I See What You Mean
Text: Bible, New Testament John 9:18-34
Rev. Dr. Norman Pritchard, Kirk in the Hills
Presbyterian Church,
October 10, 2010
Since moving home to
I
began the discussion -- with trepidation. After a story about a painful
incident in my life, I launched the discussion by asking what purpose trouble
plays in the Christian life. Not so much why God allows hard times, but how he
uses them in our lives to grow us.[1]
Conversations like that
often produce stories of bad experiences and difficulties that, nevertheless,
made people stronger, less superficial people.
Stumbling blocks become building
blocks. Obstacles open up opportunities
for growth, a new perspective, a deeper appreciation, a more alert faith.
That’s the point of this
wonderfully alive story in John’s gospel.
You’d think having been born blind was bad enough but when Jesus healed
him a whole new set of troubles arose.
The man now knows what
things look like. He can see faces and
houses and trees and dogs. Almost the
first thing the man sees is—people who can’t see what has happened.
His friends and neighbors
are confused. “How come he can see
now?” He replies, “The man called Jesus did it.” A little faith, perhaps, in those words; not
much.
The neighbors take him to
the authorities, who hear his story and declare, “Today’s the Sabbath, the man
who did this can’t be from God.
“So, what do you think about
that?” they ask the man. The man
remembers bible stories about prophets who were healers. “He is a prophet,” he replies. His faith’s a little bigger now.
The religious leaders don’t
like the way this is going, so they call in the ex-blind man’s parents, but
they’re afraid to comment, so the authorities are forced to interview the man
again.
“He broke the Sabbath. Can’t you see this man’s a sinner?” “All I know is, I once was blind but now I
see.”
“OK, one more time, how did
he do it?”
But the guy’s getting fed up
with all this. “Why, do you want to
become disciples?”
“We’re Moses’
disciples. God spoke to Moses, we don’t
know about this man Jesus.”
He thinks, perhaps I’ll try
a little theology. “Listen, it takes God
to cure blindness. If this man were not
from God he could do nothing.”
So there’s another step
forward: the ex-blind man now believes that Jesus is from God.
But that’s a step too far
for the authorities. They excommunicate
him—but now he doesn’t care. Suddenly,
Jesus is there and the man rejoices: “Lord, I believe,” he said. And, John adds, he worshipped him. (v38) Full faith at last!
Every obstacle he faced—his
neighbors, the authorities, his parents, the authorities again—became an
opportunity to see further and understand more.
“The man Jesus” — “a prophet”
— “someone God sent” — “Lord, I believe.”
Can you imagine how it must
have felt: the joy of looking at the wonder and the beauty of creation, seeing
for the first time in his life—and the first thing he sees is people who can’t
see what is going on?
It would have been a massive
anti-climax but for one thing: the stumbling blocks became building
blocks. The obstacles provided
opportunities to see a little deeper than before and believe more fully…. The grit in the oyster grew into a pearl.
There was this guy who came
to church last Sunday. He sent me an
email about what happened afterwards.
He told me that, as he
remembers it, the end of the sermon said, “You’ll never see a miracle if you
just wait for it to happen. But take the
first small step and…. Oh, my!”
Last Sunday was also CROP
Walk. He thought it was a great way to
apply the lesson from the feeding of the 5,000.
One small step at a time and a few hours later the journey is completed.
Another benefit is the
sponsorships. A sponsor/donor makes the
connection and feels good. The CROP Walk
walker travels the journey, completes it feeling tired, but also satisfied. Hungry needy people have an increased source
for food.
He chose to donate
money. He considered making the walk,
but he had to get ready for work.
That afternoon he met a lady
in healthcare who discussed her concerns about America. She spoke about obesity and
malnutrition. Two problems in
America: Over-weight people. Hungry people. He heard echoes of Sunday’s Scripture and
sermon,.
He mused in his email:
Donating
money to Cropwalk is easy. Perhaps it’s
too easy for me. Writing a check gives a
feeling of satisfaction to help a worthy cause.
I don’t think about Cropwalk much after that. I don’t make the 5 mile walk and don’t feel
tired muscles afterwards. My employer’s
business requires my presence. I make
the small contribution.
That night this man sends a
text message to a friend in another state.
She has been out of work for 5 months, and he’s concerned.
“May I have $100 for food?”
she replies by text. He told me:
I
begin to act like the disciple Phillip, counting the cost. I reply, “what about unemployment
insurance? How about Food Stamps? How about food pantries?”
She says that she’s spent
money to pay bills and now doesn’t have any for food. He thinks that this is a symptom of poor
planning.
She is persistent. “Can I have the $100 or not?” He replies, “I don’t have $100 to
offer”. She replies, “Ok, thanks.” The conversation’s over, but not the issue. He realizes,
I
said no to a request for food. It
bothers me. I know that there are food
pantries in her city. My donation to
Cropwalk helps the local homeless and hungry people. I’ve done what I can. Isn’t that enough?
But then, that pesky
sermon. He remembers the
scripture: “Jesus said this to test
them.” (John 6:6).
It
bothers me. Enough so that I make the small
steps to seek a remedy. A local grocery
chain in the city where [his friend] shops has gift cards available.
He calls the store. He’s put through to a manager. Jim the manager states, “We can’t take
credit cards over the phone.”
He’s heard this before from
the store. Business policies are
interfering with his attempts to get food to a friend. He’s getting irritated. It’s difficult to respect the vital business
policies and operations when confronted with a personal need as basic as hunger.
I
persist with my plea and Jim says that the accounting department needs to talk
with us. [Jim] offers a phone number but
has no way to make a conference call.
But I do! And I quickly connect
the three of us. The accountant explains they could do it by mail, but that
would take days. But for the hungry,
waiting is not an option.
In the middle of all this
his friend sends another message. “I’m very hungry.” “I know it’s not your problem. Thanks for listening. I don’t feel well. I’m going to sleep.”
Our worshipper shares this
in his conference call, but policy is policy.
The accounts supervisor expresses sympathy and hangs up.
Suddenly, Jim says, “I’m
just going to do it.” Our worshipper is
delighted! [Jim’s] willingness to see the
good in my small step brings out his own small step; even if it means going
against company policies and a risk to him.
I thank Jim for his effort .
The card is processed. That’s what grocery stores are for: selling
food!
Jim adds that the store has
another card program. It’s called a
student card and involves a double card:
One for a donor to fund, the other card for the (student) recipient.
“That’s exactly what I need!”, he exclaims.
“Would you send me an application?”
A
message is sent to his friend, informing her of the immediately available funds
and waiting groceries. She is very
grateful. So too am I. The personal message from the Scripture and
sermon message is received. Small steps
are made. The result truly is, “Oh my.”.
Stumbling blocks have become
building blocks. He thought it was just
a sermon; now he says, “I see what you mean ….”