Sermon: From Darkness to Light - On the Highway

Now, when I hear the story of the man born blind, some of which Joan just read for us, I have to wonder if his heart resonated with at least the beginning of this song. I mean really, here he was sitting on the edge of the highway, minding his own business, when along comes Jesus with some of the disciples who -spouting the popular religious tenet of the day- ask Jesus, "Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?"

"Neither this man nor his parents sinned; he was born blind so that God's works might be revealed in him," Jesus said as he knelt down, scooped up some dirt spit on it, rubbed it on the man's eyes and then said, "Go wash up in the pool of Siloam." Whereupon his eyes were opened and he could see!

Now we might expect this healing miracle to be the cause of great celebration and rejoicing. But it is not; not among the man's neighbors and friends -they claim not to know him; not for the man's parents -they wash their hands of any association with this healing; and certainly not for the religious officials -they refuse to see that something good can come in a way that is outside their understanding of God's law. And before this man has time to see his first sunset, he finds himself an outcast, thrown out of the synagogue and cut off from family and friends! Yes, I bet he would sing with great gusto, "Sometimes I wish my eyes hadn't been opened. Sometimes I wish I could no longer see."

But Jesus did not leave this man alone. As John finishes the story, Jesus seeks him out again and this time opens the eyes of his heart to see God's love enfolding him and God's Spirit leading him into a whole new way of being.

I remember a day when my eyes were opened on the porch of the Black Panther headquarters in Milwaukee's inner city ghetto talking with Michael McGee, an Alderman and one of Milwaukee's most vitriolic critics. I was there because the Spirit literally pushed me into meeting with him with the instruction that I was to "listen to him and heal his pain." As we began I had asked him to show me what it was like to be black in Milwaukee and to live where he lived and work with the people with whom he worked. Near the end of our conversation he said to me, "You are going to be in a lot of pain when you leave here, because you have seen things you would rather not have seen." How right on target his words were, then and now.

Sometimes I wish my eyes hadn't been opened to the increasing divide between the "haves and the "have nots" of our own country and the world. Sometimes I wish my eyes hadn't been opened to the increasing violence in our world and our own hearts. Sometimes I wish my eyes hadn't been opened to the devastating effects of fear and the compromises of our values that fear causes us to make. Sometimes I wish my eyes hadn't been opened to number of women who are assaulted or abused. Sometimes I wish my eyes hadn't been open to the number of children who die each minute because of lack of food, shelter or adequate health care. Sometimes I wish my eyes hadn't been opened to the pain we inflict when we exclude or diminish others based on race, creed, gender or sexual orientation. Sometimes I wish my eyes hadn't been opened. Because once we see, life is never the same again, is it?

Vietnamese Buddhist monk, Thich Nhat Hanh, tells the following story:

"When I was in Vietnam so many of our villages were being bombed that, along with my monastic brothers and sisters, I had to decide what to do. Should we continue to practice in our monasteries or should we leave the meditation halls in order to help the people who were suffering under the bombs? After careful reflection, we decided to do both-to go out and help people and to do so in mindfulness. We called it engaged Buddhism. Mindfulness must be engaged. Once there is seeing, there must be acting. Otherwise, what is the sense of seeing?"

When Christ meets us on the highway, shines the light of love into our hearts, covers us in the mud of grace and opens our eyes to who we truly are and what we are called to be and do, life is never the same. When we see injustice anywhere we are called not only to name it, but also to use the blessings we have been given to do something about it. When we see people who are suffering, hungry or homeless -spiritually or physically- we are called to reach out with compassion, love and hope.

That's what our participation in Foods Resource Bank is all about. It's also what many of the Visioning Goals we have just approved are about as well. Our community of faith is alive and growing. Christ has met us on the highway. Our eyes have been opened to the hurts and the hopes of the world and "once there is seeing, there must be acting. Otherwise, what is the sense of seeing?"

But now that I've seen with my eyes, I can't close them,

Because deep inside me somewhere I'd still know

The road that my sisters and I have to travel:

My heart would say, "Yes" and my feet would say "Go!"

Sometimes I wish my eyes hadn't been opened,

But now that they have, I'm determined to see:

That somehow my sisters and I will be one day

The free people we were created to be.

Amen.