Eyes Opened (or Not)

It's the 273rd day of 2017, in case you missed it. I know that because the Bible app that I use to read through the Bible in a year tells me so. Today's Old Testament reading was in Jeremiah. Poor Jeremiah, one of the most unsuccessful (as far as converts) prophets ever. I have to take a deep breath before reading Jeremiah. But today I noticed something new.

Jeremiah 2:5-6; and verse 8a (emphasis mine):

Thus says the Lord:

“What wrong did your fathers find in me
    that they went far from me,
and went after worthlessness, and became worthless?
 They did not say, ‘Where is the Lord
    who brought us up from the land of Egypt,
who led us in the wilderness,
    in a land of deserts and pits,
in a land of drought and deep darkness,
    in a land that none passes through,
    where no man dwells?’ 

The priests did not say, ‘Where is the Lord? Those who handle the law did not know me; 

The passage addresses the idolatry of Israel's people even after they had been delivered from Egypt by God. Israel has strayed and hardships are happening, but the people aren't asking where God is. Instead, they are turning to idols and trying to solve the problems on their own.

The phrase "Where is God?" can be uttered with either anticipation or despair. I recently attended a women's retreat and played hooky from one of the sessions. I hiked up a hill with only my Bible--and not any Bible, but my old, big, actual paper and ink Bible--and a pen. No phone at all. Just me and God and my Bible sitting on an old bench under a tree.

That morning, God used the story of Bartimaeus, the blind beggar, recorded in Mark 10. Bartimaeus is sitting by the road and hears Jesus walking by. He cries out "Son of David, have mercy on me" repeatedly, annoying the people nearby. Jesus stops and asks him what the beggar wants Jesus to do for him. Bartimaeus replies, "Rabbi, let me recover my sight." Jesus immediately restores his sight.

I realized that for many months lately, I had been blind to the workings of the Lord. That morning, it was me who was crying out to God to have mercy on me and to restore my sight so that I could see Him at work. Instead of blindly going through life not seeing what God is doing, I wanted to see with my eyes of faith and believe that God is always present and active.

I believe that God has restored my spiritual sight. I have recognized God's hand and provision in big and small instances in the last few weeks. Even this morning, to hear God speak to me though my daily reading is a moment of seeing clearly. Today I ask "Where is God?" with anticipation as I search for His hand and touch in the world around me.

However, "Where is God?" is sometimes cried with despair and hopelessness. Job cries for the Lord this way. Hannah prayed this way when begging for a child. I have asked this when I can't see what God is doing and it feels like He's far away. From the words in Jeremiah, I think that God wants us to ask the question from either emotion. He just wants us to turn toward Him, whether we are blind and groping wildly or have our eyes open, seeking purposefully.

Jeremiah's words may have gone unheeded in his time, but I heard them loud and clear at the breakfast table this morning!

Would I have Come?

Mark 5:21-43 tells of Jesus' healing of the woman with the issue of blood and Jairus' daughter. I'm still trying to figure out what it looks like to have faith. Today I wonder if it begins even earlier in the sequence than I imagined. Jairus' daughter is at the brink of death. He knows that Jesus, this man with a reputation for healing and miracles is in the area. What makes him go? Desperation? Knowing there was no other solution? Love for his daughter? I wonder how much of his "faith" was true belief that Jesus could do it versus hope that He would do it? And for the bleeding woman? What motivated her to make her way through the crowd (and anyone at any moment could have outed her and shouted "unclean") to merely touch Jesus?

Is the faith all in the believing, or is some of it in the seeking and going? Would I have gone? Would I have hoped/believed enough to try, or would I have let fear keep me home? Fear of embarrassment, rejection, not being good enough to receive the blessing. . . all those fears might have kept me away from Jesus. They keep me away now, and that is what I am trying to analyze and overcome. Jesus is not physically walking among us, but if we are believers, we have the power of the Holy Spirit (the power that raised Christ from the dead) in us. Jesus is still healing and saving today. How do we (how do I) overcome our fear and have the faith to go to Him and boldly ask for what we need?

Hardening our Hearts

I don't like the Pharisees. I especially don't like them because I think I would have been one of them. The beginning of Mark 3 tells about Jesus healing on the Sabbath. The whole theme of Jesus healing on the Sabbath and the Pharisees getting upset seems to recur throughout the gospels. This time it is a man with a withered hand, and Jesus asks the Pharisees point blank about the rules of the Sabbath (Mark 3:4b-5):

. . . "Is it lawful on the Sabbath to do good or to do harm, to save life or to kill?" But they were silent. And he looked around at them with anger, grieved at their hardness of heart, and said to the man, "Stretch out your hand." He stretched it out, and his hand was restored.

The words I'm thinking about this morning are that Jesus was "grieved at their hardness of heart." Why were their hearts hard? Why does my heart become hard? What causes us to value rules and order over people's lives? I wonder if part of it is focus. If the Pharisees truly saw the man with the withered hand and understood how that affected his whole life, surely they would have compassion? If they saw the woman bent over for 18 years and realized the freedom she would gain from standing upright (Luke 18:10), would they begrudge her healing?

If, however, their focus is themselves and their need for order, control, and validation, then maybe they only saw the people in relation to themselves, and as a threat to their control and sense of righteousness? I'm still pondering this, because I don't want to be someone with a hard heart and someone without compassion, and I know that, without Jesus, I would be that Pharisee shaking their finger at the "rule-breakers."

Open Our Eyes

Nearing the end of the book of Matthew, Jesus is heading to Jerusalem for the Passover before His crucifixion. On the way, He meets two blind beggars (Matthew 20:30-34):

And behold, there were two blind men sitting by the roadside, and when they heard that Jesus was passing by, they cried out, "Lord, have mercy on us, Son of David!" The crowd rebuked them, telling them to be silent, but they cried out all the more, "Lord, have mercy on us, Son of David!" And stopping, Jesus called them and said, "What do you want me to do for you?" They said to him, "Lord, let our eyes be opened." And Jesus in pity touched their eyes, and immediately they recovered their sight and followed him.

I've always liked this account because I like how the beggars cry out "all the more" after the crowd rebuked them. I've always envied their persistence and their faith that, if Jesus would just hear them, He would heal them.

Today I noticed the sequence of events: The beggars called out to the Lord, asking for their eyes to be opened. Jesus touched their eyes, they recovered their sight, and they followed Him.

It's a lot like the sequence of salvation: We cry out to God for Him to show us Himself. He opens our eyes and hearts to see and believe who He is, and our response should be to follow Him.

Extending the analogy further, even as we are following Christ, there are times when our eyes are shut (or we think they are) and we can't see the next step, or can't understand what God is doing in our life. I think we need to be like the beggars, calling out to the Lord to have mercy on us and to open our eyes to what He is doing. It may not (probably won't) happen right away--who knows how long the beggars had sat by that side of the road, waiting for the Messiah, but Jesus will, in His time, come and open our eyes.

The analogy breaks down a bit in the fact that we need to follow Jesus sometimes even when we can't see where we are going. We need to have faith in who He has already shown Himself to be to us and keep walking, trusting that He will open our eyes to what He wants us to see when the time is right.

Would that I would to be as persistent and shameless as those beggars in seeking the healing of Jesus.