Seeing Clearly

Sermon, October 22, 2000

Texts: Mark 8:14-26; Matthew 28:16-20


As those of you who were here last week may remember, I had an eye examination two weeks back, the first in too many years. The good news is that my new prescription enables me to see much more clearly; I was delighted and even startled last week to notice just how well I could now see all of you from the pulpit. Now I can even discern who is in the back row of the balcony ... and to the delight of many of you, now I can even see the clock back there. The not-so-good news is that I discovered I am now afflicted with Presbyopia. No, that's not Presby-PHO-bia; I'm not afraid of Presbyterians. Presbyopia (from the Latin for "Old Eyes") is that vision condition which usually becomes noticeable in the early to mid forties. The crystalline lens of the eye loses its flexibility, which results in the gradual loss of the eyes' ability to change focus from far to near objects. Essentially, like a rusted telescope, the lens gets "stuck" in the distance position, making it difficult to see clearly "close-up", and prompting the need for reading glasses. Presbyopia may seem to occur suddenly, but the actual loss of flexibility takes place over a number of years (... like so many other things that gradually lose their flexibility as we get older ... including our opinions and theology ... but that's another sermon!). Presbyopia really cannot be prevented; it is a natural part of the eye's aging process.

Just this past Thursday I received new glasses with seamless bifocals, the kind where there is no "line" between the part of the glasses used for up close reading, and the part of the glasses used for normal seeing of things and distance. They are taking some getting used to ... all day long I would catch myself bobbing my head up and down, as I did things and as I talked to people, trying to get that right "spot" where there was no blur. At Session that same evening all the elders thought I was agreeing with everything they said, but I was just trying to see clearly.

All week long as I got adjusted to the new contacts, the new reading glasses (that I keep misplacing), or the new bifocals, I kept thinking, "There's a sermon illustration in this somewhere!" I think at times we are afflicted by a spiritual "presbyopia," we have difficulty seeing the reality of Jesus' presence in our life "close up", in the here and now. It isn't that He's not there, it just that we aren't seeing clearly, and again and again we need to look through the lenses of Scripture to see Jesus both near and far. I've mentioned how the key to faithful living is living with three tenses at the same time: remembering God's faithfulness in the past, envisioning God's faithfulness for the future, and then placing ourselves between past faithfulness and future faithfulness. And maybe the vision in our mind's eye can see and remember with clarity Jesus' reality in our life sometime "back there," and maybe we can clearly envision the hope of His promises in the future, but quite often in the present our "near vision" is blurred. All we see is the stresses and difficulties of life up close; it's hard to perceive with clarity the reality of Jesus Christ's living and active presence in our lives right now, or to understand just what He is doing, in the here and now.

One of the things that I find most refreshing in reading the Gospels is that the disciples weren't all that different from us. They seemed to be afflicted with this spiritual presbyopia, they never quite "see" what was going on. These were the men who were closest to Jesus, who listened to Him, ate, drank, traveled and lived with Him for three years, and quite often these men had difficulty "seeing" clearly just what He was all about. Much of what Jesus said and did, frankly, baffled them! A few random examples ... remember when the children were brought to Jesus (recorded in Matthew 18), and the disciples basically rebuked the parents, in so many words, "Get these kids out of here, this gathering is for grown-ups! Don't bother the rabbi with noisy kids while he's teaching!" Jesus stopped them by responding, "Let the children come, do not hinder them ... unless you become as one of these, you will not see the kingdom of Heaven." Imagine the disciples pausing, looking at Him with puzzlement, then turning with a shrug of their shoulders and saying, "Hey, kids, come on up! Time with the Rabbi!" Another example is the little encounter in the boat, which we just read this morning: The disciples had forgotten to bring enough bread, except for one loaf they had with them in the boat, they seemed concerned about it, then Jesus says, "Be careful. Watch out for the yeast of the Pharisees and that of Herod." I can imagine them looking blankly at each other and saying, "Now what is He talking about?" They discussed it among themselves and mumbled, "It must have something to do with our forgetting to bring enough bread." Probably with a degree of frustration or of humor or both, Jesus asked them (slightly paraphrased): "Why are you talking about having no bread? Do you still not see or understand? Do you have eyes but fail to see? And don't you remember? When I broke the five loaves for the five thousand, how many basketfuls of pieces did you pick up?" "Twelve," they replied. "And when I broke the seven loaves for the four thousand, how many basketfuls of pieces did you pick up?" (which, by the way, had JUST HAPPENED). They answered, "Seven." He said to them, "Do you still not see? Do you still not understand?"

