Went, washed, saw

Went, Washed, Saw

The blind man followed Jesus' instructions. He went to the pool called "Sent". He washed the spit-infused mud from his eyes. (The act of Jesus being incredibly intimate.) When he had done what Jesus had told him, he saw. Finally! Surprisingly, he saw what so many others fail to see. "Surely, we're not blind, are we?" It only takes simple faith and equally simple elements like mud and spit to see.

At a recent men's retreat we were led through a period of noticing and trusting. We used words like anger and joy and so forth to draw lines representing these emotions and feelings. The lines in some ways had meaning for the draw-er. Yet, upon observation by others, held little meaning; they were jagged lines, smooth flowing lines, either intersecting or isolated. Each was formed by a thought or emotion and contained a story.

The lines were transformed by the positioning of a viewfinder; a plain piece of paper with a square the size of a tile we were yet to design cut out of the center. The leader had knowledge and a plan for the group, but we couldn't see what it was: We had to keep trusting the process. At least one retreatant, who was almost blind (literally) gave up in frustration. (Why couldn't we help him see?) The viewfinder helped us zero in, narrowing our perspective. Suddenly, our lines started to open our eyes to new possibilities. We started moving it around and by doing so our sight changed and we saw so many possibilities arising. This started to fill our hearts with joy and anticipation because we began noticing something new shimmering and unfolding. There were plenty of times of frustration as we began to add shape to our squares. Is this really going to work? How will it turn out? This just isn't working for me. A time of being vulnerable, of letting go of control.

When we finally went downstairs to the studio and awkwardly yet lovingly traced our lines with markers and applied then to the wet surface of the clay tile, we kept moving along step by step, and with each step seeing a little more clearly. Something was emerging and we carried on in anticipation. Peeling off the paper, the design remained on the clay. We were then told that there was to be a dark and a light section on each tile, and to keep this in mind in order for what was unfolding to come out according to plan. We applied light and dark slip (paint) remembering how the instructor made it look so easy. It wasn't.  Is this working? Worth the effort? But... We were encouraged again and again to be patient and to trust the process. Even when we did make mistakes, we were told that was okay, not to worry. All will be well.

 When we all came together with our tiles, we couldn't believe our eyes when we saw before us a beautiful ankh or "key of life" with all the lines which were drawn in isolation coming together forming a beautiful symbol of life representing the cross, representing good hope and trust, representing the "going", the "washing", the "seeing" of "a man born blind", and finally, the true life of that which was always there right in front of us waiting for us to see.

Surely, we were blind, weren't we? With guidance, trust, and faith in the process, we will surely see. We truly see.