Most people enjoy a good magic show – whether it’s a slight of hand or an optical illusion, we are delighted to see the seemingly impossible. Or do you remember those posters known as “magic eye art”? At first glance, they are just visual nonsense, but if you look at it long enough, a three-dimensional shape emerges. Artistically speaking, they were pretty bad, but people bought them in droves and put them on their walls because we love the idea of seeing things on a deeper level. And there are also times when our vision limits us. Looking out the window of the plane, it really does appear as if the earth is flat. You can see up to a certain point, and then it appears to just stop. In that example, our sense of vision limits what we can truly know about reality. In today’s readings, our vision of both what we can and cannot see is called into question.
In
John, the question of vision revolves around a man who was born blind but whose
sight is restored by Jesus. It’s a long passage, but it’s not the focus of this
sermon – so I just want to point to one facet. In Greek thought at the time,
and societies influenced by it, the eyes did not receive light from the world
and then process it in our brains, rather our eyes were thought to emit light,
which is what allows us to see. Elsewhere in Scripture, we read “The eye is the
lamp of the body,” and that’s the logic behind it. This completely changes the
meaning of what Jesus teaches by saying “I am the light of the world.”
He’s
saying that what allows us to see the world properly as God’s good creation is
not something within us but rather something that is given to us. If we try to
see with our own light, we will miss the obvious and see things dimly. Just
because we think we are seeing something does not mean that what we are seeing is
not an illusion. And we all know this is true – whether it’s the news, reading
poetry, or doing theology, our vantage point influences what we see. Two people
can look at the same situation but see it so very differently based on their
personality, mood, experience, and bias. What Jesus says is that he is the light
that allows us to most fully and properly see a world that is full of God’s
love, peace, and mercy.
This
is a challenge though who are in power and are used to setting the vision that
others follow. This is why the Temple authorities argue with Jesus – “Surely we
are not blind, are we?” To which Jesus says “But now that you say, ‘We see,’ your
sin remains.” As odd as it sounds, we are so often blinded by our vision. Case
in point – consider the anointing of King David that we heard about in First
Samuel.
Saul
had been the first king of Israel, but was deficient and rejected. So God sends
the prophet Samuel to the household of Jesse to anoint one of his sons as the
next king over Israel. But God doesn’t tell Samuel which son to anoint. So
Samuel does what is only natural – he began with the one who looked the part: Eliab.
But God tells Samuel, this isn’t the one. And then adds the qualification, “Do
not look on his appearance or his height, for the Lord does not see as mortals see; they look on the outward
appearance, but the Lord looks on
the heart.” The point being, we do not see as God does. Whether it’s a faulty
first impression, our ignorance and prejudice, or our limited and selfish
perspective, we simply do not know it all. As St. Paul puts it in one of his
letters, we see through a glass dimly.
You
know that I like to quote a poem by Elizabeth Barret Browning – “Earth’s
crammed with heaven and every common bush afire with God, but only they who see
take off their shoes, the rest sit round and pluck blackberries.” The problem
is that we are distracted and blinded by life and miss what is all around us. Some
studies suggest that as much as 80% of our impression of the world is based on
our sight. And so, if we are looking for meaning in the wrong places, or
interpreting what we see incorrectly, or not perceiving the grace of God within
and among us, we end up unable to come and see the difference that Christ
makes.
As
far as what it is that we are to come and see, we turn to one of the most
well-known passages in all of Scripture: the 23rd Psalm. This Psalm
helps us attune our vision to the light of Christ, who is our Good Shepherd.
First, we are told that the Lord
makes us like down in green pastures as we are led beside still waters. When
was the last time you were able to notice how lush and abundant God’s love is?
If we were to describe our world, would it be as a green pasture or a barren
desert? To be clear, I know that people get cancer diagnoses, I know there is a
war in Ukraine, I know that racism and sexism continue to plague our society, I
know that just as the economy seemed to be getting back on track we’ve had news
of bank runs this week. Faith is not a pair of rose-colored glasses that we’re
supposed to put on and pretend that everything is okay when it’s not. But faith
does impact how we see the world.
We
know from the start of Scripture that when God looked upon creation, he called
it “good.” We know from Jesus that “God so loves the world” we are assured that
he is with us always, even unto the end of the world. Yes, life can be a
challenge. Yes, we still deal with the ways in which Sin corrupts and distorts
our vision and our world. But that does not mean all is lost or hopeless. Jesus
is the light of the world. And so even in those dark valleys and in the shadow
of death, we have no need to fear because the Lord
is with us.
The
question is whether or not we see ourselves in the green pastures of God’s
providence and drinking from the streams of God’s love. St. Augustine famously
said that our hearts are restless until they rest in God. And if there is an
overarching diagnosis to describe society right now it would be that we have a
case of restless hearts. Some search for peace in a bank account that they
think will be big enough to protect them from any situation. Others look for
meaning in impressive job titles. Some focus on physical appearances or
interesting hobbies as things that will make them worthy of admiration. Others
turn to drinks, gambling, or other physical pleasures to distract them from the
difficulties of life. The problem with all of this striving and searching is
that we are trying to get something. We think that the secret to a restful
heart is having something – money, power, answers, awards, the perfect online
profile. We think that once we have this thing we will finally be at peace. But
life is not about having, it is about being.
Psalm
23 isn’t about what we have, it’s about where we are and who we are with. God
puts us in green pastures, God is with us in deep valleys, God anoints us with
oil and fills our cup so that it overflows. These are metaphors of abundance.
There is no limit to God’s forgiveness, no boundary to God’s love – and yet we
try to count the infinite and compare it to what others have. We focus our
sights on what we have instead of what we are – God’s beloved. We do not see as
God would have us to see.
The
Psalm concludes on the note that God’s “goodness and mercy shall follow us all the
days of our life, and we will dwell in the house of the Lord for ever.” It’s a way of saying that we have all we
need and so we can simply rest in God. God takes care of the “having” so that
we can live in the “being.” It’s simple, though not necessarily easy – the gift
that we are given in Jesus is that we are loved, redeemed, and accepted. Full
stop. We don’t have to earn this; instead, we can enjoy it. One of the hardest
things for us in our faith is to accept the fact that we have been accepted. We
live in such a consumeristic and meritocratic society that we are so afraid of
being discovered as an imposter, of being canceled, of being rejected, that
simply being accepted and loved is a challenge for us. In faith, there is no
to-do list because all that needs to be done has already been done by Jesus. He
is our Good Shepherd who has laid down his life for the flock.
When
we see faith incorrectly though, we miss out on this. Too often faith is seen
as something that we have to prove and demonstrate so that people will know
that we are on the “good list.” We see other streams and pastures and might think
they might give us the rest our souls long for. We find ourselves in a dark valley,
unable to see and we try to find some light to guide us instead of remembering that
our Good Shepherd is with us and has a rod and a staff, so we might need to be
paying attention not to what we can see, but what we can feel in terms of
nudges and prods. Do we focus on the path as we see it, or do we trust that our
Good Shepherd can see more than we can and follow him?
As we’re closing in on the final weeks of Lent, consider what you’re looking at. Cast your eyes on Jesus and, in him, come and see the love that is always with you and gives us rest for our souls.
