Lenten Riff for Week 5, 2025

 It’s an unusual story—one found only in the gospel of Mark (Mark 8:22-26). It is a healing story that required a second touch. Of all the healing stories found in the gospels, this is the only one in which a second touch was required for the healing to be complete.

At Bethsaida, people brought a blind man to Jesus so Jesus could heal him. When Jesus anointed the man’s eyes and touched them, he asked the man: “Can you see anything?” (Mark 8:23). The man replied, “I can see people, but they look like trees, walking” (Mark 8:24). Jesus then touched the man’s eyes again. After this second touch, the man “saw everything clearly” (Mark 8:26).

The fact that Mark’s gospel alone relates the story indicates the story had significance for the gospel writer. The author placed the story in the middle of his gospel—halfway through it—so that it divided the gospel into two sections. Those two sections correspond to the two-staged healing of the blind man. Before Jesus’s touch, he was blind. After the first touch, he could see, but not clearly. After the second touch, the man could then see clearly.

In my mind, the blind man is a metaphor for the disciples. In the first half of the gospel, they were blind. They did not recognize who Jesus was (Mark 4:41) nor could they understand what he taught them (Mark 8:17-21). Immediately after the miracle, they recognized Jesus was the Messiah (Mark 8:27-30). They were now able to see, but they did not yet see clearly. They could not accept what Jesus taught them about the suffering the Messiah was to experience (Mark 8:31-33). A second touch would be required for them to see clearly. That second touch would come in the resurrection.

This metaphor-story points to a central truth about discipleship—a truth reflected in our Lenten journey. Discipleship is about learning to see clearly. It is about learning the ways of God Jesus taught. A key part of that learning process is letting go of and moving beyond the way the world trained us to think. This “letting go” dimension of learning is reflected in Mark’s healing story.

In the story, Jesus led the blind man out of the village in order to heal him (Mark 8:23). Taking the story as a metaphor (rather than literally), the village represents the culture in which the man lived—what we call “the world.” In order to learn what Jesus would teach him—that is, for him to “see”—the man had to get outside of how his culture had trained him to think. He had to move beyond the world’s way of thinking and living. Learning the ways of God Jesus taught leads us beyond how the world trained us to think and beyond the thinking that governs how the world operates. Note that once the man could see clearly—that is, once he understood the ways of God Jesus taught—Jesus commanded him to not go back to the world’s way of thinking: “Do not even go into the village” (Mark 8:26).

The gospel of Mark portrays discipleship was a journey in which we move from how the world trained us to think and live into thinking that is shaped by the teachings of Jesus. The Lenten journey reminds us of this ever-recurring learning process in which we move from being blind to seeing, but not clearly, to seeing clearly.

Prayer for the Lenten journey: Open our eyes, Lord Jesus, that we may see. Touch our eyes again and again until we see clearly.

Week 4 of the Lenten Journey, 2025

 One of the most difficult aspects of learning is the challenge of unlearning—moving beyond how we have been trained to think, letting go of what we already believe. We cannot embrace a new, different way of thinking as long as we cling to an old way of thinking.

We see this reality in the twelve as they journeyed with Jesus toward Jerusalem for the Passover celebration. Along the way, Jesus repeatedly told them what he would experience in Jerusalem—betrayal, arrest, trial, mockery, flogging, crucifixion, and death … but on the third day he would be raised from the dead (Mark 8:31; 9:30-32; 10:32-34). The twelve could not hear, much less accept, what he was saying. Instead of questioning and exploring what he was saying, they argued among themselves as to which of them was the greatest (Mark 9:33-34). Viewing one another as competitors, they jockeyed for hoped-for positions of status and power (Mark 10:35-41). Their old way of thinking blocked their ability to learn the new way of thinking—the ways of the kingdom—that Jesus was attempting to teach them.

In order to teach them a different way of thinking, Jesus had to confront the way the world had trained them to think—the thinking that fueled their arguing and jockeying for position.

“You know that among the Gentiles those whom they recognize as their rulers lord it over them, and their great ones are tyrants over them. but it is not so among you, but whoever wishes to become great among you must be your servant and whoever wishes to be first among you must be slave of all. For the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life a ransom for many” (Mark 10:42-25).

Jesus’s teaching draws a clear contrast between the ways of the kingdom and the ways of the world—specifically, between how power is used in the kingdom and how power is used in the world.

In the world—among the Gentiles—power is used over, down against others, for personal benefit at the other’s expense. It is used in self-serving ways with no regard for others. Jesus adamantly said this way of using power is not the way of the kingdom—“it is not so among you!” In the kingdom, power is used to serve. It is used alongside another, on their behalf, seeking their wholeness and wellbeing, even when it comes at cost to oneself. In the kingdom, power is used the way a servant uses power. This servant use of power is not only what Jesus taught; it is how he lived—“the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life a ransom for many.”

The disciples could not grasp this different way of thinking. Their old way of thinking blocked their ability to learn what Jesus was teaching them.

Ironically, how we think generally lies outside of our awareness. It functions as our automatic pilot, unconsciously governing what we do. We generally cannot recognize how we have been trained to think until we are confronted with thinking that challenges it—as in the teachings of Jesus.

Learning—understanding, accepting, and embracing a new way of thinking—requires us to recognize and consciously choose to move beyond our old way of thinking. To get there, we have to move beyond our defensive reactions to and knee-jerk rejection of that which is different from how we think. We have to be willing to reflect, to examine, to explore that which challenges our thinking. Learning requires a teachable spirit that trusts the Spirit to guide and teach.

As we continue to walk this Lenten journey, may the Spirit cultivate in us a teachable spirit—one that is willing to learn the ways of the kingdom even though those ways challenge how the world trained us to think.

Prayer for the Lenten journey: “Teach me your way, O LORD, that I may walk in your truth” (Psalm 86:11).