 |
 |
Devotions Archive
Archive:
1999
|
2000
|
2001
|
2002
|
2003
|
2004
|
2005
|
2006
|
2007
|
2008
|
2009
|
2010
|
2011
|
2012
|
2013
|
2014
|
2015
|
2016
|
2017
|
2018
|
2019
|
2020
|
2021
|
2022
|
2023
|
2024
Come together, right nowFriday, December 6, 2019
From Matthew 9 Now Jesus is coming. We have been waiting like everyone else and put our quarrels aside. We smell the dust cloud coming down the road. The clamor around us fills our ears. Someone shouts, "I can see him!" The rabbis chant in disputation, "There is no God, but God!" But the common people aren't interested. And we, blind from birth, are part of the common people. I have heard that Jesus does not take liberties. He does not assume our weakness or expect our disease. Nor does he inspect us for failure, except perhaps the awful failure of self-righteousness. He does ask a simple question: "Do you believe I can do this for you?" My heart is in my mouth. I look toward the strong sound of his voice and whisper, "Yes." Can you imagine, then, the stillness of the descending universe, all God's eyes fixed on me, and the touch of Jesus' fingers, first one eye, then the other. The cardboard, the dark closet, the cloud ... my muscle-bound eyelids flicker and there, by God, is Jesus standing straight, leaning back to check our Father's handiwork and smiling, Jesus, ready to hug us tight and let us rest our heads against his neck. We can see! We kiss our healer Jesus. I will sleep well tonight. My life is new. The roads stretch out until I can see no farther. What is there to do but follow Jesus? Will you go with me, my friend? We have quarreled much, but now, look! We have been healed. We can see! I love to tell the story. I cannot wait to wake tomorrow morning and know that this is not a dream. I will look into your eyes, and be glad. In our suffering, and in this touch of Jesus, we have been joined. But now, Lord, I've closed my eyes, nearly for sleep. You hand rubs my neck, and makes my head relax. On this day at last, there is nothing more to see but your glory, deep and wide inside my soul. |
I am blind, and you are blind, and we are blind together. But our blindness does not bind us together: we quarrel, we turn on each other, we are selfish and afraid. I want more than anything to put this behind us, but because I'm not sure you want the same, I have little hope and barely try. We are companions in suffering, but it is difficult to share my bread with you.