It’s amazing what we humans are able to get used to. We develop a great tolerance for what we’ve experienced over  time. We form habits, and the longer we live with them, the harder it is to grow beyond them. We can even begin to believe that these habits are part of who we are, and how we are meant to act. They’re not. They’re just habits we picked up along the way and have become comfortable with. But what if something happens to us and we suddenly realize that there’s more to life than our habitual modes?

The town of Bethsaida (literally, the house of fishing) is about two miles north of the Sea of Galilee, and east of the Jordan River. It’s known as the home of the apostles, Peter, Andrew and Philip. In the Eighth Chapter of the Gospel of Mark (Mark 8:23-26), Jesus has just crossed the sea, as he often did getting around Galilee. In the boat, he has just had another frustrating exchange with his closest disciples. Jesus tried to warn them against the way of influence of the Pharisees (using the Law to lord it over people) and of Herod (using power to keep control and maintain his privileged status).The disciples didn’t get it. For them, power, privilege, and religion were all good means for achieving a “righteous” end. Wasn’t that what the Messiah was supposed to do?

Jesus disembarks and heads with his little band into Bethsaida. Right away, some of the townspeople bring a blind man to Jesus to apply his wonderful touch and cure him. Jesus gently leads the man by the hand outside of town. He walks slowly, making sure the man doesn’t stumble over the rough ground, perhaps conversing with the man: What’s your name? Where’s your home? Tell me about your family. What work do you do? When and how did you become blind? What do most miss seeing? What are you doing in Bethsaida?

Then Jesus describes what he is about to do, and asks the man if this would be okay with him. The man, who had been a bit apprehensive at first, is now at ease with Jesus and allows him to proceed. Jesus, using a very basic healing substance, applies spittle to the man’s unseeing eyes and gently places his hands on them. Jesus asks, “What do you see?” The man replies, “I see people, but they look a bit strange, like trees walking around.” Jesus places his hands on the man’s eyes a second time, and the man can see clearly. He is healed and can now see everything plainly with no distortions. Jesus invites him to return to his home and family – those who know and love him, and says, “Don’t go back into the town.

Wow! There’s so much in these few verses. Why did the people in the town ask Jesus to deal with the blind man?  Remember, it wasn’t the blind man who sought out Jesus. Was it concern that moved them to bring him to Jesus, or just an attempt to remove an uncomfortable civic annoyance? Was he bothersome, sitting in the marketplace day after day, begging for his living? Yes, it is one of the “good works” to give him some little alms, but… He had lost the ability to do his life work (fishing?). He had become a label – that blind man, the beggar – with no dreams, desires, family, home… Did he become the town’s burden?  Of course we who are enlightened wouldn’t treat a beggar like that, would we?

Jesus treated him as a someone, human, not a problem, beloved of God, not accursed, as some thought and taught. And his healing? Sometimes we don’t see reality clearly right away. It can take a second correction and a second look. The healing of our blindnesses takes time. First we need to realize how much we cannot see. (Awareness precedes change.) Jesus stays with us until we can see fully and well. Then he advises us, don’t go back to your old ways, go to those who love you, who desire that you be completely whole, your best self.

One would think that anyone who has lived fifty years or more on this earth would have figured out some basic truths. The hard places, struggles and challenges just to get by, much less live well, are like water rushing down a mountain stream during the spring melt-off. Anything standing in the way surely gets worn and shaped, or washed away. Even the huge granite boulders can’t resist the impact. For humans, quite often, the wear and tear of the years softens some of our rough spots and carves away some of our arrogance. We go with the flow, or we are broken.

In the past few years I’ve become aware of some people who refuse to accept this reality. They live as if they can control the force of the rushing torrent. They might give lip-service to the fact that there is a God who is sovereign, but their behavior loudly proclaims another allegiance. They live under the seductive illusion that they can manage their lives on their own terms. It’s almost as if they are claiming (with Frank Sinatra) I do it my way. Isn’t this a bit like the terrible twos? We are NOT in charge!

Jesus, in the section of Matthew’s Gospel known as the Sermon on the Mount, begins his teaching with this fundamental statement, Blessed are the poor in spirit (Matthew 5:3). Everything flows from this. Those will have a chance to be peaceful, content, grounded, well, who know that they cannot do it alone. They know their place in the grand scheme of things. They need God. They need others. 

We, especially in the United States, hate the thought of being dependent on anyone or anything. We consider dependence of any kind as a weakness. Yet a majority of us profess to be a people who believe in God – maybe as long as God doesn’t interfere with our plans or our lifestyle. For some of us bull-headed types, accepting the obvious truth of our poverty, our neediness, may take awhile. But life goes so much better when we do.