The Rev. Robert Lundquist Lent IV-A 3/6/05 St Paul’s, Ft Collins

I’d like to begin with a language lesson this morning. How many of you speak Zulu? A traditional greeting in Zulu is “Sawu Bona” This means “I see you.” The proper response is “Sikhona” -- “I am here!” On this day on which we consider blindness and sight, this is a wonderful way of considering this aspect of community. Sawu Bona – I see you. Sikhona – I am here. In other words, “Until you see me, I don not exist.” Or, “When you see me, you bring me into existence.” Of course this is more that the old concept of schmoozing – to see and be seen. This is an acknowledgement that we are community when we see, or acknowledge, each other. We cannot be in community when we ignore or discount another. This spirit of Ubuntu is widely recognized in South Africa. Ubuntu means “A person is a person because of other people.”

We actually have a similar greeting used in our worship, a phrase of recognition: “The LORD is with you!” “And also with you!” We are called as Christians to be in community, to cease from judging or labeling each other. We are to welcome all the children of God, to see them as people, to see them as God sees them. Because, according to Paul, we are “children of the Light.”

The irony in today’s Gospel lesson is that it is a blind man who lives out the lesson of seeing. And there is an interesting question in considering this passage: Is the man born blind a person… or a problem? We hear that Jesus sees the man while the disciples ask about him. He’s a dilemma to be solved – was it he or his parents that sinned? This isn’t as harsh as it sounds, for there are passages in the Hebrew scriptures that reference God causing blindness and sight. But in this instance the disciples are not reacting with compassion toward the man born blind, but with intellectual and impersonal curiosity.

Once the man receives his sight, it seems that everyone else loses theirs. His neighbors are thrown into consternation – is he or isn’t he the beggar they knew? Perhaps his sighted twin? They can’t decide, so he’s a problem to them. They take him to the Pharisees, and they also see a problem rather than a person. How could a sinner have given him sight? For Jesus had violated the “three strikes” rule, having broken the Sabbath by healing the sick, by anointing another (with the mud), and by working – changing a substance by making mud out of dirt. All of this points to the deeper question: “What does God want me to do?” Over and over this is Jesus’ consideration throughout the Gospels. “What does God desire?” The letter of the law and the movement of the Spirit – these are held in tension by Jesus in constantly provocative ways.

The man born blind is even a problem for his own parents. They fear ostracism, being cast out of the community. “He’s of age, ask him yourself!” We flinch at their coldness. Only the man born blind and Jesus celebrate his healing! Can’t anyone see what has happened? “None are so blind as those who will not see,” to quote an old adage. In today’s Gospel we behold that the sighted are blind, and the blind see when illuminated by the Light of the World. Only Jesus seems to know that the man born blind is a person, not a problem.

Sawu Bona! I see you. Sikhona! I am here. We are in a time of opening our eyes in healing and growing. Our Parish Day of Healing yesterday was a profound blessing for St Paul’s, for all who attended, and for me. Through our stories, our prayers and poems, and our sharing, we became more open and vulnerable to each other, and thus to God. Someone said (and we agreed not to quote each other, but to share ideas and learnings) that, in effect, St Paul’s time with Bob Davidson as Rector was like having the community’s window cleaned or defogged. Through his focus and energy over those 6 months he brought a new clarity which allowed St Paul’s to truly see itself clearly, to perceive with power what and who St Paul’s can be. This is a beautiful gift, this gift of sight. And it is a lasting gift, not undone by the events that led up to his departure in December. Part of our grieving his leaving is to name the blessings he brought into our midst, and we celebrate the good work God is doing through Bob’s ministry in our midst.

We know more clearly, St Paul’s, that this is a time of healing, of releasing the old and turning toward the new. The fruits of this work are seen in our healthy relationships, our positive efforts, and the agape love we find in our fellowship. We are seeing the new, with eyes more closely aligned with God’s.

I served for a brief time under Bishop Charles Vaché in the Diocese of Southern Virginia. He is every bit a regal bishop and a Southern gentleman – tall, thin, with a full head of white hair and a twinkle in his eye. He told me a story of his college days, when he had a group of friends who were constantly together. One young woman had prescription glasses, but never wore them out of vanity. She was always asking her companions, “Who is that?”, and “What’s happening?” “Put on your glasses!”, they were urge her. But she never would. One night the gang went to a movie, and her whispered questions about the action on the screen was driving the others to distraction. “Put on your glasses!”, they whispered in unison. Perhaps she figured no one would see her in the dark, so she finally donned the spectacles. And she was amazed at the sharpness and clarity of her vision. She was enraptured by the show (much to the relief of those around her, I imagine!). And she talked excitedly with her friends as they left the theatre, she forgetting that she was still wearing her glasses. She had seen things she’d never seen before, she told them. And when they reached the clear cool night air, she looked up and gasped. “The stars!”, she said. “They’re so beautiful!” And she stared hungrily into the sky, tears streaming down her cheeks. So too her friends wept with joy for their friend whose eyes had been opened to new beauty and wholeness.

You are beautiful, children of Light. As I stand before you and gaze into your faces, I See You. Sawu Bona! We are people because of each other. We are the Body of Christ, and I pray our eyes are opened again and again by Christ our healer. Sawu Bona! Thanks be to God! Amen.

A Parish For All People!