What We Don’t See

Highland Avenue Church of the Brethren

Written by Kendra Harbeck – July 10, 2022

What We Don’t See – John 9: 1-11

Have you ever acted as if you couldn’t see someone? Maybe it’s someone you’ve had a disagreement or embarrassing situation with and don’t want to talk to. Maybe it’s someone who’s under the influence of substances and is acting in a way you don’t know how to react to. Maybe it’s someone who is asking for money that you don’t want to give to. Wouldn’t it be great if the person you’re pretending not to see can’t actually see you?

The Bible mentions blindness a lot. The variety of verses range from God striking people with blindness, people being accused of spiritual blindness, prophetic promises that God will give the blind sight, and tales of Jesus healing the blind, such as in today’s Scripture passage.

There is a lot happening in this passage from John, and the story continues beyond what Josh read out loud. There is a lot of material that could be unpacked theologically. However, I am not a theologian, so instead, I want to unpack a bit about the situation I imagine this blind man to be in, and how it can connect to the topic of blindness in our current time and place.

Just short of 3 years ago, I left my job with the Church of the Brethren to start a graduate program in teaching students who are visually impaired, and I’m now one year into a career as a teacher and an orientation and mobility specialist. But before I go any further, a huge disclaimer: before starting the program, I’d never had any personal interaction with people who are blind, and I’m obviously still quite new to the field…there is so much I don’t know, and I may be talking to some folks who have much more experience with it than I do. And no matter how long I may work in this field, I recognize that, as long as I still have functional vision, I can never truly understand what it’s like to live without sight; I don’t want to try to speak for the blind community. But I can speak for the sighted community, and through observing and listening to those who can’t see, I have started to become more aware of what the rest of us don’t see.

We don’t see how much we take for granted.

Yes, I think all of us with vision realize at some level that life would be a lot harder if we didn’t have it – that’s pretty obvious. But the more I get to know, listen to, and try to teach people who are blind, the more acutely I’m aware of how completely sight-reliant almost all elements of my life are. Think about all the steps you’ve taken today to get here, from getting dressed, preparing and eating a meal, using transportation, even your literal footsteps from one place to another, and consider how you could do all of that without vision. Almost everything takes so much more thought and effort.

What’s more, though, is that we don’t see that this world was built for us. Pick anything and all things in our society: our modes of transportation, our means of entertainment, our educational systems, our ways of worship, and it’s clear that they are all built by sighted people for sighted people. Sometimes, modifications and accommodations are attempted for people who can’t see, but they’re often given low priority. Our world would operate a lot differently if no one could see.

We don’t see that vulnerability is strength, not weakness. We don’t see that putting our trust in others and asking for help doesn’t mean we can’t be independent.

The writers of the Bible tend to portray blind people as weak and helpless, and I think that mindset exists in various forms today. But moving about this world without sight takes extreme strength and boldness. I don’t want to put people who are blind on a pedestal, but let’s give credit where it’s due. Walking by faith and not by sight is a common adage in the Christian faith, but to literally walk without sight is terrifying. A significant component of my grad school training was working on skills under the blindfold. Going down stairs, using a stove, crossing the street…it was all so intimidating in a way I couldn’t quite comprehend until I tried it. Living without sight is living with the vulnerability of not knowing what’s on all sides of you; it’s living with the trust that drivers will pay attention and not turn without looking. It’s living with the vulnerability that at some point, you’ll likely get hit in the face by a low-hanging branch or bump into a table and living with the hope that it won’t hurt too much. Part of orientation and mobility instruction for street crossings includes knowing when to solicit assistance as part of independent travel – living without sight means acknowledging that regularly asking for help doesn’t make you less of a person.

We don’t see people who are blind. Not really, anyhow.

In today’s story, the blind man’s neighbors can’t tell for sure whether it’s really him once he’s been healed. This confusion is repeated later in the passage by the Pharisees who were trying to criticize Jesus, causing writer Sarah Dylan Breuer to note that: “And so it may be that the most damning point this scripture passage has against Jesus' accusers is one that we easily miss: they did not know the blind man who was healed. He sat and begged there daily, and every day they walked by him, but when the time came, they couldn't be sure of who he was.”

Unfortunately, invisibility and isolation continue to be challenges for people in the blind community. Paradoxically, it’s like sighted people sometimes act as if they can’t see the blind person in front of them. This past spring, I served as a one-on-one aide to a high school freshman, who had lost all of his vision only two years earlier. I attended some of his mainstream classes with him so that I could help explain the concepts and modify materials, and something that always saddened me was how utterly ignored by his classmates he was. Without any peers initiating communication with him, he had no way of knowing who was around him and thus sat in a bubble of isolation. There were even some instances when his teachers would ask me questions about the student as if he wasn’t there.

My guess is that most of us have not had much personal interaction with someone who is totally blind. And when it comes to other people, what we don’t have much experience with tends to make us uncomfortable. It feels awkward to talk to people who can’t see us, so we don’t. We notice their inability to see, but we don’t notice how we consequently rob them of the opportunity to talk. We don’t see how this robs people who are blind of their integrity and individuality. Just as the neighbors and Pharisees only saw the man for his blindness, something to be pitied and likely disdained, we often fail to see people beyond their disability.

