Finding Your Blind Spot

When I was young, we had a book in our home called Fun Science that was full of simple experiments requiring little or no special equipment. One page, I remember, featured an easy blind spot test. The outline of a house front covered the page. On one side of the house façade was a door, on the other side, a large black dot, and looking at the page as a whole, you couldn't miss the dot. The page gave instructions to the experimenter to hold the book approximately at arm's length and stare at the door, before slowly bringing the book closer to the face, keeping the attention focused on the door, and in the process... watching for that dot to disappear.

I tried it. I slowly pulled the book closer, and at a specific point, the big black dot that hovered in my peripheral vision completely blipped out. It wasn't a trick of light; I couldn't think I wasn't seeing it. As long as I looked at that door and held the book at that precise spot, I could search my periphery for that black dot all day long, and it would be completely invisible. 

Then I'd move the book, and voila! There, once again, was the black dot. I'd found my blind spot.

John the Baptist, in John 3:22-36 puts himself, to say it simplistically, in a blind spot. He walks himself back from the focal point and moves to the side where, as he states, his goal is to become the blind spot, the one in the corner, where attention goes from him and completely centers on the Door, the Gate, the Way.

To begin the section, John the Baptist is baptizing on the west side of the Jordan River, and while he's there, his disciples get into an argument with a random Jew about the whole concept of ceremonial washing. Which... raised a whole slew of questions that commenced a rabbit trail for me as I fell down a Google hole looking for answers. When baptism as we know it is centered around the idea of a public confession of faith in Jesus, and this was before most people had put their faith in Jesus, and John's ministry was before Jesus' ministry... what was the point of baptism in the first place?

After spending far too much time in Google, I came away with too much information, and am going to offer the far-too-simplistic answer that baptism was originally founded in the idea of "washing with water," and John the Baptist's testimony took that idea a step further and gave way to the concept of "washing with the Spirit," though he himself did not wash with the Spirit -- he only prepared the way for the One Who did, Jesus.

So when John the Baptist's disciples complain about this Jew they'd started an argument with, they bring up Jesus. "Rabbi," they say, "that Man Who was with you on the other side of the Jordan -- the One you testified about -- well, He is baptizing, and everyone is going to Him" (John 3:26). They're a little envious. They've watched their teacher's ministry in its full bloom for a while, and now, it has begun to lessen. In a manner of speaking, the pews are emptying, the book sales are decreasing, the offering plates aren't quite as full, all because of the shiny new preacher across town.

I love John the Baptist's metaphor he uses in response. "The bride belongs to the bridegroom. The friend who attends the bridegroom waits and listens for him, and is full of joy when he hears the bridegroom's voice" (John 3:29). 

I've had the opportunity to be a bridesmaid a few times, and my husband has attended the bridegroom in other weddings. In all cases, the best part of the entire day, the pinnacle of the wedding (besides perhaps the sealing kiss at the end) is when the groom catches sight of the bride at the end of the aisle, and the look of pure love that passes between the two is such a testament to everyone around. No one is (or should be) selfishly taking that love for themselves. The bridesmaids and the groomsmen are there to celebrate the joy that comes when the union of two people they love reaches its beatific apex.

John the Baptist describes this ceremony, and then encapsulates it with: "That joy is mine, and it is now complete. He must become greater; I must become less" (John 3:30).

Wow. Can you hear the absolute humility here? The total and complete lack of self-preservation, the flawless selflessness evident in that phrase? He must become greater; I must become less. "I am crucified with Christ; now I no longer live, but Christ lives in me" (Galatians 2:20). 

The meeting place between ourselves and Christ where we can totally push aside our own agendas, our own thoughts and ambitions, and take on Christ's -- that's the goal. The apex. The summit. The top of the top of the tiers of relationship with Jesus. He the Greater, I the less. I, the leaky vessel, absolutely worthless for holding anything except the miraculous power of Christ in me. Oh, Jesus, let Your all-surpassing power be all the more evident because of the lack of glory that surrounds this flawed clay jar.

He must become greater; I must become less. John the Baptist's entire mission, clearly stated, is in these words. He comes to prepare the way for Jesus, and when Jesus steps onto the stage, John's entire goal is to move into the blind spot, so that no one will be distracted by his presence on the stage. 

John the Baptist points to Jesus. "Look! The Lamb of God Who takes away the sin of the world!" (John 1:29) It is his entire motif. 

With forethought, with preparation, he purposely moves into the position of lesser, so that Christ can become greater.

His focus is on Christ, but more than that, he wants everyone's focus to be on Christ. It is his witness, his testimony for the purpose of elevating Jesus into the focal position and moving himself into the blind spot.

Most of us have two eyes, but those two eyes can only look at one thing. We can't look at two things simultaneously very well at all; that kind of split focus messes with our heads.

So, applying this, while we're bombarded with the events of 2020, while we're flattened with statistics of corona virus numbers, while we're overwhelmed with political craziness, while we're perhaps stuck at home over Christmas instead of celebrating with family, while we're laying aside our comforts and strapping on masks for the protection of others...

Let's look past the distractions and get to the greater point. Look at the Door, and let the distractions sink into the blind spots where they belong.