March 22, 2020
The 4th Sunday in Lent
The Second Sunday in the American Season of Coronavirus
"Why did this happen?"
Psalm 23 (NRSV)
The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want.
He makes me lie down in green pastures; he leads me beside still waters;
he restores my soul. He leads me in right paths for his name’s sake.
Even though I walk through the darkest valley, I fear no evil; for you are with me; your rod and your staff— they comfort me.
You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies; you anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows.
Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life, and I shall dwell in the house of the Lord my whole life long.
I didn’t always like Psalm 23. I wasn’t sure I appreciated being called a sheep—sheep being fairly dumb creatures—but now I think it wasn’t so much that I disliked being compared to mutton, after all, the metaphor works because it’s TRUE.
I disliked the idea that God would make me do anything. MAKE me lie down in green pastures, lead me beside still waters, restore my soul. Maybe I didn’t want those particular things, maybe I didn’t want to be so closely guarded. I’d make a pretty pig-headed sheep. Exactly the kind they warn new shepherds about.
But now every time I think on Psalm 23, I remember this story I heard back when I was working at Ferncliff Camp and Conference Center, I heard the tale of back when the camp allowed dogs—they had two. Two dogs named “Mercy” and “Goodness.” Because they would follow you all the days of your life. And dad joke is made even better when you realize that Mercy and Goodness don’t just follow you—the word here is more like PURSUE you. Mercy and Goodness will chase you down, will find you whether you want it or not.
And these days, I hope that’s true. I want something good to hunt me down, find me, because I think I need the help. I want someone good to come looking for me.
---------------
The disciples were walking along, and they see a blind man, and asked Jesus, “Who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?” Given options A or B, Jesus chose C: “Neither this man nor his parents sinned… this happened so that God’s works might be revealed in him.”
I’m caught by the word “this” in the sentence, because to my suspicious ears that sounds a lot like a god who needed a PR opportunity, a chance to flex holy miracle muscles, and I’m not interested in that god.
So look deeper. Translators have long assumed “this happened” meant his blindness (the NRSV translation even goes so far as to insert the words “he was born blind” when they are not present in the Greek).
Furthermore, there is no punctuation in the Greek as we know it, and so there is reason to wonder whether we’ve got the wrong phrasing. If the sentence ends “Neither this man nor his parents sinned.” [Full Stop]...then the next sentence reads, “But in order that the works of God may be made apparent in him, it is necessary for us to work the works of the one having sent me while it is day. Night comes when nobody is able to work.”[1]
This is important, because suddenly this story isn’t about the disciples wrong question about sin, nor my question of human suffering –it isn’t about a God who will capriciously cause birth defects just to show off how great he is--
But now every time I think on Psalm 23, I remember this story I heard back when I was working at Ferncliff Camp and Conference Center, I heard the tale of back when the camp allowed dogs—they had two. Two dogs named “Mercy” and “Goodness.” Because they would follow you all the days of your life. And dad joke is made even better when you realize that Mercy and Goodness don’t just follow you—the word here is more like PURSUE you. Mercy and Goodness will chase you down, will find you whether you want it or not.
And these days, I hope that’s true. I want something good to hunt me down, find me, because I think I need the help. I want someone good to come looking for me.
---------------
The disciples were walking along, and they see a blind man, and asked Jesus, “Who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?” Given options A or B, Jesus chose C: “Neither this man nor his parents sinned… this happened so that God’s works might be revealed in him.”
I’m caught by the word “this” in the sentence, because to my suspicious ears that sounds a lot like a god who needed a PR opportunity, a chance to flex holy miracle muscles, and I’m not interested in that god.
So look deeper. Translators have long assumed “this happened” meant his blindness (the NRSV translation even goes so far as to insert the words “he was born blind” when they are not present in the Greek).
Furthermore, there is no punctuation in the Greek as we know it, and so there is reason to wonder whether we’ve got the wrong phrasing. If the sentence ends “Neither this man nor his parents sinned.” [Full Stop]...then the next sentence reads, “But in order that the works of God may be made apparent in him, it is necessary for us to work the works of the one having sent me while it is day. Night comes when nobody is able to work.”[1]
This is important, because suddenly this story isn’t about the disciples wrong question about sin, nor my question of human suffering –it isn’t about a God who will capriciously cause birth defects just to show off how great he is--
—it is about God responding in mercy to human suffering. It IS about working the works of God in this moment in RESPONSE to suffering. NOW it is day. Night is coming when no one can work—so do God’s work while you can.
It’s a little on the nose for today, don’t you think?
So let the text to go further; what if “this happened” refers to “this moment,” as in “this conversation,” or “this presence of God?” The disciples ask the wrong question—why is this man blind?—rather than ask “Lord, what are you going to do with his blindness?” Or better yet, “Lord, what is mine to do for him?” And here’s where things get real sticky.
Jesus made a paste of mud and spit, put it on the man’s eyes and told him to go wash in the pool of the Siloam—and lo, the man came back, able to see. That’s what Jesus did with the man’s blindness. But what did all the other people in the formerly blind man’s life do with his blindness—or sudden lack thereof? What did they do?
