Jesus said, “For judgment I came into this world, that those who do not see may see, and that those who see may become blind.”
John 9:39
“I say, I say, don’t bother me with the facts son, I’ve already made up my mind.” A bit of wisdom from one of my favorite cartoon characters, Foghorn Leghorn. It also sounds a lot like the Pharisees in their discourse with the blind man whom Jesus healed in John chapter nine. Have you ever been so sure you were right about something, you knew there was no way you were wrong, only to find out later you were? Me too. On little things, it really isn’t that big a deal. We’re all wrong at times, and it’s important that we admit it; that’s how we learn. But, on the big order questions of life – it matters.
The Leaders of the Jews were convinced they were right about Jesus; they had Him all figured out. In their mind, there was no way He was from God. In fact, they thought Jesus was from the Devil (Matt. 12:24), but they couldn’t have been more wrong. As they grilled the blind man, who was healed (John 9:18-41) about Jesus’ origins, the Pharisees couldn’t accept that He was from God. The healed man was amazed at their blindness (John 9:30). How could they not know He was from God? No one in the history of the world ever gave sight to someone born blind.
Lent is a great time to discover new truth about ourselves, and about God. Through the practice of spiritual disciplines like prayer and fasting, God will open our hearts and minds to new knowledge of Him, as He draws us deeper into the Spirit-filled life. However, all that fasting and prayer won’t make a bit of difference unless we can be taught. Are you open to being taught?
Each Lenten season the Father shows me new areas of life in which He wants me to improve. Sometimes the learning process feels like a fire that burns away at me; other times it’s more like a flood about to overwhelm me. It’s in those feelings of being overwhelmed that I must learn not react defensively with God. If I really want to know I’m right, I must admit when I’m wrong, even though it hurts,
Most of the Jewish leaders couldn’t admit they were wrong about Jesus. They couldn’t admit their blindness. They were convinced they could see him clearly, and that’s why they were lost.
“Jesus said to them, “If you were blind, you would have no guilt; but now that you say, ‘We see,’ your guilt remains.” (John 9:41)
What about you? Are you too stubborn to admit your wrong, even in the face of overwhelming facts? Let God renew your heart by opening your eyes as you prepare for the miracle of Easter. Don’t be like my friend Foghorn. At the end of each episode, it never worked out for him. His stubbornness was his undoing. We laugh at cartoons, but this is real life. You can get a lot of things wrong in life, and still be okay. But, on the big order questions of life, if you get Jesus wrong…your eternity may hang in the balance.
Shalom,
Pastor Brad
My daily Lenten prayer – “Restore to me the joy of your salvation,
and sustain in me a willing spirit. ” NRSV
I always thought grief was the range of emotions people went through after the death of loved one, or a traumatic loss. I couldn’t imagine that I was in grief. After all, it was eight months already since my brother died so, I didn’t think it was from that. Yet, I couldn’t explain my feelings. I had had my heart defibrillator for about a month when the feelings began.
I turned in my heart monitor thinking I would finally find out why my heart rhythms were so crazy. I had worn it for a week. Every time I felt some strange rhythms I had to push a button that would record what my heart was doing. Each day I had to upload the data to the Dr.’s office so they could monitor anything dangerous. My last upload was Monday night, and Tuesday noon I went to turn it in to the office. I couldn’t believe what they told me. “Everything looks okay. There are some arrhythmias but nothing bad.” There had to be more to the story.
It was a hot afternoon and I had just finished playing Tennis with my Pastor. There was a family in the church who had a swimming pool and they had told him that he could use it any time. I told him I couldn’t swim, but he said I could just cool off in the shallow end. So, we went to the pool to relax and cool off. My Pastor got out of the pool and decided to lay in the sun for a while. I thought this would be a great time to practice my float on my back as I had in the swim lessons I’d taken about a year before. The next thing I knew, my life was literally flashing before my eyes.
In that moment, in the blink of an eye, I went from calm and serene, to shear panic. My life literally flashed before my eyes. I thought this was the end. I was going to drown in that pool. But, my pastor was there. Surely, he would jump in and save me. I cried out to the Lord, “Save me O God! Don’t let me die like this!” Just then, my toes hit concrete and I could drag myself to the edge of the pool. There at the edge of the pool, standing down and looking in was my Pastor. He said, “Are you alright?”. The only thing I could manage to say between coughing up water was, “No, thanks to you! What happened to all that talk of laying down your life for a friend? You didn’t jump in to save me!” To which he said, “The way you were flailing around, you would have dragged us both down!”
Don’t you hate it when someone says to you, “Is it too much to ask?” If I hear those words, (Which always seem to carry a note of disgust in their tone) correctly, I’ve let them down in some way. Maybe it was a breakdown in communication, or perhaps I just didn’t want to do what was asked of me. Either way, in their mind, I let them down. I hate to let people down.
Sometimes, I sense God saying those words I hate to me… “Brad, can’t you be happy with your comfortable life I’ve blessed you with, your family and friends, the roof over your head and all the food in your pantry? Is that too much to ask?” I know I’m not the only one with this problem of thanklessness; it seems to be pandemic in our culture.
Many people walk through life with heavy hearts. Some are heavy because of sadness or grief, some because of consequence. To some people Lent seems a time for sadness. They dwell upon their sin and sing “woe is me”. They think that in their sadness the Lord is pleased. While it is true that we should be sorrowful for our sins, it’s not true that we should dwell in that sorrow.
The taste of Life Boy soap in my mouth still lingers when I remember that day. I was sitting on the back steps of our friends’ house in Colorado Springs. My friend was teaching me to play a game. Every time you say a “cuss” word you get slugged in the arm. There were two points to that game; to see how many cuss words you can think of, and to see how tough you were in who could take the most hits.
When I was a little boy of 4 or 5 years, and people would come to our house to visit, I always thought they were coming to see me; of course, they weren’t. But that didn’t stop me from wanting to be in on everything that was being said. I didn’t want to miss out on anything. The guests had come to see my Mom or Dad, but that wasn’t obvious to me. After all, why wouldn’t they come to see me? But then, what my Mom and Dad would usually say to me was crushing.