Eyes Wide Open

So much of our lives are about getting through the day smoothly and safely, even though we know there is much more. I understand the conservative stance of going along to get along. I know too that is not everybody’s mode; are all kinds of people. There are “don’t step on a crack” people, and there are daredevils. Remember Evil Knievel at Caesar’s Palace in Las Vegas making a 140-foot ramp to ramp jump on his Triumph motorcycle. Mr. Knievel did not worry about stepping on cracks in the sidewalk, nor even about cracked bones. I am guessing that you are neither obsessed with safety nor addicted to adrenaline.

We are somewhere between these extremes: willing to risk here and there to assure ourselves that there is a vibrancy to life that just should not be missed. Our life in faith has this balance too. We don’t want to ignore matters of faith and miss a connection with God, but neither do we want to dive headfirst into irrational fanaticism. There are two fascinating figures of the Bible that we connect with this Sunday in the scripture lessons. They are St. John, who wrote Revelation, and St. Paul who wrote more than a third of the documents of the New Testament. Both are given divine visions to which they open their eyes of faith, and encounter God in ways that have brought inspiration to people in every generation that followed.

These two, as their lives unfolded, could not rock along with tame and safe religious platitudes. They were put into the hands of the living God: not at all a safe place but a very beautiful place. John was banished with some number of Christians to the Isle of Patmos. It must have been some form of internment to isolate this community that was seen to be subversive to the Roman system. They could not leave. They probably experienced crushing despair, not knowing what terror might be next. John was given a strange apocalyptic vision of God’s righting the injustice within the victory of Christ the Lamb, which sparked hope from the center of their despair:

I looked, and I heard the voice of many angels surrounding the throne and the living creatures and the elders; they numbered myriads of myriads and thousands of thousands, singing with full voice, "Worthy is the Lamb that was slaughtered to receive power and wealth and wisdom and might and honor and glory and blessing!"   (Revelation 5:11-12)  

Both here, with John, but also with Paul, we find an odd experiential paradox. Each was brought to humility through experiences of helplessness when the glories of God in power and might were opened before their eyes. Paul, while he still went by the Hebrew form of his name, Saul, was exercising what power he had to thwart the movement of Christ’s followers. At the peak of his power, he was suddenly rendered powerless when Jesus appeared to him in a vision, redirecting him to stop this persecution, and begin promoting a saving belief in the crucified and risen Christ. He rose from the vision but lost his physical sight. He was helpless in his blind state. Only when he spiritually beheld the need to turn to this new mission, was his sight restored:

So Ananias went and entered the house. He laid his hands on Saul and said, “Brother Saul, the Lord Jesus, who appeared to you on your way here, has sent me so that you may regain your sight and be filled with the Holy Spirit.” And immediately something like scales fell from his eyes, and his sight was restored. Then he got up and was baptized, and after taking some food, he regained his strength. (Acts 9:17-19)

Neither of these two saints ever again had smooth or safe lives, but they rejoiced in a life of fulfillment, knowing Christ and making Christ known to others. They were not daredevils or stunt performers, and they were not wallflowers with the drapes drawn. They were partners with the living God. Their eyes were wide open to the power and mystery that lies beneath all that we see and know naturally. I am certain it is time now for us to ask that the eyes of our faith be opened, that we may behold divine wonders in all God’s redeeming work. Christ has thrilling, living adventures designed for us all.