Whereas I was blind, now I see
Jesus Christ is the difference-maker in faith, politics, human rights, and everything else
And as Jesus passed by, He saw a man which was blind from his birth. / And He disciples asked Him, saying: Master, who did sin, this man, or his parents, that he was born blind?
Jesus answered, Neither hath this man sinned, nor his parents: But that the works of God should be made manifest in him. (John 9:1-2)
I was about age 10 when my parents started pushing me to be friends with a girl in our church congregation. We were both home-schooled and shy, so we were paired up all the time anyway, ostensibly friends from the start—but we didn’t share many hobbies, and we hadn’t known each other for long, so my heart hadn’t caught up quite yet. I wasn’t entirely interested in being friends with her at first.
But one Sunday she gave a little talk in sacrament meeting. I remember watching her step up to the podium, face pale and nervous. She started speaking about Jesus.
And all of a sudden, I was overcome with the sweetest, warmest love for her.
It was the strangest thing. Suddenly I heard everything she said as if hearing her speak for the first time and I loved all that she had to say. I fell in love with her perspective. And when the meeting finished, I ran up to her to congratulate her and thank her for her talk. It was one of the best talks I’d ever heard. And she was suddenly one of my favorite people.
It was the most rapid, inexplicable, life-changing thing. But all of a sudden, I loved her. We still didn’t have much in common. But I didn’t care. And that love has never since gone away, though we did not grow to be more alike. I still adore her and we are good friends. Particularly, while we were young, that friendship blessed us—me—so much. Thanks to my deep affection for her, previously boring, awkward church meetings and family get-togethers became cause for celebration; all of a sudden, I had someone I could rely on and invite into my own heart, too.
In the intervening years, her talk, listening to her while love flooded my heart, has never left me. Because as she opened her mouth to speak about Jesus, it was as if He gave me His eyes, and all of a sudden I saw her a little more like how He does. And that gave us a bond that will never be broken.
Since then, I have tried to recreate that miracle with other people. It was clear to me that my love for her was a piece of God’s love, and that that love was clearer, more enduring, and more motivating than any other kind of love I could conjure up on my own.
I have achieved some recreations with success while in college, confronting different perspectives and working with new friends; while teaching the Gospel in Arizona, trying to find anyone willing to learn about Jesus Christ; and while traveling the world, from Germany to Morocco to India, speaking with people of all faiths, creeds, and backgrounds. Many times, I have had to try hard to love different people. I have had to pray, to labor, and to spend time with them. At first, my feelings for them were usually forced and artificial, like with the girl from my church growing up. I would try to care, but not succeed; I would smile, but not with my heart.
But after sincere prayer and labor, that sweet, genuine feeling would come.
It was as if He gave me His eyes, and all of a sudden I saw… a little more like how He does.
Rushing like a flood into me. Pure and overwhelming and irrevocable. I have never once lost my love for any of those people. And it was always the gift of God. Each time, I was acutely conscious of the Savior’s hand in mine, His voice in my ears, because each time I saw the person standing in front of me as divine and wonderful—and beloved, infinitely, amazingly, so much so that I hungered to know more about them because I knew that God loved them so much.
In essence, God gave me new eyes.
I was not read up on the New Testament when I first experienced this kind of miracle. But now my favorite passage is John 9—just because I know how that healed man feels.
As long as I am in the world, I am the light of the world.
When [Jesus] had thus spoken… he anointed the eyes of the blind man with the clay, / And said unto him, Go, wash in the pool of Siloam… He went his way therefore, and washed, and came seeing. (John 9:5-7)
***
In the past year, I have been to many new places. I have also witnessed a depth of poverty and corruption that I have never before seen. From extreme poverty in the Atlas Mountains of Morocco to the grandeur of the King’s palace in Rabat. From old men missing all their teeth, women carrying sacks up mountains, and children who will never receive an education, to wealthy old men building billion-dollar stadiums and gorgeous halls, which will never receive anyone but them and their families.
From children, bleeding and dying in Gaza, to greedy men in safe, private rooms, holding onto power and pride while innocents perish. From students trying to scrape out their futures while faraway politicians make plans to bomb them and redevelop their homes. From people with real, valid suffering that could so easily be cured, to people who know those problems, who have seen them with their own eyes, who receive reports, who hear protests, but fail to act. Who stand upon the bones and backs of their fellow men.
