“And having opened his mouth, he began to teach them, saying…”
I didn’t expect something to pop here.
On this gospel-imbibing path I have embarked upon, I’m not necessarily looking for things to pop, but I confess I do wonder if I’m even paying attention when they don’t. Which means I’m wondering most of the time. I wonder if I’m moving in the grove. I mean, if nothing’s popping out at me, what does this say about the condition of my heart?
“Is your heart still hardened? Having eyes, don’t you see? Having ears, don’t you hear?”
I think this is called a polite (and very biblical) way of saying, “Idiot.”
And that pretty much captures how I feel most of the time when I’m reading these gospels. Or just breathing, for that matter.
Then I find myself wanting to make something pop.
Some people hate my analogy of the Bible (and life, for that matter) as the ultimate Magic Eye book – you know those books with pages filled with seemingly meaningless patterns of colors and designs with a hidden 3D image inside those patterns? The key to having the image pop out at you? Stop trying so hard. Relax your eyes. In fact, cross them slightly. And then, when it pops and you start to see it, don’t screw it up by trying to focus. Look past it. Look right through it. And yes, you will look like an idiot as you sit there, eyes unfocused, dreamy. Now you just need your head to lilt a bit. And a wee stream of drool from the corner of your mouth would be a nice touch.
You are now in full epiphany mode.
Such an epiphany mode is, of course, a very difficult mode in which to compose a systematic theology – which, of course, explains why most systematic theologies are so very 2D. And why Jesus never wrote one. We try too hard.
We would do well to look at Scripture – in fact to look at people, at the world, at all of life just a bit more like Jesus did.
Just a bit more cross-eyed…