This is the great irony of this passage. In front of a man blind from birth, Jesus reveals that the disciples have been the same: blind to their sin from birth; they're blind to their own blindness. The same is often all too true of us, isn't it?
I still remember getting “The Talk.” Ironically, it was a talk about life that made me want to die.
Our obedience is not the condition of our acceptance; it is the consequence of our acceptance. Loved by God, we love him in return. As we grow in our love of God, we will grow to love what he loves more and more - something that we will express in growing obedience. If we would grow to loathe our sin, let us first grow in our love of Christ!
We owe a debt of gratitude to the Babylon Bee. Its satirical critiques and correctives of American evangelicalism are arguably more helpful and effective than the last hundred, more serious books on the phenomena combined. It definitely enjoys a bigger audience. And for good reason: the Bee is hilarious, often painfully so.
Jesus knew everything about you, but came here anyway. He entered this world and the story of your redemption eyes wide open. He knows all about you - all. You could not be more known or vulnerable than before the probing insight of his omniscient gaze; the splendor of his omnipotent might; and the inescapability of his omnipotent presence. Before him, you're laid bare.
Thankfully, someday, when we enter his rest, our vantage point will change and we’ll see more clearly what our Dad was making all along. Someday, the confusing and criss-crossed aspects of our lives will be revealed as the necessary craftsmanship of the ultimate Artisan. He is making all things beautiful again.
There are so many things that clamor for our attention - so many responsibilities, so many distractions. If we’re not careful, what matters least can shift our attention from what matters most. All too easily we can lose our sense of awe, our sense of reverence before God - revealed in his works and Word.