The Ven. Richard I. Cluett
John 9:1-41
The man Jesus
healed said “One thing I do know, that
though I was blind, now I see.”
Three centuries
ago in the village of Olney, England, a new parish priest came to town. The
townsfolk flocked to hear him, fascinated with his vibrant, personal style of
preaching and his checkered past as a slave trader.
In those days
learned clergy frequently wrote original verses for congregational singing, and
the priest at Olney wrote in a personal, plainspoken style, often referring to
his own sordid story and remarkable conversion. Each week, he would present
some new verses.
One of his was a
plain and plaintive little poem, humble and heartfelt, and for its earliest
audiences, it didn't stand out and was soon forgotten. But the verses survived
the priest, whose name was John Henry Newton. "Amazing Grace" crossed
the Atlantic and became perhaps the most beloved hymn in the English-speaking
world. Hymn 671 in our hymnal.
“I once was lost but now am found, was blind but now I see.”
My wife says
that I am blind. I go through life not seeing what is around me, much less what
is right in front of me. I spend so much time in my head that my head does not acknowledge
what my eyes have to show me. Examples range from not noticing a new hairdo, or
a room having been painted or the photograph on the hall wall of an ancient
yellow Tuscan country house that she had bought and hung there.
To prove her
point she cut out a small photo of my head and taped it in an upper window on
that photo of a yellow Tuscan country house. And she said nothing. After
several weeks I mentioned to her that I liked the brand new photo of the yellow
Tuscan house. She smiled and said that she was glad. Several weeks after that I was walking
down the hall and stopped to look at the photo and there I saw my face in an
upper window peeking out. (She told me yesterday that it took 2 years for me to see it!)
How often, O
God, have I gone through this life and missed what you have put in front of me
for me to see and I have walked on by?
Is that a
problem of the human condition, that we are born blind, we don’t see, we don’t
notice, we don’t look? Is it that we don’t expect, don’t expect that there is
anything or anyone God has put before us for us to see?
“As Jesus walked along, he saw a man blind from birth.”
When all the
others in the story had seen just another blind beggar by the side of the road,
as they crossed to walk on the other side of the road, Jesus saw a man, just a man. He saw a man born
blind who had been forced to beg by the side of the road in order to live. A person in desperate straits. A human being in need. A man. And Jesus saw him and he was moved to act and he healed him.
I want to tell
you about my good friend, Bud Holland who worked for many years at the
Episcopal Church Center in New York City. Every day he passed this man sitting
on the street, propped up against a building. He told me this…
“I met Richard
on my way to the Church Center. Over the years we became good friends and
prayer partners. When I met him he said that he was "special". He had
two first names: Richard Jeffrey. He and I laughed. Initially I said my name
was Bud; Bud as in Budweiser. He laughed
“I often
wondered what he was about on that corner of 38th and 3rd Avenue. He did have a
cup to receive money but it was such a passive way of asking for money. He
never verbally asked for money. Then over time I realized that he was bartering
love and he became for me a prayer partner. He always remembered the people I
asked him to pray for. When people passed him on the street they would greet
him by saying "hello, Richard". So many others knew him. Knowing
folks who work on the street by name is unusual to say the least. It bears
witness to his witness and friendship over the years.
“When I told
him that I was not going to be working in the city and would not be seeing him
very often, he rose from where he was sitting, tears filled his eyes, and he
uttered these words: ‘It will be all right. God closes the distance between
us.’”
Many of us who
have routinely passed by homeless and hungry folks on our own city block have, often
with some anxiety, offered to help feed and shelter some of these folks on Thursday nights these last cold months.
At first they may have seemed like just a group of unfortunate people, but
after a while we came to recognize Ernest and Jack, and Bill, and Walter and so
on, finally seeing each one as a unique child of God. Our blindness to their
humanity healed.
Last Thursday
the clergy of the diocese met with our new bishop, Sean Rowe. We were at St.
Stephen’s in Wilkes-Barre, which has a courtyard where one enters the parish.
As we went in I noted that there were some homeless men there. I did not really
“see” them, I just hurried on in. After lunch we celebrated the Eucharist together.
The last person in line to come forward to the bishop for the bread and wine of
Holy Communion was one of the men from the courtyard. He had “seen” us, and he
knew what we would be doing in there, so he came and sat with us and then came
forward with us to receive the bread and wine of Holy Communion, too. I saw him
clearly as he walked back outside, saying, “Thank you, Jesus. Thank you,
Jesus.” I made my prayer, too, Thank you, Jesus.
“One thing I do know, that though I was blind, now I see.”
When we truly
see a person we could easily pass by, when we see them as a neighbor, as a man,
as a woman, as a brother or sister in Christ, as a person, with a name and a
face which bears the light of Christ’s presence in our meeting, we will truly see
with the eyes of Jesus. And then perhaps we will be moved to act. Today, Jesus
shows us the way.