Try Opening Your Eyes

Is it already morning? Goodness, that came quickly. Did not intend to fall off the internet for the whole weekend. Happily for me, I don’t have too many regrets on account of getting to spend the loveliest weekend in South Carolina with the spouses of the clergy down there. They were having their annual retreat, and they invited me to come and chatter at them, which I did. They all said they had a good time, but I am pretty sure it was me they were talking about. The scenery was charming and the people even more so. Also, I got to a eat a perfect bowl of grits and shellfish, of which, if you don’t stop me, I will begin to weep over the memory—in a good way.

When I got home Matt and I tried to tape a podcast but we forgot to push the record button, which must mean we were more offensive than usual and God knew better. Sorry about that! Instead, how ‘bout an interview Karen Swallow Prior and I did about the Pelican Project, and also a new podcast I found that is light and funny and true, and the Pelican Links for the week, and finally the excellent sermon that I missed this Sunday, but have listened to twice—it is that helpful.

And most importantly, here is the tweet we made glorious fun of yesterday, while we were, in fact, not recording.

There is no way I will ever watch this movie, but that doesn’t stop my soul from glorying in the brilliance of this single tweet. This is even better than virtual church. I have heard cries that twitter must end because it is so abusive and awful (no argument there) but it is these little gems that redeem it so completely. Just Think! Out there, a whole lot of nice people are staggering through the doors on a Sunday morning (or evening or whenever) and, given that there is No Movie off limits to the mega-church lectionary machine, they are handed blindfolds as they come in. And the biblical literacy is so low, indeed non-existent, that no one tying it on, or no one in the brainstorming staff meeting before hand says, ‘Hey Guys, isn’t sight one of the central themes of scripture? Do you think there’s any chance, once we tweet this incredible unconventional experience out, the whole world will laugh at us?’ ‘Nah bruh,’ says the guy across that able, ‘it’s Bird Box. It’s awesome.’

As we said in our providentially lost podcast, if you go to a church where you put your hands in the air, the last thing you want is the guy next to you blindfolded. That’s a recipe for pain. Also, you know what’s really restricting? Tying on a blindfold so that you can’t use one of your major faculties. Hashtag Restricting. You know what is anxiety inducing? Not being able to see.

Indeed, I feel like this single tweet is the perfect icon of the church in the west right now, tying on blindfolds on purpose, trying to find its way along as if there weren’t sight delivering gifts like, oh, I don’t know, The Bible, or Two Thousand Years of Christians Smarter Than Me.

I mean, I know that spiritual sight is thing we need as we wander down the dark path of this mortal life, that of course we can’t see, that’s why we neeed Jesus, but the Point of physical sight is so that you will understand your need for Spiritual Sight. It’s like a, what’dya call it, Metaphor for a spiritual verity that none of us want or have the capacity to face. But the modern Christian likes to deliberately blind himself to the light of the Bible, tie on his blind, and listen to the rumblings of his tummy and his heart, which only ever makes him blinder. God gave you eyes to read the scripture so that they eyes of your heart would be enlightened. But whatever, tie that sucker on and wander around in the dark. #awesome.

One of the things I adored about this weekend was walking into the chapel and suddenly there, through a wide expanse of clear glass, was the water—muted, serene, calm. Trees formed a perfect frame around its vast expanse. Gray, somber light flooded in. And then we read the scripture aloud, so that that the inner ear, and the outer ear could hear, and spiritual light could fall and push away the troubled darkness of doubt and disbelief. It was conventional, ordinary, convicting, and perfect. Hashtag No Judgment Forsooth. May God have mercy on us all. Which I expect he will, at least for everyone who takes that foolish blindfold off and looks to the Light of the World.