TD Jakes - Seeing the Invisible
One of the first things we teach our children when we take them out in public and see someone who is physically infirmed or incapacitated, or someone with a mental issue, is to tell our children, «Don’t stare. Don’t stare. Don’t stare at him. Don’t stare at him.» Over time, «don’t stare» evolves into «don’t see,» and gradually, people who have problems, issues, or are in any way different from us tend to be mentally erased from our minds, as if we do not see what we actually do see. It is interesting to notice that during the pandemic, the term «first responder» suddenly changed its meaning.
A few years ago, a first responder was a fireman or a police officer responding to 911 calls, and we celebrated them as heroes, which was entirely justified due to their amazing deeds. However, amid this current pandemic, the term evolved to acknowledge those who had remained invisible to us—people who drive us, deliver packages, work in grocery stores, and put themselves in harm’s way to ensure our needs were met.
Suddenly, we found ourselves clapping for them, honoring them, singing songs for them, and acknowledging their importance. We recognized that without their contributions, we could not accomplish what we do; they became significant in that moment. Nevertheless, until then, they had been invisible. Nobody clapped for the girl at the checkout counter, nobody applauded the guy who bagged our groceries, nobody thanked the person who delivered a sandwich, and nobody recognized or appreciated the pizza delivery person. They tended to be invisible to us.
When I talk to homeless individuals throughout the years of our ministry, they often express that one of the most challenging aspects of being homeless is that they cease to be recognized as people. They stand in need while people drive by as if they are a different species altogether; they look and then look away, trying to ignore them. They do not see them or recognize that, but for the grace of God, it could be them. They fail to recognize that at one time, that person might have worked at a store or bank, or been someone’s father or mother—and may still be a mother or father to someone. Yet, they become invisible because we tend to perceive people who are different from us as others, thereby rendering them invisible and absolving us of the responsibility to care for them.
I want you to reflect on that today. While we know it is not a good thing, we can understand how some individuals become invisible. Unfortunately, we sometimes take people for granted and fail to truly see them. We also recognize that people within our own homes can become invisible. When we think about Jacob and Leah, he believed he was working 14 years to marry Rachel—seven years to secure Rachel and an additional seven years, only to be given Leah in her place. He found himself in a situation where he spent the night with her and did not realize until morning that it was not Rachel. I am baffled at the concept: how could you spend all night with someone, be intimate, hold them in your arms, and still not know who they are? That represents the worst kind of blindness, the ultimate invisibility, where you objectify an individual and fail to see them as a person.
The Bible states that in the morning he said, «Behold, it is Leah.» He did not even know who he was with. So many of us live in situations where we work with people who do not see us, where we are married to individuals who do not see us, where we birth children who do not see us, where we have parents who do not see us, and where we attend churches where we are overlooked. We live in this invisible pseudo-reality that God is preparing to transform, doing amazing things that will bring us to the forefront. Do not be shy; there will be clapping, there will be shouting from the windows, and there will be banging on pots, all proclaiming, «We appreciate you!» Because suddenly, the invisible are about to become visible.