Blind to everything but
Thumbnail Image by Gerd Altmann, used under the Pixabay Content License
Proper 11, Year B – July 21, 2024
Mark 6:30-34, 53-56
Edie Wakevainen
The first word that pops into my head when I hear this Gospel lesson (Mark 6:30-34, 53-56) is “people-y.” YIKES! If I had been a disciple, I would have wanted to flee the scene, to get away from all of those people. The disciples had been doing and teaching—coming and going—and there were people everywhere they turned. Even Jesus couldn’t get them away from all the people. The people showed up at the previously deserted place in such numbers that there was a great crowd present before they arrived. Just too people-y!
But not for Jesus, it seems. He abandons the search for peace and rest. He and his disciples focus on those people and their needs-- for teaching, for guidance, and for healing. How do they do that with all of those people clamoring for their attention?
It’s not a supernatural power. It’s taking advantage of something our minds do naturally—ironically, something that can be really annoying! Have you ever walked in front of someone who is so glued to the TV that they don’t notice you are there, even if you jump up and down and call their name loudly? I thought this was a teenager thing until I got married. This happens because of a psychological phenomenon called inattentional blindness. We get so focused on one thing (like the TV show) that we don’t have a sliver of attention left to give to anything else (even someone we love). Inattentional blindness in action.
Inattentional blindness seems like a bad thing when it keeps us from getting someone’s attention, but in light of this Gospel, I think it can be used for good. I wonder if Jesus and the disciples used inattentional blindness to focus on each individual who crossed their paths. Instead of seeing the people-y masses, with inattentional blindness they could tune out everyone and everything except the one person right in front of them.
That’s the first step to loving and serving other people as Jesus calls us to do: Really seeing each individual human. For a long time, I’ve thought that our reluctance to leave our church buildings and get out into the surrounding community stems from fear of the unknown, uncertainty about the strangers we will encounter and how to meet their needs. More recently, I’ve come to believe that there’s more to it than fear. Perhaps we don’t want to engage with the community because it’s simply overwhelming. So many people, so many needs. Where would we even begin? Is it easier not to even start than to strike out in good faith and fail?
It doesn’t have to be overwhelming if we take advantage of our inattentional blindness. Each of us can put our full focus on the one individual who crosses our path. It doesn’t matter who that person is! After all, as the popular meme says, “You will never look into the eyes of someone God does not love.” Make eye contact with that beautiful human, and listen to them. With all the distractions tuned out, it will be easy to hear them and to hear God’s direction. How to love and serve will become abundantly clear. I am speaking from experience.
Last month at General Convention in Louisville, I left the Convention Center in a hurry to attend a rally sponsored by the Bishops United Against Gun Violence. Since our bishop is a leader of that group, it was important for people from our diocese to show up in support. I walked towards a group of people in orange shirts, assuming that they were a part of the rally. As I got closer, I saw that they were actually from Louisville’s Downtown Ambassadors, and they had stopped at the scene of an accident. Mary, a member of ECW from Pennsylvania, had hit an uneven piece of pavement with her disability scooter. She was lying motionless on the sidewalk, having just had the scooter removed from on top of her. It was a people-y situation. Lunchtime pedestrians heading for a quick bite. The Downtown Ambassadors securing the disability scooter and preparing for the ambulance to arrive. One of Mary’s friends talking with them about which of the local hospitals might be the best for her care. And then I noticed another woman, standing quietly, her gaze never leaving Mary, who was still motionless on the ground. I walked over to her and asked if I could help. Her name was Michelle, and she was Mary’s other friend. Not the one who would ride in the ambulance, but the one who gathered all of the belongings that scattered when Mary fell. After learning her name, and making eye contact, I felt a strong sense of peace come over me. I was certain that where God wanted me in that moment was with Michelle, making sure she did not feel alone.
That was inattentional blindness at work. I didn’t think about missing the gun violence rally (oh well). I didn’t think about Mary’s condition—there were trained medical personnel attending to her. I didn’t think about how blazing hot it was in the bright sun at noontime. I didn’t even recognize two acquaintances who stopped by to see if they could help. The ambulance left with Mary and her friend, the crowd dispersed, and I asked Michelle if she needed anything. She said no--and she said thank you for being with me. We parted ways, and I went through the rest of my Convention workday waiting for text updates on Mary’s condition. No broken bones! No internal injuries! God is good. The disability scooter didn’t fare so well.
And here I am, God, your child who has always wanted to run from people-y situations—saying, “BRING IT ON!” I can’t wait to encounter my next Michelle.
Thank you for helping me to understand that Jesus and his disciples may have used a common psychological phenomenon—inattentional blindness—to love and serve all of the people who crossed their paths. And I and we can do the same. Instead of being overwhelmed and fearing failure when we venture out into the community, we can wait for the individual that God has put on our path, look into their eyes, hear them, and listen for your voice guiding us in how to love them. One human at a time. May it be so.