Showing posts with label Rigid Assumptions. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Rigid Assumptions. Show all posts

Tuesday, May 05, 2026

Looking for What God is Doing

Looking for What God is Doing

John 9:1-7, 13-41[1]

We turn to faith for comfort. That’s one of the main roles faith plays in our lives. It offers us comfort when the realities of life can feel like they’re too much to bear. That’s why we love Scripture passages like Psalm 23. It’s a beautiful expression of the comfort our faith offers us. But when we only look to faith for comfort, it’s too easy to focus only our ourselves, and lose sight of those around us. That’s why our faith also challenges us. Faith that’s worth its salt not only offers us comfort, it also challenges us to see the suffering of our sisters and brothers in the human family. Especially those who suffer the most in this world, the very ones we may prefer not to see. When we let our faith turn in on itself, it becomes too easy to convince ourselves that their suffering is somehow their own fault. Instead of seeing them as beloved children of God who are suffering in the same way we all can suffer, which can be a scary thought, we convince ourselves that they must have done something to bring it on themselves. The idea that they must have done something to deserve their suffering somehow assures us that it won’t happen to us. But in the process, we let our desire for comfort and safety blind us to the compassion God wants us to give to the people who suffer the most in this world.

Our Gospel lesson for today addresses this issue. It’s the story about Jesus’ encounter with a man who had been born blind. But the irony is that it turns the tables on how we might expect the story to go. In this story, the “religious” people who claimed that they could see were in fact blind. They were blind to the compassion of God, they were blind to truth that Jesus restored this man’s sight. But it was a man who was despised as an ignorant vagrant was the one who was able to see what they couldn’t or wouldn’t see. The narrator emphasizes this irony by calling the one Jesus healed “the man who had formerly been blind.” But irony is that in this story, he was the one who was able to see the truth about Jesus. On the other hand, the “religious” people were blinded because of their assumptions.

The basic assumption in this story that blinded the “religious” people is that anyone who is suffering must have done something to deserve it. That’s an assumption that we still make. In the Gospel story, it was Jesus’ own disciples who voiced this assumption, asking, “who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?” (John 9:2). The very fact that he had been born blind meant that someone had to have done something wrong to cause his suffering. But Jesus exploded the centuries-old myth that suffering comes from sin. I like the way Gene Peterson translates Jesus’ response in The Message: “You’re asking the wrong question. You're looking for someone to blame. There is no such cause-effect here. Look instead for what God can do” (John 9:3, MSG).

The hard truth is that we live in a world where any kind of suffering can affect anyone at any time. And we tend to use rationalizations like “they must have brought it on themselves” to assure ourselves that we won’t have to suffer the same pain! But Jesus turns all that on its head. He says that the suffering people experience in this world isn’t about blaming or shaming. Rather, it’s an opportunity for those of us who claim to follow him to demonstrate “the works of God” (John 9:4): kindness, compassion, and mercy! The suffering that people endure is an opportunity for us to “look instead for what God can do” (John 9:3, MSG), even and especially in the worst of the pain people can suffer!

Because Jesus healed “the man who had formerly been blind” on the Sabbath day, the religious people believed he had “broken” the Sabbath and therefore he must have been a “sinner” (John 9:16). They believed that following their “rules” about the Sabbath carefully and completely would act as a kind of magical protection from the suffering in the world. Because Jesus didn’t follow their rules about how to observe the Sabbath, he called into question their assumptions about God and the world. To keep their assurances intact they concluded that he must have been a sinner! Only if Jesus was a sinner could they keep their assumptions intact, assumptions that gave them false and shallow assurances that they would never have to deal with that kind of suffering. We still do that: we tell ourselves that if we follow all the rules, we’ll be spared from the worst hardships of life. And we reinforce that line of thinking by assuming those who suffer the worst must have “broken the rules,” and therefore they must be “sinners.” I would think that most of us have had enough experience with life to know that’s not the way life works. We can follow all the rules and still be hit with some of the worst kinds of suffering.