Well first they can’t agree—is this the man who used to be a beggar or someone who looks like him? It is as if they didn’t really see him before, never took a good look at him, and now they struggle to see him too. The Pharisees can’t agree either, so after first not believing what the formerly blind man had to say about his own experience, the Pharisees get smart and ask the formerly blind man’s parents, “Is this your son, who you say was born blind? How then does he now see?” and in essence his parents reply, “Yep, this is our kid, and he was born blind, but we don’t know how he was healed. Ask him. He’s old enough.”
The text makes it clear his parents are afraid of the Pharisees so they aren’t exactly supportive in this moment. There’s no hint of joy. It’s actually, surprisingly, pretty cold, as if perhaps his own parents had stopped seeing him long ago. And then of course the formerly blind man defends Jesus, and he’s summarily kicked out of the temple—back to the margins of society he goes.
Suddenly the question “Who sinned,” is a very serious one, because surely somebody had taken the blame for what was seen as a very unfortunate experience in life (looks like the man himself got blamed—he’s the one left begging despite having a family and neighbors). We may not want to admit it, but when any difference, any misfortune, is seen as shameful or somehow catching--the community tends to come up with reasons for treating that person as less-than, and often one that blames the victim rather than helping them.
Hello opening weeks of the American Coronavirus Pandemic. It’s nice to see you.
I cannot help but find this text to be a word of warning and a word of grace in our world situation at this very moment. When headlines and personal diaries ask the same questions: Why is this pandemic happening? Why are people getting sick? Who sinned, that this disease is sweeping through communities so fast? Did they touch their face, or not wash their hands? Who is to blame?
“Neither this man nor his parents sinned… this happened so that the works of God might be displayed in him; for As long as it is day, we must do the works of him who sent me.” That bears repeating.
“As long as it is day, we must do the works of him who sent me.”
I don’t think COVID-19 happened because of a government conspiracy, or because God wanted to make a point—either about sin or punishment. I think natural disasters happen because the world is fallen and all creation is groaning for redemption. I don’t think this text is at all interested in finding blame for personal natural disasters either. Take this scripture as a mirror to our present, and I hear Jesus say that this man’s difference —his illness—is not due to sin at all. His condition of being a beggar however, speaks to the community that stopped seeing him long ago, and decided someone had to take the blame.
It’s simply the nature of the virus to continue to spread in our community. But how we respond matters. Blaming those who become ill, isolating them even further than “social distancing” and quarantine require, is to stop seeing people in their need and to make them beggars. And we see it in the social media posts of sarcasm and cruelty. We see it in off color jokes about Chinese food, and in the very real anger people experience if they cough in public. We run the risk of scaring people into NOT being tested, not admitting they are in need of care.
We run the risk of being blinded ourselves by fear. So look again—what does Jesus do?
“…this happened in order that the works of God may be made apparent in him; it is necessary for us to work the works of the one having sent me while it is day. Night comes when nobody is able to work.”
This! Can we be confident that this a moment that God’s works might be revealed? It’s not about why the man is blind, it’s about what God will do with it. And such might be said of what God is doing with you right now.
Healthy or ill, this moment, this moment happening RIGHT NOW when you are reading these words, this moment is so that you might have God revealed to you. The great news is that God goes with you through the storm, and you are not alone. Not even when you feel like you’ve been cast out. “This” happened and God doesn’t go away, God stays; is with us in the dark valley, guiding us through, providing what we need, especially when what we need is rest.
Imagine Psalm 23 on the lips of the formerly blind man, naming who God is to him and what God has already done. Imagine Psalm 23 is for you in this moment too.
The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want—
God goes with me as guide and provider; I am given what I need.
He makes me lie down in green pastures; he leads me beside still waters; God gives me rest and quiet.
he restores my soul. God knits up my wounds, heals me, comforts me.
He leads me in right paths for his name’s sake.
He takes an active part in guiding me toward a better future.
Even though I walk through the darkest valley, I fear no evil;
I am not promised a safe and smooth road, but I’m not afraid
for you are with me; your rod and your staff— they comfort me;
because I belong to you, I know you will find ways to guide me.
You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies;
you feed me with plentiful spiritual food, even in the midst of terrible events,
you anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows;
I am blessed, I am blessed, I am blessed.
You are blessed. You are blessed. You are blessed.
Surely goodness and mercy shall follow you all the days of your life,
I know God’s loving kindness will chase you down and find You,
everyday,
and you shall dwell in the house of the Lord your whole life long;
Your home will be with God. Amen.
[1] https://leftbehindandlovingit.blogspot.com/search?q=%22John+9%22&max-results=20&by-date=true, by Mark Davis, March 15, 2020.
It’s a little on the nose for today, don’t you think?
So let the text to go further; what if “this happened” refers to “this moment,” as in “this conversation,” or “this presence of God?” The disciples ask the wrong question—why is this man blind?—rather than ask “Lord, what are you going to do with his blindness?” Or better yet, “Lord, what is mine to do for him?” And here’s where things get real sticky.
