I must admit I rather enjoy Ash Wednesday. Probably more than I should.
You see, Ash Wednesday is macabre. It names the reality of death in our midst. A reality we spend a great deal of time trying to ignore and erase.
We live in a world full of distractions and solutions and temporary fixes for the reality of death.
We spend a great deal of time and energy trying to ignore the presence of death in our lives. We sell ourselves out to the idols made of cloths and cosmetics and diets and surgeries and material possessions and visible symbols of vibrant life too many to name. Some of these are important to life, but they can be used as a method of escape. All in an effort to put a mask on the specter of death in our world. We literally become slaves to the power of death because we spend so much time trying to undo its very common and unstoppable effects. At least in the american context.
And this is why I love Ash Wednesday.
Ash Wednesday names and unmasks our tireless efforts to hide from death.
Ash Wednesday is the day when we who are God’s children are truly honest about who we are. We are dust. And to dust we shall return.
The ashen mark of the cross on our foreheads stands as a stark reminder of where we are going. Dust.
The ashen mark of a cross on our foreheads stands as contrast to all we do to try and avoid death - the cloths and the make-up and the cosmetic surgeries and the promises of eternal youth present in magazines and on TV and the material symbols of a vibrant life. Ash Wednesday is a reminder of the fact that we cannot outlast the marks of time and we can take nothing with us.
We are dust. And to dust we shall return.
Ash Wednesday is the day where we are honest about death. And it is good for us.
The above mentioned litanies are all ways that we try to avoid death. And they hold a great deal of sway over our lives. They distract us from God and our call to follow Jesus. They can be described as the “principalities and powers” - the New Testament phrase that describes those things that attempt to take our attention and lives away from God. In essence they are idols or institutions or ideologies that promise life, but in reality can only give death.
William Stringfellow writes;
“Death is the only moral significance which a principality proffers human being beings. That is to say, whatever intrinsic moral power is embodied in a principality - for a great corporation, profit, for example; or, for a nation, hegemony; or for an ideology, conformity - that is sooner or later superseded by the great moral power of death. Corporations die. Nations die. Ideologies die. Death survives them all. Death is - apart from God himself - the greatest moral power in this world, outlasting and subduing all other powers no matter how marvelous they may seem to be for a time being. This means, theologically speaking, that the object of allegiance and servitude, the real idol secreted within all idolatries, the power above all principalities and powers - the idol of the idols - is death (An Ethic for Christians and Other Aliens in A Strange Land, pg. 81).”
To lives held captive to the idol of death, Ash Wednesday is a reminder that we are God’s created ones. To God we belong. And to God we will return.
Ash Wednesday is a counter-cultural message to the world. We do not belong to that with which we fill our lives - our jobs, our possessions, our consumptive natures. We belong to something greater.
Ash Wednesday reminds us who we are. And whose we are.
We are dust. And to dust we shall return.
We are dust, but not waste. We are created out of the dust of creation, the nourishing dirt used by God to form us and shape us. The dust/dirt that received the breath of life. The dust/dirt creatures that were called “good” by God. Remember - we are dust!
And to dust we shall return. We are not long for this world. Numbered days. Numbered heart beats.
But all time given to us as gift. To grow. To share. To live. To love.
To dust we shall return. But not yet.
Ash Wednesday reminds us of who is ultimately involved in our life. The one who has set us free through Jesus Christ from our struggle with death. Set us free so that we can join in the struggle of God for abundant life for the world.
Ash Wednesday names death as part of our life.
Ash Wednesday affirms life as our gift from God. A gift given to us now. And into our future with God.
Remember. We are dust. And to dust we shall return.
Showing posts with label Engaging the Powers. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Engaging the Powers. Show all posts
Tuesday, March 4, 2014
Monday, February 17, 2014
Power and Privilege: Turning the other Cheek
The Gospel reading for this coming Sunday (for those of you who follow the Revised Common Lectionary) contains the movement of the “Sermon on the Mount” where Jesus confronts some of the violent structures or power and privilege in his day.
We pick up with Matthew 5:38-4.
“You have heard that it was said, ‘An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth.’ But I say to you, Do not resist the one who is evil. But if anyone slaps you on the right cheek, turn to him the other also. And if anyone would sue you and take your tunic, let him have your cloak as well. And if anyone forces you to go one mile, go with him two miles.”
Jesus engages the old “eye for an eye, tooth for a tooth” practice with a call to “not resist an evil doer.” It has been pointed out by Walter Wink (Engaging the Powers; Fortress Press, 1992) that this phrase is not as radical in the English translation as it is in the Greek text. The spirit of the statement recorded in Matthew’s Gospel is more radical. The call from Jesus is to not act violently to the evildoer, but not to be a doormat either. Jesus is not calling us to be cowards. He is calling us to actively, and nonviolently engage the oppressor/wrong-doer.
With this phrase guiding the conversation, Jesus moves into the triad of turn the other cheek, give the undergarment, and go the extra mile. It is the first of these that I want to engage.
“But if anyone strikes you on the right check, turn the other also…”
For a long time this verse has been interpreted rather weakly. It has been used to tell children to turn the other cheek to the bully, women to turn the other cheek to spousal abuse, and Christians to be passive (non-active) against violence of any kind. This could not be more wrong.
The power of Jesus’ statement is that it calls people to claim their dignity in the face of oppression. To be struck on the right cheek, with the left hand (a backhanded slap), was a statement of insult by the one in power. By offering their left cheek, the one struck in an attempt at humiliation would challenge the oppressor to strike them again with a right hand (literally a punch one would only use with peers), claiming their dignity. The call to turn the other cheek is about claiming dignity and power in the face of oppression.
Privileged folk (like me - white, straight, educated, etc….) are the ones who initiate the scenario that attempts to humiliate. While it may not be a backhanded slap, the metaphorical action can be seen throughout our society.
Take our justice system for example.
On Saturday night, February 15, 2014, the justice system in Tallahassee, Florida delivered a backhanded slap to another African-American family. Jordan Davis, an African-America teenager, was murdered by Michael Dunn, a privileged man. The story in a nutshell - an African- American teen was killed and a family was brought to agony over music that was deemed "too loud" by a white, privileged man.
In the trial dubbed the “loud music trial,” the jury was overwhelming made up of people of privilege -four white men, four white women, two black women, one Hispanic man and one Asian-American woman. The defendant was a white male - a person of privilege. Yes one could argue for a “jury of his peers,” but when has that worked an the united states when a white man is on trial for killing an African-American?!
