Page last updated

 

 

 

Seeing with New Eyes

a sermon based on Acts 9:1-20
by Rev. Randy Quinn
 

Before I read the text for today, I want to give you a little background on the two characters in the text.

The first has been groomed by the politicians of his day to become a key leader in the upcoming generation.  He had been a good student -- a brilliant student who was taught by some of the most well known scholars of his day.  He had been trained in Greek as well as in Hebrew (Acts 22:3).  He knew his culture, his background, his history, and his society.  He could look at a person and see things others would overlook.

He had been born in what is now Turkey, but educated in Jerusalem.  He was a recognized 'rising star' in the religious community.

The second character is much more obscure.  In fact, we only know of him from the story in this text.  He was apparently a regular member of the local synagogue.  He apparently did his best to comply with the Jewish law.  And he apparently had become a believer in Jesus.  He was a devout person who was well respected in his community (Acts 22:12) -- something that could be said for most of us here today.

Both of these men had something in common, though.  And what they had in common, I think is common among many of us, too.  Both of the men in our text today had a limited idea about the ways God can work.

                                                                Read Text

I'd like to suggest that both Saul and Ananias had each developed a sense of blindness that could only be healed by the voice of God.

¤ Over the years, what they had been taught to see affected their vision.

¤ Over the years, what they had been taught to see clouded their eyes to the truth around them.

¤ Over the years, what they had been taught to see became like cataracts that needed to be removed before the truth could be understood and proclaimed.

Native Americans tell the story about an eagle's egg which fell from its nest.  A young brave happened upon the egg that had somehow fallen without breaking.  Unable to find the nest, the brave put the egg in the nest of a prairie chicken, where it was hatched by the brooding mother hen.  The fledgling eagle, with its proverbial strong eyes, saw the world for the first time.  Looking at the other prairie chickens, he did what they did.  He crawled and scratched at the earth, pecked here and there for stray grains and husks, now and then rising in a flutter a few feet above the earth and then descending again.  He accepted and imitated the daily routine of the earthbound prairie chickens.  And he spent most of his life this way.

Then, as the story goes, one day an eagle flew over the brood of prairie chickens.  The now aging eagle, who still thought he was a prairie chicken, looked up in awed admiration as the great bird soared through the skies.  "What is that?" he gasped in astonishment.  One of the old prairie chickens replied, "I have seen one before.  That is the eagle, the proudest, strongest, and most magnificent of all birds.  But don't you ever dream that you could be like that.  You're like the rest of us and we are prairie chickens."

And so shackled by this belief, the eagle lived and died thinking he was a prairie chicken.

Both Saul and Ananias had been shackled by the beliefs of those around them.  Saul saw all Christians as enemies of God and zealously persecuted them -- even into Damascus.  Ananias responded to Saul's violent hatred by treating him as an enemy to be feared.

But that was before Ananias was given new sight.  He was being reminded of what it means to "love your enemies" (Lk 6:27).

Of course, receiving new sight isn't necessarily an easy thing.  In fact, receiving new sight can be quite frightening.

In her book Pilgrim at Tinker Creek, Annie Dillard writes of when surgeons first discovered how to perform cataract operations and began to operate on people who had been blind since birth.  The surgeons were able to give them the gift of sight but not the gift of understanding what they saw.  Because they hadn't learned to see as children, the colors and shapes they now saw held little meaning.

            Some found it an overwhelming experience.  One teenage boy threatened to tear his eyes out.  Another young woman kept her eyes closed for two weeks after her operation to shut out the brightness.  When she finally opened her eyes again, she still didn't understand what she saw; but as she looked around, the girl cried out again and again, "Oh God!  How beautiful!"[1]

With his newfound sight, Ananias approaches Saul, his former enemy, and sees a beautiful child of God.  Incredibly, he calls Saul "Brother" (v 17).

Before we look at how that affected Saul, I want to ask about the possibilities of our own blindness.  Are we blinded to the hurts of our brothers and sisters that are homeless, abandoned, lonely, broken?  Are we blinded to the outcasts of society, because we don't want to get our "hands dirty"?  Are we blinded to those dying with incurable diseases, so we stay away from them?

Maybe we are blind to the needs of those nearest to us because of our busyness.  We allow other activities to become more important than listening to them, caring about them, taking time to show our love.

Or maybe, like so many others, we've been blinded by our upbringing.

• Susan had grown up in the church.  She knew the stories of Jesus.  Her values had been shaped by her upbringing.  But she had never really developed a personal relationship with Jesus in a way that directed her life.  She knew "about" Jesus.  He was a good teacher.  She thought that was good enough.  So when Jesus worked in her life to guide and shape it, she couldn't see it.

• Kevin had a negative experience of church growing up.  It was not a grace-filled, forgiving, loving experience.  Instead it was an experience of rigidness, threat and fear.  Jesus was always like God's policeman, trying to catch you in sin and pass out punishment.  So when Jesus began working in his life through a Christian wife and boss, he couldn't see it.

• Jeremy had lived a rough life with lots of low spots.  He had first started coming to church with a friend in his mid-30s.  Things started to go better.  Jesus became a good luck charm that warded off bad experiences.  And he never saw what Jesus was really about.

• John, who lived in a different era than our own, ran away from home when he was eleven years old and began working as a seaman.  He was a good mariner who didn't think about the morality of the slave trade he profited from.  When a storm nearly sank his ship, John began to think again about his life and the purpose in life.  From that event, John began to respond to the call of God in his life.  He eventually became an ordained pastor.  But he is most remembered for his autobiographical hymn in which he claims, "I once was blind but now I see."

We, like Ananias, like Susan and Kevin and Jeremy and John, have been blind at times.  We, too, need to receive new eyes to see.

When we can see like Ananias could see, people like Saul are given new sight.  When Ananias touched him, it was as though scales came off his eyes and Saul could see again.

In a surprising miracle, both men received new sight that day.  Both were healed by the grace of God.

Who knows who might benefit from our newfound eyesight.  We may greet someone as brother or sister and change their hardened heart.  We may share a simple smile and allow the light of day to shine into the dreariness of another person's life.

When we see others as God's children, God is able to work through us to allow them to see that they are indeed God's children.  That may be what Ray Strawser was thinking when he wrote the poem "The Image On Your Face"

There's an image on your face

Did you know that it was there

When first you showed up on the earth

And took a breath of air?

That image is of God, of course.

And it is very clear

To all who'll pause to notice it

Protruding the veneer.

That image is in others, too,

It's always looking out,

Waiting to be recognized

With respect and not with doubt.

If only we could take the time

When first we others meet,

To cherish God's bold image

That is in them and complete.

How different would our living be

How much improved our world:

There'd be no time for disrespect,

For fighting, war or greed;

Responding to God's image

We'd meet each other's need,

We'd not accuse, suspect or fear

Or do another in.

Because disappointments, faults or

even sin,

We'd live next door --

Or far away --

Without the slightest doubt

That honoring God's image

In each of us

Is what life's all about.[2]

That's what life is all about.  Seeing -- not with new eyes necessarily, but seeing with God's eyes.  That's what happened to Ananias.  That's what happened to Saul.  And that's what can happen to you and me if we will let the grace of God touch us.

As frightening as it may be to see clearly, I pray we will all receive new eyes to see.

Amen.


[1] As quoted by Jan L Richardson, "Easter Sunday," The Upper Room Disciplines 1998, p 114.

[2] Ray A Strawser, October 20, 1996; Boulder, Colorado.  As retold in Lectionary Homiletics (March-April 1998), p 74.