Friday, November 19, 2010

denial

When Jesus healed the man who had been blind from birth, he caused a crisis. The man whom an entire village seemed to know as the blind beggar was looking them in the eyes. It was a conspicuous miracle impossible to ignore and it was a disruptive miracle for those whose faith was grounded in predictability and order. Who is this man sho opens the eyes of the blind with seemingly little effort and complete disregard for the way we do things in our congregation?

We all have to face this man, and it is as hard for us today as it was for people back then. We like to be in control of our lives and our faith. We become frightened when Jesus forces the issue by showing up without warning and opening eyes. Like the Pharisees, we like to be in charge of what we and others see. We think that denial is safety. We think it will protect all that is dear to us.

But denial is an addiction. It is an addiction to blindness. We shut our eyes and claim to see. We build walls which we reinforce daily in order to keep out the light. We clutch the railings we have erected in order to navigate in the dark. Who needs to see when the way of godliness is securely marked out for us in our traditions, our rules, our methods, our categories, our systems, and our terminology? The better blindness works for us, the tighter we cling to the railings and resist any breakthrough of light.

Blindness was working for the Pharisees. Their lives were thriving in the dark. They had money, prestige, and power. They had all the answers. They defined the church’s mission. They praised those who benefitted them and banished those who did not. Blindness works in this world if you are committed to it. In the dark, the powerful can rule and the fearful can be led.

Perhaps this is why suffering is a gift. The blind man ached for light. Because of this, the genuine work of God was revealed in his life. What is the work of God? To open the eyes of the blind. Through this man’s blindness, Jesus revealed himself as the light of the world who gives sight to those who want to see. Through the Samaritan woman’s thirst He revealed himself as the Source of living water which eternally quenches the souls of those who want to drink. Through one man’s death he revealed himself as the resurrection and the life who raises the dead and gives eternal life to those who want to live. This is the pattern we see in the Gospels. The work of God is to heal, fill and impart life to needy souls. He forgives all the sin of the guilty, he lifts all the burdens off the backs of the weary and heavy laden. He liberates prisoners, restores sanity, and casts out the demons that have been oppressing tortured souls. Best of all, he loves unlovable sheep. He is the Good Shepherd who has lain down his life to rescue us from the wolves who hunt in the darkness.

The problem is denial is familiar. It feels safe. We prefer the darkness where we can hide to the light where we can be healed. But when we become in some way desperate enough for something better than darkness, we discover the wonder of his light. God’s radiant, holy love enters our souls and illuminates his beauty. We see reality as it is: We all of us are lying on the side of the road, beaten, bloody and robbed. And Jesus is the Samaritan, our imagined enemy, the one who seems too base for us, and who turns out to be the only One who can heal us.

My teenage daughter and I have been studying the kings of Israel and Judah. She asked me why a king would not want to worship Yahweh. I reminded her of the enormous pressures these kings were under. Their hold on power was only as strong as the loyalty of their wealthy advisors and military leaders. A king ruled a small country surrounded by powerful enemies. The economy was fragile, dependent upon the weather and the good will of the surrounding nations. Like today, a king’s approval ratings were based upon the visible, tangible benefits that people experienced during his reign. So much was out of his control. The king must have felt pressure to form alliances with those who could promote his popularity and help secure his power. I’m no ruler, but I understand these kinds of pressures. False gods give us the illusion of being in control. I do my part, publicly, and I’m not to blame if things go wrong. I do what it takes to get the results I need. I’m on the same page with the surrounding culture and gain the security of their approval. I’m not alone, on my own, forsaken, abandoned, and lost.

If a king worshipped Yahweh he had to trust Yahweh to love him because he was giving up all his props. And that is the very thing that is so hard to do. The Lord’s promises are on paper; our enemies are in the flesh. Our own wisdom screams for us to act, to do what it takes to secure our safety. Seeking God’s wisdom, waiting patiently for Him, trusting him in the midst of the cruel circumstances that He Himself has brought about requires confidence that He sees us and cares about us. And He does. We can let go of denial. We can let Jesus illuminate our darkness because He will do it with compassion, kindness, humility and gentleness. God is love. Love is the very thing that cannot be found in the dark. There are alliances but not love. There can be efficiency, production, success, wealth, fame and power. There can be social niceties, polite gatherings, and even friendliness. We can gain approval through our performances, but the love we ache for does not live in the dark. We were made for something better than denial.

Jesus knows about darkness. He, himself, was cast into complete darkness where there was no comfort or relief. He was utterly cast out, forsaken, and abandoned so that we will never have to experience that. And by his self sacrifice, he defeated the one who uses our fears to seduce us into darkness. Jesus will lead us out of the darkness and into the light where we can see the One who loves us, who calls us by name and leads us as a Shepherd.

Seeing is an ongoing process. The Gospels give us these accounts so we can know who Jesus is, what he is like, and what he can do. But when we read the Bible as a whole, it is clear that our final healing will not take place until the day we see him face to face. For now we see through a glass darkly which at times feel most unsatisfactory. If we seek to cope by being strong in the dark, we lose what little light we have. But if we fix our eyes, as dim as they are, on Jesus, putting our tiny mustard seed of faith in him, trusting him to love us and to see us through to the end, our light brightens a bit, sometimes quickly, mostly almost imperceptibly. I do not know how all of this works. There certainly is no gimmick or quick fix in it. But I do know that in Jesus we have an Advocate who loves us, who is patient and kind, and who sticks with us through our stumblings, rebellions, confusions, griefs and pain. He cannot do otherwise.

Each day and several times a day there is a choice laid out before us: denial or light. On one path we have all the answers and remain in control. We know our way in the dark. On the other path we have few answers because we have surrendered control. We follow a way that we do not know. On any given day it can be hard to observe which path we are on. But over time we seal our commitment. Either we are comfortable in denial, controlling or being controlled, or we are beginning to see what we have never seen before.

18 The path of the righteous is like the first gleam of dawn,

shining ever brighter till the full light of day.

19 But the way of the wicked is like deep darkness;

they do not know what makes them stumble. (Proverbs4:18–19)

2 The people walking in darkness

have seen a great light;

on those living in the land of the shadow of death

a light has dawned. (Isaiah 9:2)

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