The befuddlement of the disciples carried on right on through the gospels, even after the resurrection. On the back of the bulletin each week we have the familiar words of Jesus' Great Commission. The context for those verses in Matthew is the risen Jesus with the eleven disciples on a mountain in Galilee. He's about to trust the future of His church to these eleven men. Matthew records that when the eleven disciples saw Jesus, they worshiped him, but some doubted. Although the text is usually translated, "some of them doubted," it could also be translated, "they had some doubts." Even after all they had seen, the disciples still had their doubts, their reservations, their spiritual presbyopia. They had seen him heal the sick, feed the hungry, give sight to the blind, and cast out demons. Now they were seeing Him alive after having been killed on a cross and buried in a tomb. But they still weren't seeing clearly, they still had some reservations about all this, it was all still "fuzzy" to them. Note that Jesus does not condemn or criticize them for their inability to see, nor does He try to talk them out of their doubts. Jesus' only response to their doubts and fuzzy vision is to come closer to them.

There is a wonderful movement here, which is the movement that is replayed in some scale in every worship service of the church. We come to Jesus even with our doubts, even with the things we don't understand, even with the things that are unclear, and He comes to us. As we seek to draw near to Him, He draws near to us. As we worship Him, we eventually lose sight of those doubts we brought along, and as He comes to us, we gain clearer vision. He restores our vision for life, He gives us clarity of purpose, He enhances our ability to "see" Him in the everyday-ness of life. Standing in the presence of the risen Christ does not totally remove our doubts any more than it totally removed the disciples' doubts. In fact, if anything, He gives us new things to doubt! As you keep worshiping Jesus Christ, you'll start to doubt how seriously you should take yourselves. You'll doubt how seriously you should take the culture around you. You'll start to believe things you never thought you would believe ... and you start to see things you never knew were there.

Let's go back to Mark 8. Jesus and the disciples went to the village called Bethsaida. Some people brought a blind man to Jesus and "begged him to touch him." Frequently in the gospels, people in need of healing are brought to Jesus by others. If you want to help someone who is in trouble (or who may be troubling you, for that matter), the first thing to do is to bring them to Jesus. Start with prayer; bring them to Jesus in prayer. The One, the only One, who truly heals will honor that prayer. After the blind mind is brought to Jesus, the first thing Jesus does is to lead him out of the village. We don't know exactly why, but maybe it was because it's hard to see clearly in the hubbub of village life. In the "village" we are easily distracted by our busyness, our anxieties, our stress, and by all the little ways we have learned to cope with our lost vision. When we lose our vision for life, Jesus isn't interested in helping us cope. No, He wants to restore our vision, our dreams and hope. So he leads those He would heal away from their busy-ness for a time, and He brings them into quiet places ... like worship. Quite often in the Gospels the power of Jesus is revealed first in the personal, intimate crises before it is revealed to all the world; and that principle remains to this day. It's only when we see and experience the power of Jesus in our own lives that we begin to see His power at work in the world. When Jesus and the man are away from the village, our Lord put some of His saliva on the man's eyes and laid hands on him. Then he asked, "Can you see anything?" The man responded, "I see people; they look like trees walking around." (they weren't watching a presidential debate, by the way). Once more Jesus put His hands on the man's eyes. Then the man's eyes were opened, his sight was restored, and as Mark tells us, he now saw everything clearly.

This is an unusual story; it is the only example in the Gospels of Jesus touching someone twice in order to heal, and only Mark records it. Perhaps one insight is that sometimes the vision Jesus gives those He is healing can be a little confusing and unclear, at first. When that happens, the point is not to cope with seeing people as trees, to be resigned to, "Well, this is how it is and I'll make do with the vision I have." No, the point is to keep coming back to Jesus and ask for clarity. Only He can enable us to see everything else clearly. So many times someone might say, "My marriage is shot. I don't see how it will improve." or "I hate my job, I don't see any way of getting out of it." or "I love being here at church, but I dread the crowd at school tomorrow." or "Look at the mess the world is in. I don't see that we are making any progress." Where is Jesus "up close?" What is He leading me to do? How is He at work in this situation? The stresses and difficulties of "life up close" press in, and when they do, it doesn't help to keep looking at and fretting about the circumstances. No, when you can't see any hope, the only thing that will help is to look more intently at Jesus, to ask Him for clarity so that you can "see" Him in the nearness of everyday life, and to see that He is not done restoring your vision for life.

So much of life is spent between the first and second touch of Jesus. Between believing your life is in His hands, and seeing clearly how that will help; between a moving spiritual encounter with the living Christ and coming to fuller understanding of and appreciation for how He really is in the warp and woof of life up close. When you are in that in between place, bring your fears, your stresses, your broken heart, your broken world back to Jesus. Place yourself in the hands of Jesus again and again. Like the blind man in today's text, you will then begin to see everything clearly.

(With special acknowledgement, again, to insights and phrasing of the Rev. Dr. M. Craig Barnes of National Presbyterian Church, Washington, DC; portions of this message were gleaned from two sermons "Healing is a Process" and "Doubtful Disciples" available at www.natpresch.org)