We don’t see how people who are blind can accomplish the same things we can. We don’t see that there are other ways of doing things.

In the Scripture story, one of the things we can gather about the blind man is that he is destitute – the neighbors talk about how he used to sit and beg. It would have been unheard of at the time of this story for a blind man to work and make a living. This is not still the case, but barriers and discrimination in employment continue to be a major challenge for people who are blind. Various sources indicate that there is only about a 40% labor force participation rate among people who are visually impaired. Last summer, as part of a class assignment, I interviewed my friend and classmate Raven, who is blind, and she told of being passed over for a job because of her blindness, despite having experience for it. She explained: “I feel like they didn’t even ask me, ‘how would you do this?’…Many people don’t understand that these things can be done. So when the understanding is missing, blind people don’t get jobs, or blind parents get their kids taken away. People don’t understand that there are ways to get things done that are different but effective.”

She’s so right…because those of us in dominant, ableist society can’t imagine doing many things without vision, we assume that blind people can’t do them. I have to admit that when I got to know another classmate who is blind and who is a father to two young children, I found myself wondering how one could adequately parent without vision. Our society delegitimizes the strategies and methods that blind people have to accomplish tasks in a different way.

We don’t see how we’re afraid of blindness.

Today’s Scripture story starts with Jesus’ disciples asking him whether in the case of someone born blind, it was that individual or his parents who had sinned in order to cause the blindness. At that time, the fate of blindness likely seemed random and very scary, so it would make sense if society tried to come up with an explanation for it, a desperate hope that as long as they didn’t sin, their family wouldn’t be affected by such a thing.

Today’s science tells us many of the ways blindness happens. But I don’t think that makes us any less afraid of it. To live in darkness is fear-inducing. But beyond this, we don’t see how we’re agitated by other people’s blindness. We feel uncomfortable with ways of living that are so drastically different than our own. We’re afraid that interacting with people who can’t see us may be too awkward. We get annoyed at having to wait for a blind person to continue their path of travel or at the time needed to make modifications for them. We don’t want the discomfort that someone else’s way of being puts upon our own psyche.

I’ve been talking all about blindness, and while I think it’s good to expand awareness about what is called a ‘low-incidence disability,” a point I believe is key is that all of these things we don’t see in regards to blindness also ring true for all angles of privilege. In the spheres in which we live with privilege, we often don’t see it. We don’t see that the world was built for us. We don’t notice how everything is built for those who can walk easily unless we start to experience mobility issues. We don’t realize the heterosexual-norms that exist in our culture until we take a moment to honestly consider them. We’re oblivious to the policies, practices, and structures of white privilege because they’re so ingrained that we can’t see them until we learn new ways of looking. In regards to any disability that we don’t have, to any minority group that we’re not a part of, we so often don’t truly see the individual beyond the label. We don’t admit that we’re afraid of the difference, that we’re uncomfortable with what we don’t truly understand. We don’t want to see how we resent that someone’s way of doing things, of living life, differently, encroaches upon our security and comfort.

This is all a bummer, I know. But let’s go back to our Scripture story and remember that it has a happy ending. Jesus heals the man and restores his sight, after all. Of all the Jesus healing stories in the Gospels, I think this one might be my favorite, because it’s in this one where Jesus is playing in the mud. Based on all the other stories, Jesus can heal without lifting a finger – he doesn’t need anything else. But in this story, he’s using his own spit and some dirt. To me, this act bestows value in the earth we walk upon and from which we are nourished. To me, this shows that a difference can be made if we’re willing to give of ourselves and get our hands dirty.

And yet, the question of how and to what extent Jesus physically healed the man’s eyesight is secondary to me. Because I don’t think Jesus is calling me to give sight to the blind, not even with some really good mud. What matters most to me in this story isn’t so much that Jesus allowed this blind man to see; it’s that Jesus really saw this blind man, and helped others to see him too.

That’s the good news: that once we get to know even one person who is blind, or who has any significant difference from ourselves, we start to see better. Before, when I took walks, I didn’t pay much attention to the sidewalk, but now I look at each crossing to see if it has the raised bumps and whether those bumps are actually aligned with the crosswalk or if they’d send someone into the middle of the intersection. We can start to see the challenges that our infrastructure, physical and societal, pose for different people, and seeing can lead to speaking up, which can lead to change.

In the interview with my classmate Raven, when I asked what message she’d want to give about blindness, she stated that “so many people are concerned about curing blindness, but what most of us really want is the ability to have equitable access. … A lot of people look at blindness like it’s a tragedy. But being blind isn’t the hardest thing; the hardest thing is the lack of accessibility, which can be fixed! Yes, my vision can’t be fixed, but we can take down these barriers.”

So this is my call for us today: that we may start to truly see. See the barriers that our society has put up for so many people. See the ways we shut out those whose differences make us uncomfortable or who cause us extra hassle. See ways to give each individual a place at the table.

Lord, give us eyes to see. Amen.