Yes Michael Dunn was found guilty on a charge of three counts of second-degree attempted murder and is facing a potential 60 year prison sentence, but let’s be blunt: he got away with murdering an African-American teenager over loud music. And the privileged folk turned a blind eye.
There was no justice for Jordan Davis. There was no closure for his family.
This event comes on the heels of the also controversial verdict of the George Zimmerman trial where another person of privilege got away with murdering an African-American teenager. Trayvon Martin's life and character were torn apart and Zimmermann was set free while privileged folk turned a blind eye to the reality of the situation.
There was no justice for Trayvon Martin. There was no closure for his family.
Both of these cases involved Florida’s controversial “stand your ground” law. A law that seems to be written by the privileged, for the privileged, in an attempt to protect only the privileged.
I could write for days in an attempt to record cases just like these. It’s disgusting and heartbreaking. The justice system in this country, a system of power driven by people of privilege, has continually humiliated people of color in the backhanded slap of a thwarting of justice.
Over and over again the privileged justice system has dealt left-handed blows to the right cheeks of people of color.
Over and over again people of color have turned the other cheek, displaying the broken system of justice, driven by power and privilege. They have peacefully protested - nonviolently resisting the system of oppression. They have called privileged folk to act to undo the broken system of justice. They have actively and nonviolently resisted, unmasking and engaging a broken system of privilege.
And still they wait. Offering the other cheek. Claiming their dignity and humanity. Exposing the fallen power system of privilege in this nation.
So when will we privileged people wake up? When will the church - the white, privileged church - wake up?
If we claim to follow Jesus - his commands, his call, his radical life of neighbor love and justice - when will we see that his statements do not enforce stable, peaceful life for privileged folk, but a radical reshaping of the community of the kingdom of God where “justice rolls down like waterfalls” and all people are given a place at the table.
Privileged people - our attempt at humiliation has been exposed for the fallen system of power that it is. It is time to realize what is happening. It is time to claim our responsibility for the damage done by a fallen system of power and privilege and to go to work for justice and reconciliation. It’s time to ask for forgiveness and move forward with dignity - all people together.
As I struggle with my own privilege, I can now understand the injustice done. I can now hear the empty echo of a silent white, privileged church when a community in our midst is suffering. I know there is work to be done.
I do not have all the answers, but I want to understand the issues and ask the hard questions. I want to use my power to bring justice and not division.
The journey can be a struggle - but Jesus calls us forward.
Peace,
Travis
We pick up with Matthew 5:38-4.
“You have heard that it was said, ‘An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth.’ But I say to you, Do not resist the one who is evil. But if anyone slaps you on the right cheek, turn to him the other also. And if anyone would sue you and take your tunic, let him have your cloak as well. And if anyone forces you to go one mile, go with him two miles.”
Jesus engages the old “eye for an eye, tooth for a tooth” practice with a call to “not resist an evil doer.” It has been pointed out by Walter Wink (Engaging the Powers; Fortress Press, 1992) that this phrase is not as radical in the English translation as it is in the Greek text. The spirit of the statement recorded in Matthew’s Gospel is more radical. The call from Jesus is to not act violently to the evildoer, but not to be a doormat either. Jesus is not calling us to be cowards. He is calling us to actively, and nonviolently engage the oppressor/wrong-doer.
With this phrase guiding the conversation, Jesus moves into the triad of turn the other cheek, give the undergarment, and go the extra mile. It is the first of these that I want to engage.
“But if anyone strikes you on the right check, turn the other also…”
For a long time this verse has been interpreted rather weakly. It has been used to tell children to turn the other cheek to the bully, women to turn the other cheek to spousal abuse, and Christians to be passive (non-active) against violence of any kind. This could not be more wrong.
The power of Jesus’ statement is that it calls people to claim their dignity in the face of oppression. To be struck on the right cheek, with the left hand (a backhanded slap), was a statement of insult by the one in power. By offering their left cheek, the one struck in an attempt at humiliation would challenge the oppressor to strike them again with a right hand (literally a punch one would only use with peers), claiming their dignity. The call to turn the other cheek is about claiming dignity and power in the face of oppression.
Privileged folk (like me - white, straight, educated, etc….) are the ones who initiate the scenario that attempts to humiliate. While it may not be a backhanded slap, the metaphorical action can be seen throughout our society.
Take our justice system for example.
On Saturday night, February 15, 2014, the justice system in Tallahassee, Florida delivered a backhanded slap to another African-American family. Jordan Davis, an African-America teenager, was murdered by Michael Dunn, a privileged man. The story in a nutshell - an African- American teen was killed and a family was brought to agony over music that was deemed "too loud" by a white, privileged man.
In the trial dubbed the “loud music trial,” the jury was overwhelming made up of people of privilege -four white men, four white women, two black women, one Hispanic man and one Asian-American woman. The defendant was a white male - a person of privilege. Yes one could argue for a “jury of his peers,” but when has that worked an the united states when a white man is on trial for killing an African-American?!
Yes Michael Dunn was found guilty on a charge of three counts of second-degree attempted murder and is facing a potential 60 year prison sentence, but let’s be blunt: he got away with murdering an African-American teenager over loud music. And the privileged folk turned a blind eye.
There was no justice for Jordan Davis. There was no closure for his family.
This event comes on the heels of the also controversial verdict of the George Zimmerman trial where another person of privilege got away with murdering an African-American teenager. Trayvon Martin's life and character were torn apart and Zimmermann was set free while privileged folk turned a blind eye to the reality of the situation.
There was no justice for Trayvon Martin. There was no closure for his family.
Both of these cases involved Florida’s controversial “stand your ground” law. A law that seems to be written by the privileged, for the privileged, in an attempt to protect only the privileged.
I could write for days in an attempt to record cases just like these. It’s disgusting and heartbreaking. The justice system in this country, a system of power driven by people of privilege, has continually humiliated people of color in the backhanded slap of a thwarting of justice.
Over and over again the privileged justice system has dealt left-handed blows to the right cheeks of people of color.
Over and over again people of color have turned the other cheek, displaying the broken system of justice, driven by power and privilege. They have peacefully protested - nonviolently resisting the system of oppression. They have called privileged folk to act to undo the broken system of justice. They have actively and nonviolently resisted, unmasking and engaging a broken system of privilege.
