine. In the same way, you cannot produce fruit unless you live in me.” John 15:4

The news has been overwhelming in the past several weeks. One after another, women have come forward with their stories of sexual assault and harassment in the workplace. Actions that once took place in the shadows are coming to light. As each new victim shares her account it has empowered even more to open up about their experiences as well.

Some of the accused have denied any wrongdoing. At least one released a thoughtful, though perhaps incomplete, apology. Others have used phrases like “if I have offended…”. Many brave women have spoken up, and their stories deserve to be heard.

As followers of Jesus, we are interested in truth. Jesus told us that He is the way, the truth and the life. We are also interested in valuing every person’s life; their humanity, their dignity and their worth. We must never dismiss the story of a victim or make excuses for the perpetrator.

As I’ve read and listened to the stories of many of these women I’ve wondered how well we do as the church in treating women as Jesus did. I also wonder if our structures enhance the role of women or hold them back, if our policies celebrate them or limit them.

Four women have accused a senatorial candidate of sexual abuse at a time when he was in his 30s and they were teenagers. All of the incidents took place about 30 years ago and the girls ranged from 14 to 16 years old. Without getting into the politics, there was one poll that shocked me. A JMC analytics poll found that 37 percent of evangelicals surveyed in that state said the allegations make them more likely to vote for the GOP Senate candidate in the upcoming election.

Jesus honored and elevated women. The church should follow His lead. There is a story about Jesus having dinner with a religious leader. This man would have been among the conservatives of his time, and probably wanted to test Jesus. In those days, when there was an important guest at dinner, people would sometimes stand outside, watching the discussion and meal.

In this case, a prostitute was among those watching. Called a “sinner”, this woman enters the house and walks directly to Jesus. Kneeling at his feet, she empties a bottle of perfume on them, crying and washing his feet with her tears. She then dries his feet with her hair, kissing them over and over again, pouring more perfume on them.

Simon, the religious leader, is deeply offended. “If this man was really a prophet, he would know what type of woman is touching him. She’s a sinner!”

There is another story that is very similar. This time the disciples are offended because the perfume is so expensive, saying the it could have been sold and the money given to the poor. Jesus tells them, “She has anointed my body for burial.”

Mary, the sister of Martha, sits at Jesus’ feet when he comes to visit them in their home. Martha is doing what is expected of women at the time; preparing the meal. Mary breaks out of the presumptive role and takes her place sitting before Jesus…as a disciple. This was unheard of in Jesus’ time. But when Martha complains that Mary is not helping in the kitchen, Jesus says Mary has chosen the “better” part.

Jesus met with an outcast woman, a Samaritan, alone at a well. Men and women were never to meet alone in that society. But, not only did he meet with her, he had one of the most theologically deep conversations recorded in the Gospels. He then sent her back into town to tell everyone about Him.

The very first to discover Jesus had risen from the dead were women, and they were the first to announce it to the male disciples. All of these things happened in a highly patriarchal society. Jesus broke the “norms” because all people deserve respect, dignity and the opportunity to pursue their God-given dreams.

So, let’s listen, and listen well. And, let’s listen like Jesus. Jesus said, “Live in me, and I will live in you.” Life is not produced by letting society squeeze us into its mold. Life is not produced by playing politics over truth. Life is produced as we all seek to keep our connection with Jesus Himself strong and unfettered. Then we will be a healing people. We will respect people, not take advantage of them. We will truly listen to peoples’ stories. And we will fully empower men and women toward their full potential.