When We Can't See for Looking
As he went on his way Jesus saw a man who had been blind from birth. His disciples asked him, ‘Rabbi, why was this man born blind? Who sinned, this man or his parents?’ ‘It is not that he or his parents sinned,’ Jesus answered; ‘he was born blind so that God’s power might be displayed in curing him. While daylight lasts we must carry on the work of him who sent me; night is coming, when no one can work. While I am in the world I am the light of the world.’
With these words he spat on the ground and made a paste with the spittle; he spread it on the man’s eyes, and said to him, ‘Go and wash in the pool of Siloam.’ (The name means ‘Sent’.) The man went off and washed, and came back able to see.
His neighbours and those who were accustomed to see him begging said, ‘Is not this the man who used to sit and beg?’ Some said, ‘Yes, it is.’ Others said, ‘No, but it is someone like him.’ He himself said, ‘I am the man.’ They asked him, ‘How were your eyes opened?’ He replied, ‘The man called Jesus made a paste and smeared my eyes with it, and told me to go to Siloam and wash. So I went and washed, and found I could see.’ ‘Where is he?’ they asked. ‘I do not know,’ he said.
The man who had been blind was brought before the Pharisees. As it was a sabbath day when Jesus made the paste and opened his eyes, the Pharisees too asked him how he had gained his sight. The man told them, ‘He spread a paste on my eyes; then I washed, and now I can see.’ Some of the Pharisees said, ‘This man cannot be from God; he does not keep the sabbath.’ Others said, ‘How could such signs come from a sinful man?’ So they took different sides. Then they continued to question him: ‘What have you to say about him? It was your eyes he opened.’ He answered, ‘He is a prophet.’
The Jews would not believe that the man had been blind and had gained his sight, until they had summoned his parents and questioned them: ‘Is this your son? Do you say that he was born blind? How is it that he can see now?’ The parents replied, ‘We know that he is our son, and that he was born blind. But how it is that he can now see, or who opened his eyes, we do not know. Ask him; he is of age; let him speak for himself.’ His parents gave this answer because they were afraid of the Jews; for the Jewish authorities had already agreed that anyone who acknowledged Jesus as Messiah should be banned from the synagogue. That is why the parents said, ‘He is of age; ask him.’
So for the second time they summoned the man who had been blind, and said, ‘Speak the truth before God. We know that this man is a sinner.’ ‘Whether or not he is a sinner, I do not know,’ the man replied. ‘All I know is this: I was blind and now I can see.’ ‘What did he do to you?’ they asked. ‘How did he open your eyes?’ ‘I have told you already,’ he retorted, ‘but you took no notice. Why do you want to hear it again? Do you also want to become his disciples?’ Then they became abusive. ‘You are that man’s disciple,’ they said, ‘but we are disciples of Moses. We know that God spoke to Moses, but as for this man, we do not know where he comes from.’
The man replied, ‘How extraordinary! Here is a man who has opened my eyes, yet you do not know where he comes from! We know that God does not listen to sinners; he listens to anyone who is devout and obeys his will. To open the eyes of a man born blind–that is unheard of since time began. If this man was not from God he could do nothing.’ ‘Who are you to lecture us?’ they retorted. ‘You were born and bred in sin.’ Then they turned him out.
Hearing that they had turned him out, Jesus found him and asked, ‘Have you faith in the Son of Man?’ The man answered, ‘Tell me who he is, sir, that I may put my faith in him.’ ‘You have seen him,’ said Jesus; ‘indeed, it is he who is speaking to you.’ ‘Lord, I believe,’ he said, and fell on his knees before him.
Jesus said, ‘It is for judgement that I have come into this world–to give sight to the sightless and to make blind those who see.’ Some Pharisees who were present asked, ‘Do you mean that we are blind?’ ‘If you were blind,’ said Jesus, ‘you would not be guilty, but because you claim to see, your guilt remains.
The prophets remind us again and again that God is at work, always doing new things in our midst. They tell us that God is unpredictable, like wind or fire. God might be a still, small voice in the night or a raging storm. God tends to the birth of the tiniest moth, but is also the one whose touch causes the mountains to melt. Our calling is to be watching carefully for what God is doing and, as best we can, to align our wills to that of God and participate in the holy work happening around us. In spite of everything we know about God's limitless possibilities, we so often fail to see what God is doing because it is not happening in the ways or places we would like God to appear.
The Pharisees are so often painted like stock villains. In the ways the stories are told, one can almost see them twirling moustaches and demanding tithes from impoverished families. John frequently casts them like nosey neighbours, scrutinizing the lives of Judeans and pointing out all of the missteps, great and small. They are perpetually suspicious about what Jesus is doing and in league with the leaders who will, soon, participate in Jesus' execution.
