Tuesday, March 10, 2026

You See? (Reflections on Lent 4, Year A 2026)

 


Jesus said, “I came into this world for judgment, so that those who do not see may see and those who do see may become blind.” (John 9:39)

Sometimes we only see what we want to see. I guess every dumb thing I’ve ever done looked like a good idea at the time.

There’s a great story in the first pericope lesson appointed in the Revised Common Lectionary for Lent 4 (1 Samuel 16:1-13). I really love the whole saga of the kings of Israel in the Hebrew scriptures. It’s full of jealousy, plotting, intrigue, and general skullduggery. All of First and Second Samuel and a good chunk of Kings and Chronicles reads kind of like a Tom Clancey novel. But I digress.

I think the compilers of the Lectionary wanted us to focus on verse 7: “…for the Lord does not see as mortals see; they look on the outward appearance, but the Lord looks on the heart.” Jesse’s youngest boy, David, doesn’t look like the kind of guy who should be king over Israel, but God sees what everyone else seems to be missing.

If you know this story, you know there’s a woeful lack of vision here. It starts earlier when the people of Israel look around and see that all the other peoples in the ancient Near East have kings, and they decide they should have a king. So, they go to their prophet Samuel and ask him to ask God for a king. God knows this is a real lack of insight on the part of the people. He tells Sam to warn the folks that giving so much power to one mortal dude is going to bring about a world of grief. The only king should be the Lord God. Samuel passes on the message. Do the people listen? Heck no! They see all the other tribes with kings, and they want one too. Okay, God says, but when this guy turns out to be a jerk, don’t come crying to me.

God does pick a pretty good guy to be king. Saul is a big, tall, impressive looking fellow, and he manages to get the job done of defeating some of Israel’s enemies. But then he gets blinded by his own success, violates the separation of powers, and ignores the commands of God. When Saul starts thinking he can do whatever he wants, God withdraws God’s support. Samuel has to look for a new king to anoint.

Spoiler alert here. Saul anoints David—the least likely candidate—and David is a really righteous guy. He fights bravely for his country, and he refuses to denounce Saul even though jealous Saul has put a hit out on him. David respects the king’s office. When Saul is killed in battle and David is crowned, he reacts with humility. But then he gets blinded by his victories and the love the people show him. Almost as soon as the crown goes on his head, David becomes just as corrupt as Saul. Of course, David ultimately sees the error of his ways, but at the end of his life his personal life is spilled porta-potty. He dies a beloved monarch but a sad old man. I have to wonder if God saw that coming.

We see what we want to see. It’s possible to have such a great vision that we become blind. In 2007 I read Rick Warren’s The Purpose Driven Church and I became inspired to launch a massive direct mail evangelism project. I raised thousands of dollars for postage and printing and planned to reach 22,000 households within a two-mile radius of the church. A beloved older sister of the church told me she had seen such a program before and assured me it would not work. Rather, I’d simply be wasting the congregation’s time and financial resources. Nevertheless, I pressed on. The program reached the 22,000 homes and netted Faith Lutheran the growth of exactly one new family—a family which vanished from our pews as soon as the youngest child made confirmation. The venerable sister saw what I did not.

Of course, Rick Warren’s vision wasn’t exactly 20/20. He saw the potential of using business-style marketing tools to attract “seekers” to his Southern California congregation. He revamped the church by eliminating the arcane symbols and vocabulary of Christianity which might’ve been off-putting to people unfamiliar with the faith. What he failed to see was, by eliminating symbols and traditions which had such deep historic meaning, he was alienating older Christians and failing to provide the newcomers with the profound substance of life in Jesus Christ.

Our gospel lesson (John 9:1-41) is full of myopic people. The disciples don’t see the young mendicant as a child of God. They see only his affliction and see that as a sign of punishment for sin. The bystanders who behold the miracle of the blind man receiving sight don’t believe their eyes. They can’t see the miracle because they don’t believe there could really be one. The blind man’s parents don’t see the joy and new life this healing has given their boy. They only see their status in the community is threatened. The Pharisees, of course, don’t see the Son of God in their midst. They only see the infraction of Sabbath law—a law they jealously guard as a symbol of their own self-righteous importance.

What are we not seeing? What does God want us to observe about our lives or the lives of others or the work God is doing to which we have turned a blind eye? Can we admit we might be missing something? We observe the outward appearance, but the Lord looks on the heart.

I think these stories in our lessons are appropriate for the penitent season of Lent. Sometimes we just have to admit—at least I have to—that we’re groping in the darkness. Lord, you know our hearts. Show us where we’ve wandered off the road. Show us what we are too stubborn to see. Help us to see as you see.

God bless you, my friend. I’m honored you came to visit my blog. Please come again.

 

 

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