She could be your daughter. Perhaps she’s one of your friends. She’s an extraordinary girl in many ways, but there are girls like her everywhere. She believes she is a liberated woman. You can see she’s trapped.
She’s like a lot of other girls, a victim of her own wishful blindness. She is entangled in the spell of an angry young man. On occasional Friday nights, he seems like the strong, masculine presence who can cradle her in feelings of safety and belonging. But most times he’s only selfish, tense, distant, distracted, and ungrateful.
She insists they’re not ready for marriage, all the obligations and burdens you accept in exchange for something that’s just a piece of paper. Yeah, except she’s ready. It’s why she waits for him to come home at night, does his laundry, straightens the apartment, and helps pay his bills. If she weren’t ready for commitment, she would have already given up on him.
Her wishful blindness came to mind last week as I read through John 12. Jesus laments that he’d give anything to rescue the trapped, self-destructive Israelites crowding the streets of the city all around him. “He has blinded their eyes and hardened their heart, lest they see with their eyes, and understand with their heart, and turn, and I would heal them.” (John 12:40)
Anybody can see the power of God and the glory of eternity in this one of a kind rabbi named Jesus; anybody except all his wishfully blind countrymen who are so afraid of change that they continue to give a dead end avenue one more chance- and another, and another. This kind of blindness is sometimes confused with fearlessness, but in fact it’s nothing more than undiluted dread, the terror of coming up empty.
Unbelievably, there is none so blind as he who will not see.
Lift up the cross!