The Pharisees are frequently, though not exclusively, the ones questioning Jesus about his teaching and practice, it is true. But the motivation is most often a desire to see God worshipped appropriately and for the people of Israel to live in the best possible relationship with God. When they believe Jesus' words and actions are not in aid of these goals, they are critical of him. That they are so often the foil to Jesus' teaching suggests that Jesus and the Pharisees have a great deal in common with one another, rather than being theological opposites. We so often have the greatest conflicts with those who are most similar to us; the more we share, the higher the stakes.
In today's Gospel passage, we see an occasion when some of the Pharisees are less concerned with the miraculous healing Jesus has done than they are with the fact that he may have breached the rules about work on the Sabbath. To us, who know the whole story, those concerned with rules over results seem foolish and short-sighted. However, there may be good reason to be concerned about Sabbath-keeping beyond simple legalism.
We must remember that Judea is an occupied territory with an authoritarian government looming over it. At the moment, the Romans are benevolent occupiers. Due to Judea's assistance in previous wars and the impressive age of their culture, the Romans have allowed the Judeans to keep the skeleton of their government, albeit with Roman-chosen functionaries installed. They have also permitted the Judeans to maintain their religious practices, rather than conform to Roman civic religion.
Of course, these conditions only persist at the pleasure of the occupying power. Circumstances could change at any moment. Perhaps the Romans would think twice about their kindness to Judea if it seemed to foster rabble-rousers and trouble-makers. Prophets calling out loudly in public for new ways of living that emphasize a radical shift in power: casting down tyrants, lifting up the low, feeding the hungry, and so on. Baptizing people in the Jordan, preaching new teachings about God, miraculous healings, and even on the Sabbath!
These are the sorts of behaviours that may well draw unwelcome Roman attention and cause a change in the established order of things. If the Romans force the Judeans to conform to Roman religion and outlaw visits to the Temple—or worse, tear it down—how will God's chosen people live in right relationship with their Lord? The Pharisees are watching Jesus and his followers carefully not only because they may seem to be setting a poor example for their neighbours, but because, by the Pharisees' standards, they may be a real threat to the necessary structures of Judean society. No matter how many miracles God is working through them.
When they encounter the man born blind, the disciples are watching carefully for God's work. They are full of questions for Jesus about why the man is blind and how such things come to be. They want to understand what God is doing here, but they approach the situation with their own assumptions firmly fixed in place.
The disciples understand the man's blindness as related to divine intervention. They can only imagine blindness as the result of sin. It must be some sort of divine punishment for past transgressions. They can imagine more than one way this could come about, but they all fit this model. They are half-way to correct.
The man's blindness is related to God's intervention, but it is not about punishment for sin. It is about an opportunity to reveal God's power and glory to the disciples and the community in which the man lives. God is working in their midst in ways that they do not expect. Jesus is challenging their assumptions and expectations about how God works and what God can or will do.
John spills much ink showing us the lengths to which people will go to deny God's appearance in their midst simply because it does not conform to their expectations. It couldn't be God's healing because it broke the Sabbath rest. It couldn't be God's healing because they haven't established Jesus as equal in stature to Moses. Even the healed man's testimony and worship are not enough because he was born blind; he must have been born and bred in sin to be born in such a state.
What has happened before their own eyes could not be of God because it does not fit in the box they have constructed for God.
The commitment to existing assumptions and expectations in this story seems laughable in the face of a miracle happening right there, in broad daylight. How could anyone deny that such healing is from God? The disciples, the Pharisees, even the man's own parents seem not to be able to see what has happened before them or to understand just who Jesus is. The unexpected twist of the man who has only just seen for the first time being the one who sees the truth is what John drives home. This man is interested in what God is doing, not whether God is doing it according to his plan.
We might imagine ourselves unlike the crowd or the disciples or the Pharisees in this story. But are we so different? We all—individuals, congregations, and whole churches alike—have ways in which we imagine God behaving. They are comfortable and familiar pathways. And many of them are accurate and true! God does meet us in prayer, scripture, and sacrament. God does call people to life in Christ and ministry in his name. God does heal, soften hearts, and transform lives. All true.
But God also works in ways that we do not expect. That do not conform to our systems or expectations. How many times have we realized after the fact that, even though we were watching carefully, we missed what God was doing? We were so sure that we knew when and how and where God would appear that we failed to see where God was already visibly working. Like someone focused intently on the view through a telescope, we missed what was happening right in front of us.
A couple of weeks ago, I preached about the gift of holy imagination. The spark of curiosity that leads us to seek to know more about God. It is a beautiful blessing we have been given. But, like any gift, we can sometimes use it to less than its best advantage. Our imagining should lead us to the broadest horizons, seeking God wherever there are signs of divine intervention. We should not think that God is limited by our ideas, constrained by the structures and patterns that are familiar and comfortable to us.
With God, all things are possible. When we truly seek God where God wills to be found, it is there that we will come to know the breadth and depth of God's glory and love. It is there that we will see God doing more than we could possibly ask or imagine.