Jesus made a paste of mud and spit, put it on the man’s eyes and told him to go wash in the pool of the Siloam—and lo, the man came back, able to see. That’s what Jesus did with the man’s blindness. But what did all the other people in the formerly blind man’s life do with his blindness—or sudden lack thereof? What did they do?
Well first they can’t agree—is this the man who used to be a beggar or someone who looks like him? It is as if they didn’t really see him before, never took a good look at him, and now they struggle to see him too. The Pharisees can’t agree either, so after first not believing what the formerly blind man had to say about his own experience, the Pharisees get smart and ask the formerly blind man’s parents, “Is this your son, who you say was born blind? How then does he now see?” and in essence his parents reply, “Yep, this is our kid, and he was born blind, but we don’t know how he was healed. Ask him. He’s old enough.”
The text makes it clear his parents are afraid of the Pharisees so they aren’t exactly supportive in this moment. There’s no hint of joy. It’s actually, surprisingly, pretty cold, as if perhaps his own parents had stopped seeing him long ago. And then of course the formerly blind man defends Jesus, and he’s summarily kicked out of the temple—back to the margins of society he goes.
Suddenly the question “Who sinned,” is a very serious one, because surely somebody had taken the blame for what was seen as a very unfortunate experience in life (looks like the man himself got blamed—he’s the one left begging despite having a family and neighbors). We may not want to admit it, but when any difference, any misfortune, is seen as shameful or somehow catching--the community tends to come up with reasons for treating that person as less-than, and often one that blames the victim rather than helping them.
Hello opening weeks of the American Coronavirus Pandemic. It’s nice to see you.
I cannot help but find this text to be a word of warning and a word of grace in our world situation at this very moment. When headlines and personal diaries ask the same questions: Why is this pandemic happening? Why are people getting sick? Who sinned, that this disease is sweeping through communities so fast? Did they touch their face, or not wash their hands? Who is to blame?
“Neither this man nor his parents sinned… this happened so that the works of God might be displayed in him; for As long as it is day, we must do the works of him who sent me.” That bears repeating.
“As long as it is day, we must do the works of him who sent me.”
I don’t think COVID-19 happened because of a government conspiracy, or because God wanted to make a point—either about sin or punishment. I think natural disasters happen because the world is fallen and all creation is groaning for redemption. I don’t think this text is at all interested in finding blame for personal natural disasters either. Take this scripture as a mirror to our present, and I hear Jesus say that this man’s difference —his illness—is not due to sin at all. His condition of being a beggar however, speaks to the community that stopped seeing him long ago, and decided someone had to take the blame.
It’s simply the nature of the virus to continue to spread in our community. But how we respond matters. Blaming those who become ill, isolating them even further than “social distancing” and quarantine require, is to stop seeing people in their need and to make them beggars. And we see it in the social media posts of sarcasm and cruelty. We see it in off color jokes about Chinese food, and in the very real anger people experience if they cough in public. We run the risk of scaring people into NOT being tested, not admitting they are in need of care.
We run the risk of being blinded ourselves by fear. So look again—what does Jesus do?
“…this happened in order that the works of God may be made apparent in him; it is necessary for us to work the works of the one having sent me while it is day. Night comes when nobody is able to work.”
This! Can we be confident that this a moment that God’s works might be revealed? It’s not about why the man is blind, it’s about what God will do with it. And such might be said of what God is doing with you right now.
Healthy or ill, this moment, this moment happening RIGHT NOW when you are reading these words, this moment is so that you might have God revealed to you. The great news is that God goes with you through the storm, and you are not alone. Not even when you feel like you’ve been cast out. “This” happened and God doesn’t go away, God stays; is with us in the dark valley, guiding us through, providing what we need, especially when what we need is rest.
Imagine Psalm 23 on the lips of the formerly blind man, naming who God is to him and what God has already done. Imagine Psalm 23 is for you in this moment too.
The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want—
God goes with me as guide and provider; I am given what I need.
He makes me lie down in green pastures; he leads me beside still waters; God gives me rest and quiet.
he restores my soul. God knits up my wounds, heals me, comforts me.
He leads me in right paths for his name’s sake.
He takes an active part in guiding me toward a better future.
Even though I walk through the darkest valley, I fear no evil;
I am not promised a safe and smooth road, but I’m not afraid
for you are with me; your rod and your staff— they comfort me;
because I belong to you, I know you will find ways to guide me.
You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies;
you feed me with plentiful spiritual food, even in the midst of terrible events,
you anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows;
I am blessed, I am blessed, I am blessed.
You are blessed. You are blessed. You are blessed.
Surely goodness and mercy shall follow you all the days of your life,
I know God’s loving kindness will chase you down and find You,
everyday,
and you shall dwell in the house of the Lord your whole life long;
Your home will be with God. Amen.
[1] https://leftbehindandlovingit.blogspot.com/search?q=%22John+9%22&max-results=20&by-date=true, by Mark Davis, March 15, 2020.
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