(I concede that some of these examples may not be black and white. There are many complexities to politics and the interplay of wealth and power. But from Hamas’s treachery to Netanyahu’s extremism, from Putin’s conquest of Ukraine to Trump’s relentless mockery of half of his country, many of whom are suffering—it becomes clear that there are people in positions of power and advantage who are choosing to inflict more pain than they need to.
And why?)
The last few months in Morocco have worked a change in me. While the news from America spins in endless cycles of rage, I have immersed myself in a new political landscape. I have visited protests and watched police drag young adults like me into vans. I have sat down with detained demonstrators and listened to their stories of police abuse and violence. I have walked through the halls of mountain villages and spoken to young women who will never receive an education. I have walked through luxurious halls and observed billion-dollar construction projects.
I have watched waves of people marching in Rabat, Casablanca, Marrakech, Essaouira, and more, calling on the government to end corruption. Meanwhile, similar movements have taken place in Madagascar, Nepal, Bangladesh, and Algeria; meanwhile, No Kings protests pop up across the United States.
I want to help!
So many of the students with me here want to help, too. But it has become clear that millions and millions of people marching is not enough. There is no amount of logic, evidence, or people that can convince someone to help when they do not want to.
I do not think that logic, evidence, or everyone else being obsessed with that girl from my church could have genuinely instilled in me love for her.
Only God could have done that.
In essence, God gave me new eyes.
I ask myself how I can help while I watch protestors congregate in the streets. I ask myself how I can help while a demonstrator is tear-gassed. I ask myself how I can help while beggars sit on gilded streets and people cry and ask for justice. I ask myself how I can help while children die in foreign wars and old men profit off their graves.
I cannot help. None of us can. No amount of people can.
The only thing that changed me was God.
Then again called [the Pharisees] the man that was blind, and said unto him, Give God the praise: We know that this man [Jesus] is a sinner.
He answered and said, Whether he be a sinner or no, I know not: One thing I know, that, whereas I was blind, now I see. (John 9:24-25)
***
The only thing that can change someone else is God. Which compels me to ask—is God with me?
If I want to serve and bless others, if I genuinely want to persuade others, then I must, must have the Spirit of God with me. As President M. Russell Ballard once taught—“True conversion comes through the power of the Spirit. When the Spirit touches the heart, hearts are changed.” While proselyting in Arizona, my mission president frequently reminded me that a missionary can only carry the Gospel message to the door of someone’s heart. Only the Spirit can enter.
In other words, I cannot make someone else see. Only Jesus can.
Ergo, I must have the Spirit to be with me.
Here comes the point of this very long, rambling essay, but with all the stories I have previously shared, I hope that my meaning is fully clear to you. If we want to change the world and serve others, it does not matter how technically right we are. It does not matter if we have logic or evidence. It doesn’t even matter if we had the Spirit with us when we determined our political perspectives or constructed our opinions.
If we do not have the Spirit with us, right now, in truth and sincerity, then we cannot truly help the world in the way that it must be helped.
The only way that we can have the Spirit with us is if we improve our moral and spiritual character and align it with the Lord’s, also in truth and sincerity.
As I have walked the streets of Morocco, it has become increasingly plain that building my resumé will not do as much to position me in a place to make a difference as building my moral character will. It has become clear that speaking a foreign language will serve to influence someone less than speaking with the Spirit will. It has become clear that becoming like Jesus Christ is at least a co-equal, and in truth, a more vital part of my education than anything else.
Back to that girl from my church. Ever since the Spirit touched my heart, I have loved her; I have come to know her; and though we may differ and disagree, I will never stop loving her, striving with her, and caring for her comfort, her opinions, and her goals.
If I could only see everyone with the eyes of Jesus, then I would never hold myself above them. I would never put personal gain over their needs.
If only we could help others see with the eyes of Jesus, then maybe we could live together in love and peace.
“In coming days, it will not be possible to survive spiritually without the guiding, directing, comforting and constant influence of the Holy Ghost,” taught President Russell M. Nelson in his first remarks as the prophet of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, back in April 2018.
He also taught that one of the “greatest gifts of God to His children” is the Holy Ghost.
Now we know that God heareth not sinners: But if any man be a worshipper of God, and doeth His will, him He heareth.
Since the world began was it not heard that any man opened the eyes of one that was born blind.
If this man were not of God, He could do nothing. (John 9:31-33)