And still they wait. Offering the other cheek. Claiming their dignity and humanity. Exposing the fallen power system of privilege in this nation.
So when will we privileged people wake up? When will the church - the white, privileged church - wake up?
If we claim to follow Jesus - his commands, his call, his radical life of neighbor love and justice - when will we see that his statements do not enforce stable, peaceful life for privileged folk, but a radical reshaping of the community of the kingdom of God where “justice rolls down like waterfalls” and all people are given a place at the table.
Privileged people - our attempt at humiliation has been exposed for the fallen system of power that it is. It is time to realize what is happening. It is time to claim our responsibility for the damage done by a fallen system of power and privilege and to go to work for justice and reconciliation. It’s time to ask for forgiveness and move forward with dignity - all people together.
As I struggle with my own privilege, I can now understand the injustice done. I can now hear the empty echo of a silent white, privileged church when a community in our midst is suffering. I know there is work to be done.
I do not have all the answers, but I want to understand the issues and ask the hard questions. I want to use my power to bring justice and not division.
The journey can be a struggle - but Jesus calls us forward.
Peace,
Travis
Wednesday, February 5, 2014
5 Minute Post: The Death of Myth and Wonder
In case you missed it, there was a debate on Tuesday evening (Feb. 5) between Ken Ham - young-earth Creationist (earth created in 6 literal days, 6,000 years ago - and Bill Nye (the science guy!). The debate was over the origins of life - bible or evolution.
I have read numerous posts in the hours leading up to and in wake of the debate - most of them are a critique of Ham’s thoroughly unbiblical approach to the bible and his refusal to listen to reason or be moved on his absurd position. A great summary can be found here: Ken Ham’s Biblical Interpretation Is as Clumsy as his Science.
In the immediate aftermath of this debate I am struck by one thought - we have lost our sense of myth and wonder. Myth has been sacrificed on the alter of “fact” - if we can’t provide something empirically, it must not be true. We teach our kids how to learn facts and not how to dream or imagine. We create machines to enter the system.
Our ability to wonder seems to be on life-support, or already on its way out the back door in a pine box.
And this startles me to no end. In an age where everything has to been measured by fact - I only need point to our culture of standardized testing that is not truly education - we have lost something truly remarkable in our ability to engage myth and wonder.
In my systematic theology class in seminary, my professor Dr. Vitor Westhelle, began our discussion of theology with a exploration of myth. Dr. Westhelle taught us that “Myth is a story that never took place, but always happens.” I think there is great truth in this statement and it sheds light on how we understand where we come from and where we are going.
The creation stories (and there are multiple) in the bible contain a great deal of myth. They recount our attempt to understand where we have come from - in a sense they never took place because we can never know when they were first told. But they always happened because we have passed them down from generation to generation. They are myth and they help us to wonder.
Dr. Vesthelle described myth in this way:
Myth tries to address where we come from, how old are we, and when did fear arrive (a member of my congregation likened this one to “when did we screw up” - I think this also applies).
Wrapped up in the questions are a sense of wonder - not a search for facts. These questions lead us to tell a story - not search for empirical evidence. Our ancestors didn't know about carbon dating or the 24 hour day. Neither did they witness the spirit of God moving over the waters. But they did understand that they had come from somewhere - for Israel it was the divine, creating, sustaining, hands of God. We who follow Jesus are a part of this story.
In the creation stories in the bible we can witness the movement of these three questions: where we come from, how old are we, and when did fear arrive? And they move us to tell a story. A story grounded in wonder. A story grounded in God’s love for the world. A story that we still tell today. If the bible becomes about facts and trying to prove detractors wrong, then the story dies. And we all lose.
So let’s reclaim our sense of myth and wonder. The journey of discipleship, of following Jesus, would be nothing without these integral aspects of our faith.
Our sense of myth helps us to recall the great deeds God has done on behalf of the world in our past, so that we can imagine and hope and long for how God will act on the world’s behalf in the future.
Our sense of wonder helps us to discern how God imagines and encounters the world - and where we are being called to follow.
Blessings on the journey,
Travis
I have read numerous posts in the hours leading up to and in wake of the debate - most of them are a critique of Ham’s thoroughly unbiblical approach to the bible and his refusal to listen to reason or be moved on his absurd position. A great summary can be found here: Ken Ham’s Biblical Interpretation Is as Clumsy as his Science.
In the immediate aftermath of this debate I am struck by one thought - we have lost our sense of myth and wonder. Myth has been sacrificed on the alter of “fact” - if we can’t provide something empirically, it must not be true. We teach our kids how to learn facts and not how to dream or imagine. We create machines to enter the system.
Our ability to wonder seems to be on life-support, or already on its way out the back door in a pine box.
And this startles me to no end. In an age where everything has to been measured by fact - I only need point to our culture of standardized testing that is not truly education - we have lost something truly remarkable in our ability to engage myth and wonder.
In my systematic theology class in seminary, my professor Dr. Vitor Westhelle, began our discussion of theology with a exploration of myth. Dr. Westhelle taught us that “Myth is a story that never took place, but always happens.” I think there is great truth in this statement and it sheds light on how we understand where we come from and where we are going.
The creation stories (and there are multiple) in the bible contain a great deal of myth. They recount our attempt to understand where we have come from - in a sense they never took place because we can never know when they were first told. But they always happened because we have passed them down from generation to generation. They are myth and they help us to wonder.
Dr. Vesthelle described myth in this way:
Myth tries to address where we come from, how old are we, and when did fear arrive (a member of my congregation likened this one to “when did we screw up” - I think this also applies).
Wrapped up in the questions are a sense of wonder - not a search for facts. These questions lead us to tell a story - not search for empirical evidence. Our ancestors didn't know about carbon dating or the 24 hour day. Neither did they witness the spirit of God moving over the waters. But they did understand that they had come from somewhere - for Israel it was the divine, creating, sustaining, hands of God. We who follow Jesus are a part of this story.
In the creation stories in the bible we can witness the movement of these three questions: where we come from, how old are we, and when did fear arrive? And they move us to tell a story. A story grounded in wonder. A story grounded in God’s love for the world. A story that we still tell today. If the bible becomes about facts and trying to prove detractors wrong, then the story dies. And we all lose.
So let’s reclaim our sense of myth and wonder. The journey of discipleship, of following Jesus, would be nothing without these integral aspects of our faith.