Again, in the Gospel story it was “the man who had formerly been blind” who exposed all these false assumptions. The religious leaders kept pressing him, trying to find a way to avoid the obvious conclusion that Jesus restored his sight. Finally, in exasperation they said, “Give glory to God! We know that this man is a sinner” (John 9:24). And an unlearned, marginalized, ragged, and dirty man, who just that morning had been living on the street, showed a depth of insight beyond all that they possessed. He said simply, “I do not know whether he is a sinner” (Jn 9:25). There’s probably a lot of wisdom in that when it comes to using the word “sinner” about someone else. But he said, “One thing I do know, that though I was blind, now I see” (Jn 9:25).

This man who had been blind was able to see the truth about Jesus. Those who claimed to see and know God’s truth were blinded by their false assumptions. That’s what the story is about. We see it in the end when Jesus makes an ironic and somewhat confusing statement about enabling those who are blind to see and making those who can see blind. The Message translation puts it this way, “I came into the world … , so that those who have never seen will see, and those who have made a great pretense of seeing will be exposed as blind” (John 9:39, MSG). I don’t think Jesus ever meant to keep anyone from seeing the truth about God, the truth about themselves, or the truth about life. I think what he was trying to do was to expose those who “make a great pretense of seeing” as people who can actually be blind. The story is about bringing to light something that happens all too often: those of us who think we see the truth about God and therefore view ourselves as “holier” than others are the ones who can at times be the most blind to God’s grace and mercy and compassion!

The hard truth about life is that we never know what we may have to go through. There are times when suffering just happens, not because of what we have done, but in spite of all we may have done. It’s natural in those times for us to look to our faith for comfort. But when we take that to an extreme and try to use our faith as an assurance that it won’t happen to us, we’ve missed something. Jesus made it clear that we’ve missed something when we use our “faith” to brand those who are suffering as “sinners” as a way of reassuring ourselves that we won’t have to suffer like them. What that really boils down to is an elaborate means of making ourselves feeling better at the expense of others. But Jesus framed the suffering people experience in this world entirely differently. He framed it as an opportunity for us to “look instead for what God can do” (John 9:3, MSG).

The Bible says that “nothing will be impossible for God.” We oftentimes think that some people may be beyond hope. And we tend to point the finger at them and assume that they must have done something to deserve it. It’s their fault somehow. But we really don’t know what life experiences have brought people to where they are. We really don’t know the burdens that people are carrying. I think that’s why Jesus taught his disciples and us to look at the suffering people experience not as a reason to point the finger and blame but as an opportunity to “look instead for what God can do.” Instead of shaming people, he challenged us to look for the good that God can do even and especially in the worst of human pain. After all, God raise Jesus from the dead after his suffering on the cross. If that’s true, what experience in this life is there that God can’t bring good from? And when look for what God can do when someone is suffering, not only does it change our whole perspective, but it also helps us to see that we have the opportunity to share God’s mercy and compassion with them. Maybe that’s what God “wants” to do. Maybe God wants to open our hearts to show kindness, compassion, and care, especially toward those whose suffering challenges us. I think Jesus challenges us to find the faith to look at the sufferings of this life and trust God enough to look for what God can do in any situation, come what may, and then try to join him in doing that.



[1] © Alan Brehm 2026. A sermon delivered by Rev. Alan Brehm PhD on 3/15/2026 for Hickman Presbyterian Church, Hickman, NE.

