Split-Brain (2 Corinthians 5:7)

In severe cases of epilepsy—when seizures can’t be controlled—surgeons have sometimes cut the connection between the two halves of the brain, the corpus callosum, a procedure sometimes referred to in simpler terms as creating a “split-brain.”

It’s not common. Usually a last resort. But it reveals something about how we process what we see. The brain doesn’t divide neatly, but the two hemispheres tend to specialize. The left side leans analytical. Language. Logic. Step-by-step reasoning. It builds explanations. The right side leans perceptual. Spatial awareness. Pattern recognition. Emotion. It takes things in, often without putting them into words.

Normally, they work together. What one sees, the other helps interpret. But when that connection is disrupted, something unusual can happen. Because visual information crosses over: The right visual field goes to the left hemisphere and the left visual field goes to the right hemisphere. So if an object is shown only to the left visual field, a patient may reach out and pick up the correct object with their left hand… but when asked what they saw, they might say, “I didn’t see anything.”

They’re not lying. Part of them perceived it. Another part is explaining the moment… without access to what was actually seen. That stays with me. Because it means a person can respond to something real and still explain it wrong.

There’s a man in John 9 who had never seen anything in his life. Born blind. No reference point. No framework. And then Jesus gives him sight. He doesn’t try to interpret it. Doesn’t construct a theory. When people question him, all he says is, “I was blind, now I see.

The people questioning him are the Pharisees—religious leaders, experts in Scripture, men trained to interpret truth and guard it carefully. They are not careless thinkers. They are disciplined. Precise. Certain in what they understand about God. And they don’t miss what happened. They see the man. They question him. They bring in his parents. They review the details. They know something real has taken place. But they cannot accept what it means. Not because there isn’t enough evidence. Because it doesn’t fit.

Jesus healed on the Sabbath. That alone creates a problem. So they begin to work around it. They question the method. They question the man. They question the timing. They don’t deny the miracle. They reinterpret it. They already know how God should act. So when He doesn’t follow their expectations, they don’t change their understanding. They reshape what they’re seeing. And in doing that, they remain certain. Certain—and wrong.

Jesus says, “For judgment I came into this world, that those who do not see may see, and those who see may become blind.” And later, “If you were blind, you would have no guilt; but now that you say, ‘We see,’ your guilt remains.”

The problem isn’t lack of sight. It’s confidence in what we think we see. The blind man had nothing to defend. No system to preserve. No explanation to protect. And over time, his understanding grows. “The man called Jesus…” “He is a prophet…” “Lord, I believe.”

He follows what he’s been given. The Pharisees move in the opposite direction. More information. More analysis. More certainty. But no movement. It’s possible to encounter something real and explain it into something else. That’s not just their story. There are moments that don’t sit right. Conversations that linger longer than they should. Patterns that repeat. Decisions that carry a weight that doesn’t go away. And something in us recognizes it before we can explain it, before we can name it. But we don’t stay there. We move quickly. We interpret. We justify. We organize it into something that makes sense.

Like the split-brain patients who’ve had the connection between the two halves of their brain—the corpus callosum, part of us sees something clearly. Another part steps in to explain it—without access to what was actually seen. The explanation sounds reasonable. It fits. It holds together. But it isn’t true. That’s the part that’s hard to recognize. Because the explanation feels right.

Walk by faith, not by sight.
2 Corinthians 5:7 (ESV)

Not because sight is useless, but because what we do with what we see can still lead us somewhere else.

“I was blind… now I see.”

That’s where it starts.

Love and trust in the Lord; seek His will in your life.

#faith #trustinggod #christianity #jesuschrist #bible #seekinggodswill #truth #sanctification #godisincontrol #godhearsourprayers #salvation #providenceofGod #split-brain #2Corinthians5:7

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