“And he was restored and saw everyone clearly.” (Mark 8:25 NKJV)
OK, let’s pick back up on my episode at the intersection with the biker, banker, and bum.
Sitting there in my car waiting for the light to change, having just tagged three complete strangers with labels derived from my own prejudice, the Holy Spirit brought to my remembrance the story I related to you yesterday from Mark’s gospel.
It was then I sensed the Lord speak to my heart something to this effect, “James, you have blurred vision; you need another touch from Me in order to see clearly, without any prejudice.” On that day at the intersection I learned a lesson I have never forgotten. I saw men as trees, walking.
I had been duly exposed to just enough Bible trivia to become a man with rapid-fire religious opinions; a Bible “answer man” with little regard to how my views or opinions demeaned, depreciated, or damaged others. I just knew my view of scripture was right, and anybody not seeing it my way had to be wrong.
You know….Biker. Banker. Bum.
I had become quite adept at affixing my labels upon the various people groups in my little world. I saw Baptists, Methodists, and Presbyterians; Lutherans, Pentecostals, and Fundamentalists. I saw Protestants and Catholics. And I saw heretics, pagans, perverts and queers. And if memory serves me here, cross-eyed mosquitoes and bow-legged ants were in there somewhere.
I saw the good, the bad, and the ugly. I saw bikers, bankers, and bums.
Indeed, I needed another touch from Jesus. I needed Him to stay with the healing process that His grace had already begun in my life, and bring me to a place where I could see things clearly; to see people through His eyes, and not my own.
The truth be known — that was not a Biker cranking his Harley to warp 3 alongside me at the light; no, he was a man whom God dearly loves — a man for whom Jesus died. And that was not a Banker triumphantly strolling out of First National to cruise off in his Caddy; no, he was a man whom God dearly loves — a man for whom Jesus died. And that was not a Bum stumbling into another day of hopeless begging; no, he was a man whom God dearly loves — a man for whom Jesus died.
And, thankfully, I was not a bigot; a self-righteous know-it-all preacher dispensing judgment near and far; No. I, too, was a man whom God dearly loves — a man for whom Jesus died.
That day I got some spit in my eye, you might say, and from that day forward began to see everyone clearly. And that has made all the difference.
Are you getting the point?
Has the light changed yet?