Our sense of myth helps us to recall the great deeds God has done on behalf of the world in our past, so that we can imagine and hope and long for how God will act on the world’s behalf in the future.
Our sense of wonder helps us to discern how God imagines and encounters the world - and where we are being called to follow.
Blessings on the journey,
Travis
Thursday, January 30, 2014
The Beatitudes and Privilege - Confronting Powerlessness
I have been blessed to be part of a conversation that engages privilege. I am not sure that some would see this as a blessing. I struggle with engaging this topic because it is truly a hard look in the mirror for me - a person of privilege. But it is a blessing for me because it has caused me to engage the world in a different way - a way that I trust is in line with what Jesus has called us to do with his invitation, “Follow me.” A life that engages the world as God engages the world - through love and mercy. It's a journey to be sure.
This week Dr. David Creech continued this conversation by writing a response to his initial 5 minute blog post.
This most recent post can be found here - Privilege Revisited.
He responded in two ways; Using power and privilege in the small acts of life, and the sense of powerlessness that can overcome those confronted with their privilege, namely the act of giving up power.
I want to address the second.
I too struggle with a sense of powerlessness. When confronted by systems (racism, homophobia, sexism, immigration) that seem too big to name and engage, I tend to shrug my shoulders and give away my power as a privileged person to name the injustice that I see. But this does not match up with the call to be a disciple that I hear from Jesus in the Gospels.
Enter the Beatitudes, the first movement of Jesus’ famous “Sermon on the Mount.” We are beginning a sermon series on this teaching moment from the Gospel of Matthew at the church I serve. I am preaching this weekend on these famous statements from Jesus. With the conversation of privilege rattling around in my mind, two of them jumped off the page at me in a entirely new way.
Here is something foundational. I understand the Beatitudes as a vision of how God encounters the world, not as a list of moral maxims or a set of rules by which to live. The Beatitudes, this series of blessings, is a glimpse of how God encounters the world through the kingdom of heaven. Jesus shows us what God sees, who God blesses, how God engages the world. God has already blessed these people - how will the community respond? I am thankful for Hauerwas and Willimon and their book Resident Aliens; A provocative Christian assessment of culture and ministry for people who know something is wrong. This book brought this new understanding to light.
With this understanding in place, I saw two of these “blessings” anew.
Matthew 5:5 - “Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth.”
I have always had a misguided understanding of the work meek. It registered in my vocabulary with an overtone of cowardice and fear - a bad understanding of “turn the other cheek” (we’ll get to that in a few weeks).
In seminary I learned that this word had a different nuance, that it pointed to a state of being that was gentle and humble. This week I came across this definition from Matthew Skinner; “Meek: those who are gentle and unobtrusive, who refuse to use power over others as a tool to make things happen.” I was struck by this. With the concept of privilege in my mind I began to understand meekness with a great sense of power - but power un-abused. A meek person understands their power, but does not use it to further systems of injustice and oppression, but to work against them.
For a privileged person, I think we can push it a little further. It’s not that privileged people are to “refuse use their power as a tool to make things happen” - I think this may only further a sense of powerlessness. I think that meekness points to a way of life that uses power and privilege in a way that is a critique of the system of power and privilege. I, as a privileged person, can understand meekness to be a state of being that recognizes its privilege, learns the effects of that privilege, and becomes a critical voice of that privilege, on behalf of those who are oppressed. Meekness is direct action to undo privilege, by the privileged, on behalf of the oppressed. It’s a way of life that encounters and engages the world based on God’s kingdom of heaven.
Matthew 5:7 - “Blessed are the merciful, for they will receive mercy.”
Mercy has also been interpreted anew. Skinner writes; “The merciful: people who willingly surrender their privileges or otherwise go out of their way to improve others’ well-being.”
Mercy understands power and privilege. Mercy can seen the difference between the haves and the have-nots. Mercy knows of inequality. And mercy is a state of being that critiques and combats these systems of injustice.
I also want to push Mr. Skinner’s definition a little. I understand mercy as a willingness to use privilege to go out of one’s way to improve the well being of another. Again, this is to combat the sense of powerlessness. The state of being that is mercy is an active force. It understands privilege. Mercy is a way of life by which the one with privilege names and engages that privilege in a critical manner, in an effort to end injustice and oppression. Surrendering privilege does not help in this instance. The privilege needs to be named, critiqued, and used as an avenue of renewal - always on behalf of the other.
Perhaps there is a nuance of surrender here that I am missing. This is after all a work in progress. A journey. A way of life.
God has blessed both the meek and the merciful. They are not powerless. They are blessed, already and forever, to be workers in the kingdom of heaven. When the meek and merciful are confronted with their privilege and power they know they are called to action, to work against the injustice and oppression brought on by fallen systems of power and privilege. They are blessed to be a blessing. And to live out God's radical vision for community that is the kingdom of heaven.
I want to keep the conversation moving. How do these definitions help the conversation? What are your thoughts? Do you encounter the tension of privilege and powerlessness? What do you do when you see it?
Blessings on the journey. Now it’s back to sermon writing.
Peace,
Travis
This week Dr. David Creech continued this conversation by writing a response to his initial 5 minute blog post.
This most recent post can be found here - Privilege Revisited.
He responded in two ways; Using power and privilege in the small acts of life, and the sense of powerlessness that can overcome those confronted with their privilege, namely the act of giving up power.
I want to address the second.
I too struggle with a sense of powerlessness. When confronted by systems (racism, homophobia, sexism, immigration) that seem too big to name and engage, I tend to shrug my shoulders and give away my power as a privileged person to name the injustice that I see. But this does not match up with the call to be a disciple that I hear from Jesus in the Gospels.
Enter the Beatitudes, the first movement of Jesus’ famous “Sermon on the Mount.” We are beginning a sermon series on this teaching moment from the Gospel of Matthew at the church I serve. I am preaching this weekend on these famous statements from Jesus. With the conversation of privilege rattling around in my mind, two of them jumped off the page at me in a entirely new way.
Here is something foundational. I understand the Beatitudes as a vision of how God encounters the world, not as a list of moral maxims or a set of rules by which to live. The Beatitudes, this series of blessings, is a glimpse of how God encounters the world through the kingdom of heaven. Jesus shows us what God sees, who God blesses, how God engages the world. God has already blessed these people - how will the community respond? I am thankful for Hauerwas and Willimon and their book Resident Aliens; A provocative Christian assessment of culture and ministry for people who know something is wrong. This book brought this new understanding to light.