Wednesday, May 10, 2017

Eyes to See

Eyes to See
John 9:1-41[1]
We all have “filters” through which we process what goes on around us. Those “filters” come from our perspectives on life and our convictions and assumptions about truth. It’s the way we make sense out of the many and varied experiences and pieces of information that come our way every day. In some respects, it’s simply the way our brains work. But at times, we take our “filters” too seriously. We assume that they are “truth” with a capital “T,” and that anyone who disagrees with us is wrong. When that happens, our “filters” become “blinders.”
Blinders have a useful purpose: they prevent animals from being distracted or spooked by what’s going on around them. But when it comes to people, blinders rarely turn out to be positive. Especially when it comes to matters of faith. When we assume that our convictions are the absolute truth, then we have no choice but to judge those who have a different perspective to be “wrong.” In the history of the church, this has often played out in terms of branding persons as “heretics,” shunning them, and even executing them for their different beliefs.
I think our Gospel lesson for today is a story about how our convictions can become “blinders” that prevent us from seeing what is obvious.  In this story, the religious authorities are blinded to what is the obvious truth, something they should be able to see plainly.  The episode is about Jesus’ encounter with a man who had been born blind. Part of what makes this story ironic, however, is that while the Gospel continually speaks of him as “the man who had formerly been blind,” the religious authorities go to great lengths to try to discredit this obvious truth. As it turns out, they are the ones who are blinded because of their assumptions.
The first blinder in the story is that anyone who suffers tragedy must have brought it on themselves by some grievous sin.  Jesus’ own disciples voice this belief, asking, “Who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?” (John 9:2).  Their question reflected a view as old as the story of Job that if you do what is right you will be blessed by God, but if you do what is wrong you will be punished.  But Jesus explodes the myth.  I like the way The Message translates Jesus’ response: “You’re asking the wrong question. You’re looking for someone to blame. There is no such cause-effect here. Look instead for what God can do” (John 9:3, Message).  Jesus says that tragedy in our world is an opportunity for us to demonstrate “the works of God” (John 9:4): kindness and compassion!
The next blinder has to do with the fact that Jesus heals “the man who had formerly been blind” on the Sabbath day.  Because Jesus dared exercise God’s mercy by healing this man, the religious authorities believed he had “broken” the Sabbath and therefore assumed he was a “sinner.”  Some of them put it this way: “This man is not from God, for he does not observe the Sabbath” (John 9:16).  Since Jesus didn’t follow their meticulous rules about keeping the Sabbath holy, in their eyes he must have been a sinner. Ironically, it is “the man who had formerly been blind” who exposes their blindness.  The religious authorities keep trying to find a way to avoid the obvious conclusion that he had been born blind and Jesus had restored his sight.  And this unlearned, very like unkempt man, simply says to them, “One thing I do know, that though I was blind, now I see” (John 9:25). The irony is that sometimes it takes someone we consider beneath us to make us aware of the ways in which we let our assumptions keep us from seeing what is obvious.
That’s one of the great dangers when we let our convictions and assumptions about faith and life harden so that they turn into “blinders.” As Jesus often chided the religious leaders of that day, those kinds of prejudices often keep us from seeing what is truly important. When our faith and our assumptions lead us to brand another person as a “sinner,” it seems to me that we have overstepped the bounds of our human limitations. Surely when it comes to labeling who’s a sinner and who’s not, we should heed the humility that reminds us that it’s not for us to say! 
I think that is what the whole story is about.  When we let our convictions and assumptions lead us to hate another person, we’ve missed the point. We’ve closed our eyes to the fact that Jesus himself said that the highest expression of our faith is to love God and love others. At the end of the story, Jesus says “I came into the world …, so that those who have never seen will see, and those who have made a great pretense of seeing will be exposed as blind” (John 9:39, The Message).  This story is about exposing how our assumptions and convictions can make us completely blind to the grace and mercy and compassion of God. 
But I don’t think Jesus intended this story to stop there. I think the point of the story is to make us take a hard look at the “blinders” we may be wearing. I think it’s meant to challenge us to consider the ways in which we may have allowed our convictions and assumptions to harden enough to make us shun or even hate others. The fact that we all tend to do this is something that we’d rather not have to face. It’s humbling, to say the least. But that’s what the season of Lent is for: a time to humble ourselves and admit, at least to ourselves, the ways in which we have been blinded. When we do that, it can be like the scales falling off St. Paul’s eyes on the road to Damascus. When we recognize the “blinders” we’ve been wearing, we can take them off so that we have eyes to see the “works of God” all around us!



[1] © 2017 Alan Brehm. A sermon delivered by Rev. Dr. Alan Brehm on 3/26/2017 at Hickman Presbyterian Church, Hickman, NE.