John 9
As Jesus walked along, he saw a man blind from birth. 2 His disciples asked him, “Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?” 3 Jesus answered, “Neither this man nor his parents sinned; he was born blind so that God’s works might be revealed in him. 4 We must work the works of him who sent me while it is day; night is coming when no one can work. 5 As long as I am in the world, I am the light of the world.” 6 When he had said this, he spat on the ground and made mud with his spit and spread the mud on the man’s eyes, 7 saying to him, “Go, wash in the pool of Siloam” (which means Sent). Then he went and washed and came back able to see.
8 The neighbors and those who had seen him before as a beggar began to ask, “Is this not the man who used to sit and beg?” 9 Some were saying, “It is he.” Others were saying, “No, but it is someone like him.” He kept saying, “I am the man.” 10 But they kept asking him, “Then how were your eyes opened?” 11 He answered, “The man called Jesus made mud, spread it on my eyes, and said to me, ‘Go to Siloam and wash.’ Then I went and washed and received my sight.” 12 They said to him, “Where is he?” He said, “I do not know.”
13 They brought to the Pharisees the man who had formerly been blind. 14 Now it was a sabbath day when Jesus made the mud and opened his eyes. 15 Then the Pharisees also began to ask him how he had received his sight. He said to them, “He put mud on my eyes. Then I washed, and now I see.” 16 Some of the Pharisees said, “This man is not from God, for he does not observe the sabbath.” But others said, “How can a man who is a sinner perform such signs?” And they were divided. 17 So they said again to the blind man, “What do you say about him? It was your eyes he opened.” He said, “He is a prophet.”
18 The Pharisees did not believe that he had been blind and had received his sight until they called his parents…. 19 and asked them, “Is this your son, who you say was born blind? How then does he now see?” 20 His parents answered, “We know that this is our son, and that he was born blind; 21 but we do not know how it is that now he sees, nor do we know who opened his eyes. Ask him; he is of age. He will speak for himself.” 22 His parents said this because they were afraid of the Pharisees; for they had already agreed that anyone who confessed Jesus[c] to be the Messiah[d] would be put out of the synagogue. 23 Therefore his parents said, “He is of age; ask him.”
24 So for the second time the Pharisees called the man who had been blind, and they said to him, “Give glory to God! We know that this man Jesus is a sinner.” 25 The man answered, “I do not know whether he is a sinner. One thing I do know, that though I was blind, now I see.” 26 They said to him, “What did he do to you? How did he open your eyes?” 27 He answered them, “I have told you already, and you would not listen. Why do you want to hear it again? Do you also want to become his disciples?” 28 Then they reviled him, saying, “You are his disciple, but we are disciples of Moses. 29 We know that God has spoken to Moses, but as for this man, we do not know where he comes from.” 30 The formerly blind man answered, “Here is an astonishing thing! You do not know where he comes from, and yet he opened my eyes. 31 We know that God does not listen to sinners, but he does listen to one who worships him and obeys his will. 32 Never since the world began has it been heard that anyone opened the eyes of a person born blind. 33 If this man were not from God, he could do nothing.” 34 They answered him, “You were born entirely in sins, and are you trying to teach us?” And they drove him out.
35 Jesus heard that they had driven him out, and when he found him, he said, “Do you believe in the Son of Man?”[e] 36 He answered, “And who is he, sir?[f] Tell me, so that I may believe in him.” 37 Jesus said to him, “You have seen him, and the one speaking with you is he.” 38 He said, “Lord,[g] I believe.” And he worshiped him. 39 Jesus said, “I came into this world for judgment so that those who do not see may see, and those who do see may become blind.” 40 Some of the Pharisees near him heard this and said to him, “Surely we are not blind, are we?” 41 Jesus said to them, “If you were blind, you would not have sin. But now that you say, ‘We see,’ your sin remains.
“Not Seeing Is Contagious”
Apparently, while the man born blind is finding his way to the pool of Siloam to wash the mud off his eyes, Jesus walks away. He doesn’t appear to be a rabbi trying to recruit disciples. He doesn’t wait for the guy to return with accolades, begging to follow. Jesus clearly isn’t a politician looking for votes. He doesn’t try to convince this man that the Pharisees in charge of the local synagogue have made a mess of things and now he has come to clean it up. Jesus just walks away, with mud and spit drying on his own hands. (And I’m thinking, somebody get that man some hand sanitizer!)
After Jesus departs the scene confusion and fear spread like a contagion as various groups of people try to make sense of what they are seeing when they look at the now-seeing man born blind. And you don’t have to be a rocket scientist to figure out that with this story John, the gospel writer, is asking us to consider our own ways of seeing, and the possibility that have some blind spots.