With this understanding in place, I saw two of these “blessings” anew.
Matthew 5:5 - “Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth.”
I have always had a misguided understanding of the work meek. It registered in my vocabulary with an overtone of cowardice and fear - a bad understanding of “turn the other cheek” (we’ll get to that in a few weeks).
In seminary I learned that this word had a different nuance, that it pointed to a state of being that was gentle and humble. This week I came across this definition from Matthew Skinner; “Meek: those who are gentle and unobtrusive, who refuse to use power over others as a tool to make things happen.” I was struck by this. With the concept of privilege in my mind I began to understand meekness with a great sense of power - but power un-abused. A meek person understands their power, but does not use it to further systems of injustice and oppression, but to work against them.
For a privileged person, I think we can push it a little further. It’s not that privileged people are to “refuse use their power as a tool to make things happen” - I think this may only further a sense of powerlessness. I think that meekness points to a way of life that uses power and privilege in a way that is a critique of the system of power and privilege. I, as a privileged person, can understand meekness to be a state of being that recognizes its privilege, learns the effects of that privilege, and becomes a critical voice of that privilege, on behalf of those who are oppressed. Meekness is direct action to undo privilege, by the privileged, on behalf of the oppressed. It’s a way of life that encounters and engages the world based on God’s kingdom of heaven.
Matthew 5:7 - “Blessed are the merciful, for they will receive mercy.”
Mercy has also been interpreted anew. Skinner writes; “The merciful: people who willingly surrender their privileges or otherwise go out of their way to improve others’ well-being.”
Mercy understands power and privilege. Mercy can seen the difference between the haves and the have-nots. Mercy knows of inequality. And mercy is a state of being that critiques and combats these systems of injustice.
I also want to push Mr. Skinner’s definition a little. I understand mercy as a willingness to use privilege to go out of one’s way to improve the well being of another. Again, this is to combat the sense of powerlessness. The state of being that is mercy is an active force. It understands privilege. Mercy is a way of life by which the one with privilege names and engages that privilege in a critical manner, in an effort to end injustice and oppression. Surrendering privilege does not help in this instance. The privilege needs to be named, critiqued, and used as an avenue of renewal - always on behalf of the other.
Perhaps there is a nuance of surrender here that I am missing. This is after all a work in progress. A journey. A way of life.
God has blessed both the meek and the merciful. They are not powerless. They are blessed, already and forever, to be workers in the kingdom of heaven. When the meek and merciful are confronted with their privilege and power they know they are called to action, to work against the injustice and oppression brought on by fallen systems of power and privilege. They are blessed to be a blessing. And to live out God's radical vision for community that is the kingdom of heaven.
I want to keep the conversation moving. How do these definitions help the conversation? What are your thoughts? Do you encounter the tension of privilege and powerlessness? What do you do when you see it?
Blessings on the journey. Now it’s back to sermon writing.
Peace,
Travis
Monday, January 6, 2014
5 Minute Post: Power and Privilege
The last two weeks I have reflected on the powers and principalities in the sermons I have preached. First it was in the shadow of Herod and the slaughter of innocents. This past week it was in the light of Epiphany. Power language can be found throughout the New Testament and is an integral topic for the life of the church and the followers of Jesus.
This post is in response of an earlier post of Dr. David Creech in which he reflected on privilege. The “5 Minute Post” - a title I borrow out of respect - can be read here:
Dr. David Creech - 5 Mintue Post: Wrestling with Privilege
I too struggle with privilege. I am a white, straight, educated (two degrees), Protestant (Lutheran, ELCA), male, pastor. I live in the most powerful nation in the world. I hold power, that I still do not fully understand, in my role as a pastor. I have a great advantage over others and I cannot say, without significant qualifications, that I can claim responsibility for any of them.
The last few years of my life and my time in seminary have greatly altered my world view. A few years ago I could not have articulated my privilege. I had no clue. I have no concept of my privilege or the power that I had in my context. The last two years of my education have contained a significant amount of time in the study of power language in the Bible. In my initial response to Dr. Creech I tried to equate power and privilege. I am not sure that they are exact equivalents, but there is some cross over.
For instance. To his question of how I respond to privilege I perceive a great deal of overlap.
Here is how I respond.
Privilege, just like power, has to be named, unmasked, and engaged. I take this triad from the late Walter Wink who wrote a brilliant trilogy on the powers and principalities that needs to be required reading in seminaries effective immediately. Here is the third book;
Wink: Engaging the Powers
The triad works like this:
1) Privilege, like power, needs to be named. This literally means calling a thing what it is. For example - racism, sexism, or any of the other -isms that get thrown around and dismissed.
Once it is named (acknowledged) it is no longer shrouded in mystery or hidden - both tend to leave things ignored.
2) Once named, privilege needs to be unmasked. What are the underlying factors? What creates the privilege? What are the moving pieces/contributing factors that build and maintain privilege. It’s a web and it’s complex.
3) Once unmasked, privilege needs to be engaged. This part of the process can be simple or complicated, and it requires action. Not earth moving action, but small steps. Simply calling out language (racist, sexist) in conversation (something I fail to do over and over again) is a way to engage privilege and power.
Regardless of the system of power or privilege, this is one means of taking that power or privilege on and working to change it.
What about you? Do you think this works?
This post is in response of an earlier post of Dr. David Creech in which he reflected on privilege. The “5 Minute Post” - a title I borrow out of respect - can be read here:
Dr. David Creech - 5 Mintue Post: Wrestling with Privilege
I too struggle with privilege. I am a white, straight, educated (two degrees), Protestant (Lutheran, ELCA), male, pastor. I live in the most powerful nation in the world. I hold power, that I still do not fully understand, in my role as a pastor. I have a great advantage over others and I cannot say, without significant qualifications, that I can claim responsibility for any of them.
The last few years of my life and my time in seminary have greatly altered my world view. A few years ago I could not have articulated my privilege. I had no clue. I have no concept of my privilege or the power that I had in my context. The last two years of my education have contained a significant amount of time in the study of power language in the Bible. In my initial response to Dr. Creech I tried to equate power and privilege. I am not sure that they are exact equivalents, but there is some cross over.
For instance. To his question of how I respond to privilege I perceive a great deal of overlap.
Here is how I respond.
