Scripture reflection: How good works and questioning our perceptions brings us into the light
I'm sure many of you know that feeling...either sitting in church listening to the Word or reading it yourself at home (or in my own typical case, reading along with a podcast)...and as you begin to understand the message, a smile creeps over your face, or a peace settles in your heart, because it speaks directly to a journey, a mission, a question, or a worry. (Of course, sometimes, it'll do the opposite and make you feel accused and sick, because it's gotten to the heart of a matter you've been hiding from. That's actually good, too, but today is not one of those days.) As I've been meditating a lot on the progressive teachings in the Bible, and of Jesus in particular, this set of readings really settles in well with that and has presented me with this lovely opportunity to reflect with you today.
Today's readings came from 1 Samuel 16:1-13, Ephesians 5:8-14, and John 9:1-41.
There are two primary themes among all of these readings: the dichotomy between both symbolic and literal light and darkness, and the idea that one sees best sometimes not with their eyes, but with their heart. Both of these themes show up in literature a lot, not just in the Bible, though regardless of where you find them, the lessons they teach are the same.
The light and darkness one is an easy one to work out, for the most part--light is good; dark is bad. But there is a little more to it than that, especially in today's reading. There's the idea presented that one shouldn't do things in darkness, because people might think you're up to something. This doesn't literally mean, "don't work at night," but rather it's a symbolic device used to illustrate that you shouldn't do anything in private that you'd be ashamed of if people found out. The passage in Ephesians is a little more direct about this than is the story in John, but Paul still waxes a little poetic about it and even suggests that doing good deeds "in the light" shines a light on the darkness (not necessarily your own, but often that of the society you're in) to expose something bad, and that the good deeds can even make the bad things into light. We can see many examples of this principle in works of charity, mercy, and justice, as people do good works that expose the darkness of poverty, cruelty, and injustice and spur others onward to rectify them.
This, then, fits in nicely with the other theme of seeing better with your heart (or soul) than with your eyes. Or, to take the corollary, what is in one's heart is more important than outward appearance. This is illustrated as Samuel regards Jesse's seven sons and thinks, "surely, one of these strong, handsome men is God's anointed," but God says to Samuel, "Not so fast; while you only see what looks good on the outside, I see what looks good on the inside, and none of these men is the one I'm looking for." And as it turned out, the one God was looking for was David, Jesse's youngest son, whom his own father did not judge as important enough to come to the sacrifice.
This scene is echoed in the reading in John in a slightly more symbolic way. There's a lot of perceiving going on in this story--people perceive the blind man as being punished for sin, either his own or his parents'. Then, after the blind man is healed, we learn that many people had defined him by his disability, and when he came to them able to see, many did not think he was the same man as they had seen begging before. When the Pharisees asked the man how he was able to see, they perceived the act of healing as not coming from God, because Jesus performed it on the Sabbath. When the Jews came to the man's parents asking what they believed about what happened, they merely said to ask their son, because they didn't want to be perceived as believing that Jesus was the Christ. And finally, when the man was asked a second time about how he came to be healed, his response lends clarity to the whole meaning of the story, using the literary device of the blind man who sees things more clearly than those with sight, because he sees with the heart rather than his eyes. And like in Samuel, everyone in this story perceives only through the eyes of men, which are limited in their capacity to see what is truly important.
As we unravel the somewhat cryptic moral, as spoken by Jesus, “For judgment I came into this world, so that those who do not see may see, and that those who see may become blind....If you were blind, you would have no sin; but since you say, ‘We see,’ your sin remains," we find a reiteration in terms of what the story in Samuel illustrates as well as that classic reversal of wisdom that is common in Jesus' teachings--that those who "see," that is, they only see through the common sight of man, remain sinners, because they do not know how look deeper than just the appearance of things and are thus blind to them. But those who have been blind (either literally or figuratively) know how to see more than just what is in front of their eyes, and therefore can get to the truth of the matter more readily--in this case, the truth about the kingdom of God.
Putting it all together, being able to perceive truth and "see" with more than just your eyes is one of the things that shines light on the darkness, whether it's your own or that of the society in which you live, and is the first step toward working "in the light" to expose and overcome that darkness.