What we see, how we see things, is shaped by our previous and current experience—family, schooling, religious and spiritual communities, learned prejudice, life-giving values, deep fears, the news channels we watch, the books we read… These things can help us see reality more clearly, or fit us with blinders that are so comfortable we don’t even know we’re wearing them. The disciples and the Pharisees see the man born blind through the lens of their religious tradition and judge that his not seeing is caused by some sin that he or his parents committed. Jesus sees him as a person is destined to show forth the glory, the beauty, the loveliness and love of the Creator. The Pharisees see Jesus as a sinner because he heals this man, he works on the sabbath. We see things as we see things. And we screen out things that don’t quite fit the picture we have because there is comfort in not having to re-arrange our religious, psychological, and emotional furniture too drastically.
But it is inevitable that we see and experience things that contradict our perception of the world and of ourselves in it. For the folks in this little village it is the “sinful” blind man seeing for the first time the blue of the sky, the green of the trees, and the tender, frightened faces of his parents. The event sparks their wonder and fear. This experience cannot fit within their existing frames. Miracle is beyond their imagining. It raises questions about God, the man who now sees, and the man who walked away with mud on his hands.
For all of us right now it is the coronavirus which its far-reaching tendrils that is interrupting our lives and our perceptions of the world. Something microscopic and powerful has stripped away the illusion of our being in control. Our plans, our calendars, our standard ways of projecting certainty into our futures—none of this alters the reality that what happens tomorrow or next month or next year are never really in our control. This is what is most unsettling. We’ve had the rug pulled out from under us and we would like to know when will things return to normal. And I am newly mindful that the illusion of control belongs especially to those of us who have ample material resources, who live with social power and privilege, those of us who have the means to possess more than we need on a daily basis, and can easily grab more for ourselves in a crisis.
It is a truism that this contagion is no respecter of persons. In some ways it is a great equalizer. Rich or poor, male or female, gay or straight, from this nation or that, from this racial group or that, we are all susceptible, and even if we do not become physically ill, the impacts of this virus are touching all of us. But its effects on those who struggle to make ends meet every single day, who work one or more low-paying jobs to feed their children, whose paychecks have disappeared—the impacts on them are immediately devastating.
Things that we might be mostly blind to in ordinary times are being revealed now. This challenging time invites us to see more deeply and to not stop seeing when our lives are more “normal” again. We’re invited to ask more and better questions about our economic system, our healthcare arrangements, our policies and politics, about the values we espouse as individuals and as a nation, and the values we actually live by. Several people this week have expressed to me the hope, the very real possibility that we can be permanently changed by this dramatic interruption in our lives. We can become wiser, more truthful about the full reality of our lives. We can learn new ways of being and connecting. We can use this time to pay attention to our own feelings and responses, to question our anxieties and fears, to embrace each new day as pure gift, in openness to its beauty and its struggle.
While the man born blind is finding his way to the pool of Siloam to wash the mud off his eyes, Jesus walks away. He interrupts the world of this little village and leaves the folk to wrestle with their ways of seeing the world, God, themselves, and their sense of what is possible. The man born blind knows what he knows. He could not see, but now he sees. He is changed because he submitted to what Jesus was doing. With his heightened sense of hearing, the sound of Jesus sucking in his cheeks to produce saliva would have been clear. Maybe he thought Jesus was going to spit on him as others had. With his heightened sense of smell, the odor of moist earth would have wafted into his nostrils. With his heightened sense of touch, Jesus’ fingers and the mud on his eyelids would have felt intense. He has no idea what Jesus is doing, but he receives it in all its weirdness then goes to the pool to wash just as Jesus tells him.
He submits. And what he submits to is the arrival of God’s new creation in his own body and self. This is what John wants us to see and to know. This is the good news in the midst of the chaos. In Jesus, God is in the process of making all things new. In the book of Genesis, the book of beginnings, God’s says, “let there be light, and there is light.” God gathers up the dust of the earth and forms the first human being. This beautiful, true story of a God who creates, and loves what God creates, and commits to what God creates, and works change and newness in creation—this is the deepest reality of the universe, the deepest reality of your life, the truth that you are invited to see and embrace when all of the illusions are shattered, when you feel anxious and afraid, when your strongest impulse is to protect yourself and save your own life. Receive the good news. God is making all things new.
When Jesus hears that the man who now sees has been driven out by his community, Jesus goes in search of him. Jesus returns to stand with him. And this is the heart and soul of God’s new creation. That we receive and embody the presence and love of the Creator. That we be with and for each other. That we submit to the change the Spirit of Jesus is working in the world and in us. That in the light of divine love we see our own blindness and welcome the cure, welcome our own re-creation, welcome the painful undoing of our illusions, welcome truthful seeing, and enter a life of risking ourselves and reaching out for the sake of the other. Re-creation is an evolutionary process that we can resist or co-operate with. Gradually the man who now sees comprehends more and more. Because he let a stranger smear mud on his eyes. And what he felt in that weird, fleeting moment was the touch of fingertips reaching his soul with the permanent energy of divine love and life that is making all things new and good.