Privilege, just like power, has to be named, unmasked, and engaged. I take this triad from the late Walter Wink who wrote a brilliant trilogy on the powers and principalities that needs to be required reading in seminaries effective immediately. Here is the third book;
Wink: Engaging the Powers
The triad works like this:
1) Privilege, like power, needs to be named. This literally means calling a thing what it is. For example - racism, sexism, or any of the other -isms that get thrown around and dismissed.
Once it is named (acknowledged) it is no longer shrouded in mystery or hidden - both tend to leave things ignored.
2) Once named, privilege needs to be unmasked. What are the underlying factors? What creates the privilege? What are the moving pieces/contributing factors that build and maintain privilege. It’s a web and it’s complex.
3) Once unmasked, privilege needs to be engaged. This part of the process can be simple or complicated, and it requires action. Not earth moving action, but small steps. Simply calling out language (racist, sexist) in conversation (something I fail to do over and over again) is a way to engage privilege and power.
Regardless of the system of power or privilege, this is one means of taking that power or privilege on and working to change it.
What about you? Do you think this works?
Thursday, December 19, 2013
An Army of Hope
Sometimes while writing a sermon I have to take a break and put words to paper (or mac screen) in order to get some ideas off the table. Too many ideas can clog the gears of thought, leaving too many options that try to force their way into my weak attempt to articulate God’s words for us. Rarely do this words ever see the light of day. But there’s a first time for everything.
These are some words that I need to get out of my mind.
There is a great deal of darkness and hate swirling around in the last week. Now perhaps is just me and the cold germs that I currently harbor in my body, but every time I turn on the TV, read the newspaper, or float around the internet and twitter, all I come across is negativity.
There is a war going on and its got many fronts.
There’s the war on Christmas….
…the war of words surrounding Phil Robertson and A&E…
… the war on Obamacare…
…the war of words over gun legislation - brought to fresh light by yet another school shooting…
…the actual wars raging in Syria, Irag, afghanistan…
…the actual wars raging in our city streets - I am reminded of the constant shadow of death on the south side of Chicago…
…the list goes on…
I do not record this list in an effort to bring more gloom to the table.
Actually my purpose is quite the opposite.
I want to talk about hope.
Specifically the hope we have in Christ.
As we draw closer to the nativity, moving through this fourth week in Advent, I want to add my voice to the conversation raging in the world around us. I want to talk about hope.
Hope comes in many forms in the Christmas narrative - too many to name - to many that still may find their way into my Christmas Eve sermon. The one I want to focus on can be found in Luke’s version, in the fields with the shepherds, as their lives were interrupted and their world turned upside down.
The shepherds could have probably come upon with a pretty gloomy list of events and issues that brought darkness to their lives - much like the list above. They were outcasts of society…oppressed by empire…poor economically…unclean religiously. They are the last folk on earth who would ever think about receiving good news - that night, or any night. And yet to them the angles appeared.
There is good news.
And here’s the cool part, at least for me. As we tell the story today, the shepherds are visited by a “host” of angels…a heavenly host. This is a very pastoral scene. Shepherds and sheep and a large group of singing angels. But I don't think this is what Luke had in mind. The word for “host” can also be translated as “army.” The shepherds are literally visited by an “army of angels.”
Now the shepherds knew about armies. So did Luke. They were familiar with Rome’s legions who spread the “pax romana” - the so called roman peace - with violence and brute force. They knew all to well the violence of an army - be it a physical force…an army of words that let them know just how outcast they were…an army of labels like unclean…an army of reminders that they did not belong.
But here Luke offers a different army - one that truly brings peace and good news for all the world and (no categories and labels here….no paperwork or hoops to jump through - All. The. World.) for all people. Here Luke presents an army of peace, sent by God to a world worn out by armies of hate - be they Roman or religious or otherwise.
The shepherds are greeted by an army of peace. This is good news. For them. And for us. But the story is not over.
The shepherds are then drafted into action. They are no longer bystanders of the story. They are drawn in by the word of peace and hope. They join the army. Excitement builds and they invade Bethlehem in peace and they get to look upon the prince of peace in wonder. And hope. And they go back out into the world to be voices of that hope. As they share the good news, the army of peace grows.
As the darkness of rhetoric, of hate, of hopelessness builds around us - as the nameless armies go through their maneuvers in our midst - I wonder if we can counter them with love. I wonder if we too can join the army of peace. The army of the angels and shepherds and the generations that have come before us who have boldly spoken words of peace and love - keeping the flame of hope alive in our world.
And it all starts with love.
Love…love…love…
I am reminded of one of my favorite Christmas songs. It’s not a traditional one by any means, but it is one that speaks of hope and love. It was penned by Dave Matthews and is simply titled “The Christmas Song.”
One of the chorus lines begs the question, “Why in all this hatred do you fill me what with love?”
It's a hard question. Why are we filled with love? And I am not here to answer it, but simply to remind. We are filled with love. This is what we need. To be reminded that we are filled with love, by God, through Jesus, to be an army of hope in this world.
My hope and prayer is that we can join the army of angels - and shepherds - in speaking words of peace, God’s peace, to our world that needs this good news so badly. That we can become an army of hope in our world.
These are some words that I need to get out of my mind.
There is a great deal of darkness and hate swirling around in the last week. Now perhaps is just me and the cold germs that I currently harbor in my body, but every time I turn on the TV, read the newspaper, or float around the internet and twitter, all I come across is negativity.
There is a war going on and its got many fronts.
There’s the war on Christmas….
…the war of words surrounding Phil Robertson and A&E…
… the war on Obamacare…
…the war of words over gun legislation - brought to fresh light by yet another school shooting…
…the actual wars raging in Syria, Irag, afghanistan…
…the actual wars raging in our city streets - I am reminded of the constant shadow of death on the south side of Chicago…
…the list goes on…
I do not record this list in an effort to bring more gloom to the table.
Actually my purpose is quite the opposite.
I want to talk about hope.
Specifically the hope we have in Christ.
As we draw closer to the nativity, moving through this fourth week in Advent, I want to add my voice to the conversation raging in the world around us. I want to talk about hope.
Hope comes in many forms in the Christmas narrative - too many to name - to many that still may find their way into my Christmas Eve sermon. The one I want to focus on can be found in Luke’s version, in the fields with the shepherds, as their lives were interrupted and their world turned upside down.
The shepherds could have probably come upon with a pretty gloomy list of events and issues that brought darkness to their lives - much like the list above. They were outcasts of society…oppressed by empire…poor economically…unclean religiously. They are the last folk on earth who would ever think about receiving good news - that night, or any night. And yet to them the angles appeared.
There is good news.
And here’s the cool part, at least for me. As we tell the story today, the shepherds are visited by a “host” of angels…a heavenly host. This is a very pastoral scene. Shepherds and sheep and a large group of singing angels. But I don't think this is what Luke had in mind. The word for “host” can also be translated as “army.” The shepherds are literally visited by an “army of angels.”
Now the shepherds knew about armies. So did Luke. They were familiar with Rome’s legions who spread the “pax romana” - the so called roman peace - with violence and brute force. They knew all to well the violence of an army - be it a physical force…an army of words that let them know just how outcast they were…an army of labels like unclean…an army of reminders that they did not belong.
But here Luke offers a different army - one that truly brings peace and good news for all the world and (no categories and labels here….no paperwork or hoops to jump through - All. The. World.) for all people. Here Luke presents an army of peace, sent by God to a world worn out by armies of hate - be they Roman or religious or otherwise.
The shepherds are greeted by an army of peace. This is good news. For them. And for us. But the story is not over.
The shepherds are then drafted into action. They are no longer bystanders of the story. They are drawn in by the word of peace and hope. They join the army. Excitement builds and they invade Bethlehem in peace and they get to look upon the prince of peace in wonder. And hope. And they go back out into the world to be voices of that hope. As they share the good news, the army of peace grows.
As the darkness of rhetoric, of hate, of hopelessness builds around us - as the nameless armies go through their maneuvers in our midst - I wonder if we can counter them with love. I wonder if we too can join the army of peace. The army of the angels and shepherds and the generations that have come before us who have boldly spoken words of peace and love - keeping the flame of hope alive in our world.
And it all starts with love.
Love…love…love…
I am reminded of one of my favorite Christmas songs. It’s not a traditional one by any means, but it is one that speaks of hope and love. It was penned by Dave Matthews and is simply titled “The Christmas Song.”
One of the chorus lines begs the question, “Why in all this hatred do you fill me what with love?”
It's a hard question. Why are we filled with love? And I am not here to answer it, but simply to remind. We are filled with love. This is what we need. To be reminded that we are filled with love, by God, through Jesus, to be an army of hope in this world.
My hope and prayer is that we can join the army of angels - and shepherds - in speaking words of peace, God’s peace, to our world that needs this good news so badly. That we can become an army of hope in our world.
Wednesday, October 9, 2013
The Parable of the Ten Lepers - Re-imagined
The idea at the heart of the Bartimaeus Effect is to gain a new perspective by following Jesus Christ. One aspect of gaining a new perspective is to engage scripture. And by engage, I want to focus on re-imagining the intersection of our world and scripture. Where do our lives, the current realities of our world (and particularly our culture), intersect the witness of Jesus Christ? Where do our lives cross paths with the life and ministry of Jesus Christ? Or perhaps more honestly; where does Jesus encounter us?
For example.
This week the revised common lectionary has Luke 17:11-19 as the Gospel text for the day. Luke 17 contains the story of ten lepers, who upon encountering Jesus, are made clean. One of lepers, who we learn is a Samaritan, returns rejoicing to Jesus and falls at his feet. Jesus tells him to rise and that his faith has made him well. That’s the story in a nut-shell. But where does it intersect us today?
Below is my rough translation of the story. I have tried to bring current images into the story and contextualize it to fit my understanding of what is going on in our midst.
So here it is...
The Parable of the Ten Without Access to Healthcare
And it happened, journeying to Austin, Jesus was going through the middle of Eagle Pass and San Antonio. As he entered a village, ten social outcasts without access to healthcare approached him. Keeping their distance, they raised a voice saying, “Jesus, one of authority, have mercy on us.” When he saw them, he said to them, “Go and show yourselves to the healthcare brokers (congress). And as they went, they were given access to healthcare (they had credible coverage). Then one of them, when he saw that he had health insurance, turned back, glorifying God with a loud voice. He fell on his face a Jesus’ feet and thanked him. And he was a Mexican. Then Jesus asked, “Were not ten made clean? But the other nine, where are they? Was none of them found to return and give praise to God except this immigrant (undocumented one)?” Then he said to him, “Having risen up (as from death), be going on your journey. Your trust has made you whole (you have a place in the community and the kingdom).”
In this short story, Luke uses three words to describe the healing;
14 & 17 - “cleansed” (καθαρίζω)
15 - “cured” (ἰάομαι)
19 - “made whole/saved (σῴζω)
Each word points to a different level of healing within the community. The first, καθαρίζω, to be cleansed, is a word that points to ritual, access, and identity in the community. To be clean was a position of status and privilege within the community. The second, ἰάομαι, points to a state of being. It acknowledges one’s current status. The third, σῴζω, signifies a new state of being. This word has theological depth and has often been translated as “saved,” pointing to some future status. But the nuances of this word point us to much more. This word σῴζω carries with it the overtones of being made whole to receive the gifts of God’s kingdom in the here and now. It points to a new future in the kingdom of God, a very present reality in our midst. The translation choices I have made wade into the murky waters of metaphor and try to capture the subtle nuances of these words and what they could point to in our context.
As for translating “lepers” as “social outcasts without access to healthcare,” I think that this captures the statement and description that Luke is attempting to capture in this story. The term leper in antiquity, for Luke and Jesus, did not point to a specific disease, but to any number of skin conditions. The ultimate reality is that being a leper made one unclean and thus outside of the community. A leper had no access to the privileges of society.
I took the image of priest and turned it into “healthcare broker” or potentially “congress,” because they are the current gatekeepers of privilege in our context. The priests were the gatekeepers of status in the story from Luke, they controlled who was in and who was out. Healthcare brokers, and yes congress, are a fitting metaphor for what is happening in our context. They have the power to decide who’s in and who’s out.
I struggled with translating the Samaritan in the story as “Mexican” in my rendition. This is not a social comment on our Mexican/Latino/Latina brothers and sisters, it’s more of a contextual understanding of the story based on the setting I chose.
Is this translation perfect?
NO!
But no translations can claim perfection. What we have from Luke is an opportunity to re-imagine the world through the eyes of God, through the life and ministry of Jesus, through the love that has raised us all new life.
Is Luke’s story political?
Absolutely!
To separate the religion and politics in this story would be to strip it of its power. Luke had no concept of the partisan politics of our day. Neither does God’s kingdom. This story is about following Jesus and it does not does not conform to the broken power structures and struggles of our world. Following Jesus means that we will be at odds with worldly power and we are called to be critical of that power, but not based on its rubrics. As members of the kingdom of God we are called to engage the world with political actions demonstrated by Jesus Christ, namely speaking truth to power and embodying God’s radical love for all people.
The bottom line is that this is a story of privilege and access; it’s about who has access to the resources that make one a member of the community. Jesus redraws the lines based on God’s love and mercy, and not on our fallen rubrics of power. All are welcome and loved in the kingdom of God. We don’t get to draw the lines. We are loved and invited to follow.
This story contains radical grace and a challenging call to follow Jesus. As we continue to learn how to follow Jesus, this is a bold reminder that we follow Jesus into the expansive kingdom of God where all people are included in the community. We have been empowered to live into this kingdom here and now. We do this through love. We does this through how we encounter others. We does this as we gain a new perspective in following Jesus.
May God continue to bless you on the journey!
Peace,
Travis
For example.
This week the revised common lectionary has Luke 17:11-19 as the Gospel text for the day. Luke 17 contains the story of ten lepers, who upon encountering Jesus, are made clean. One of lepers, who we learn is a Samaritan, returns rejoicing to Jesus and falls at his feet. Jesus tells him to rise and that his faith has made him well. That’s the story in a nut-shell. But where does it intersect us today?
Below is my rough translation of the story. I have tried to bring current images into the story and contextualize it to fit my understanding of what is going on in our midst.
So here it is...
The Parable of the Ten Without Access to Healthcare
And it happened, journeying to Austin, Jesus was going through the middle of Eagle Pass and San Antonio. As he entered a village, ten social outcasts without access to healthcare approached him. Keeping their distance, they raised a voice saying, “Jesus, one of authority, have mercy on us.” When he saw them, he said to them, “Go and show yourselves to the healthcare brokers (congress). And as they went, they were given access to healthcare (they had credible coverage). Then one of them, when he saw that he had health insurance, turned back, glorifying God with a loud voice. He fell on his face a Jesus’ feet and thanked him. And he was a Mexican. Then Jesus asked, “Were not ten made clean? But the other nine, where are they? Was none of them found to return and give praise to God except this immigrant (undocumented one)?” Then he said to him, “Having risen up (as from death), be going on your journey. Your trust has made you whole (you have a place in the community and the kingdom).”
In this short story, Luke uses three words to describe the healing;
14 & 17 - “cleansed” (καθαρίζω)
15 - “cured” (ἰάομαι)
19 - “made whole/saved (σῴζω)
Each word points to a different level of healing within the community. The first, καθαρίζω, to be cleansed, is a word that points to ritual, access, and identity in the community. To be clean was a position of status and privilege within the community. The second, ἰάομαι, points to a state of being. It acknowledges one’s current status. The third, σῴζω, signifies a new state of being. This word has theological depth and has often been translated as “saved,” pointing to some future status. But the nuances of this word point us to much more. This word σῴζω carries with it the overtones of being made whole to receive the gifts of God’s kingdom in the here and now. It points to a new future in the kingdom of God, a very present reality in our midst. The translation choices I have made wade into the murky waters of metaphor and try to capture the subtle nuances of these words and what they could point to in our context.
As for translating “lepers” as “social outcasts without access to healthcare,” I think that this captures the statement and description that Luke is attempting to capture in this story. The term leper in antiquity, for Luke and Jesus, did not point to a specific disease, but to any number of skin conditions. The ultimate reality is that being a leper made one unclean and thus outside of the community. A leper had no access to the privileges of society.
I took the image of priest and turned it into “healthcare broker” or potentially “congress,” because they are the current gatekeepers of privilege in our context. The priests were the gatekeepers of status in the story from Luke, they controlled who was in and who was out. Healthcare brokers, and yes congress, are a fitting metaphor for what is happening in our context. They have the power to decide who’s in and who’s out.
I struggled with translating the Samaritan in the story as “Mexican” in my rendition. This is not a social comment on our Mexican/Latino/Latina brothers and sisters, it’s more of a contextual understanding of the story based on the setting I chose.
Is this translation perfect?
NO!
But no translations can claim perfection. What we have from Luke is an opportunity to re-imagine the world through the eyes of God, through the life and ministry of Jesus, through the love that has raised us all new life.
Is Luke’s story political?
Absolutely!
To separate the religion and politics in this story would be to strip it of its power. Luke had no concept of the partisan politics of our day. Neither does God’s kingdom. This story is about following Jesus and it does not does not conform to the broken power structures and struggles of our world. Following Jesus means that we will be at odds with worldly power and we are called to be critical of that power, but not based on its rubrics. As members of the kingdom of God we are called to engage the world with political actions demonstrated by Jesus Christ, namely speaking truth to power and embodying God’s radical love for all people.
The bottom line is that this is a story of privilege and access; it’s about who has access to the resources that make one a member of the community. Jesus redraws the lines based on God’s love and mercy, and not on our fallen rubrics of power. All are welcome and loved in the kingdom of God. We don’t get to draw the lines. We are loved and invited to follow.
This story contains radical grace and a challenging call to follow Jesus. As we continue to learn how to follow Jesus, this is a bold reminder that we follow Jesus into the expansive kingdom of God where all people are included in the community. We have been empowered to live into this kingdom here and now. We do this through love. We does this through how we encounter others. We does this as we gain a new perspective in following Jesus.
May God continue to bless you on the journey!
Peace,
Travis
Monday, July 29, 2013
The Bartimaeus Effect
Mark 10:46-52 (NRSV)
“They came to Jericho. As Jesus and his disciples and a large crowd were leaving Jericho, Bartimaeus son of Timaeus, a blind beggar, was sitting by the roadside. When he heard that it was Jesus of Nazareth, he began to shout out and say, ‘Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!’ Many sternly ordered him to be quiet, but he cried out even more loudly, ‘Son of David, have mercy on me!’ Jesus stood still and said, ‘Call him here.’ And they called the blind man, saying to him, ‘Take heart; get up, he is calling you.’ So throwing off his cloak, he sprang up and came to Jesus. Then Jesus said to him, ‘What do you want me to do for you?’ The blind man said to him, ‘My teacher, let me see again.’ Jesus said to him, ‘Go; your faith has made you well.’ Immediately he regained his sight and followed him on the way.”
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