After the darkness of John 8, in John 9 we have a story that’s light in every sense of the word.
John 9 is like a sequel to John 5. Instead of a man withered for 38 years, we have a man born blind who is healed by Jesus. Instead of a man sitting by the pool of Bethesda, we have a man sent to the pool of Siloam (and John even makes a winking reference to its name, which means “sent”). Instead of the work of lifting a mat, we have the work of mixing up a clay poultice. And that work is a problem to certain leaders, because, oops, it’s Sabbath again.
Yes, this story is ironic, like many in John, but it’s lighter than John’s usual irony. There’s no stones to be seen, only clay made with the spit of the Messiah.
Once again Isaiah said this first, that the Servant would act “as a covenant to the people, as a light to the Gentiles, to open blind eyes.” (Isaiah 42:7) If you hear The Messiah this Christmastime, if they sing Recitative 19, you will hear Handel set this to music: “Then shall the eyes of the blind be opened, and the ears of the deaf unstopped.” (Isaiah 35:5) Isaiah knew – but his later readers couldn’t follow him.
Those first-century Judaean readers of Isaiah, who just couldn’t see, were like the Ethiopian eunuch in Acts 8. Neither of these readers knew what to do with Isaiah’s writing about the Messiah. Believing in this Messiah isn’t easy, because it requires all of you. If it were mere mental assent, you could just click a box, sign off on terms and conditions, you wouldn’t need to read them all. “No, I’m not a robot,” job done.
Faith costs more than that because it’s worth more than that. But you can never pay what it really cost, so it’s always a gift, freely given and freely received. The cost is one of will, which we all have to give.
Jesus takes the first step, or the first stoop. Once again in this chapter, he bends down to the dirt, but this time he spits on it (“eptysen” in Greek, which sounds EXACTLY like the act), mixes it to clay like a potter making a jar, and applies this to the blind man’s eyes. Then Jesus sends him, alone, to the pool of Siloam to wash. And the man is changed – he sees.
The man’s neighbors don’t even recognize him and have a mini-debate with much lower stakes than the debate in the previous chapter, until the man clears his throat and interrupts, “I am he.” (John 9:9) These good neighbors take him to the authorities, the Pharisees, who debate among themselves, because once again the good news is a blind man sees, but the bad news is Someone did work on the Sabbath, again.
I see progress in this story, even if it’s short-lived. The leaders follow due process, of a sort, and an inquisition is better than a mob, isn’t it? I guess it is?
They ask the man who Jesus is, and he replies, “He is a prophet,” which is obviously the wrong answer. So they dismiss him as some kind of planted ringer like you might see at a shady faith-healing tent revival. They need a second opinion, so they haul in the man’s parents, who reply, “He’s an adult, ask him!”, while I imagine the man at the window waving his hand in the air, saying, “ask me!”
So they ask him again, and he gets a little salty, as I paraphrase 9:24-34 in modern terms:
LEADERS: “Remember you’re under oath. We know Jesus pulled a trick here.”
MAN: “I don’t know if he ever pulled a trick. I just know that I was blind, but now I see.”
LEADERS: “How did he do this? What’s his trick?”
MAN: “I told you. If you want to know, listen to him and follow him. Do you want to sign up as his disciples then? I can help you find him.”
LEADERS: “We are disciples of Moses! We don’t even know where this guy is from.”
MAN: “Well, this is just amazing. You don’t know where he’s from, yet he opened my eyes. God doesn’t listen to selfish liars, but God listened to this man Jesus. No prophet ever healed a man born blind, but Jesus did. It’s almost like God worked through him and not you. Weird.”
LEADERS: “You were born a mistake and you lecture us?” [They kick him out the door.]
That last line hurt, and as usual, Jesus finds the hurting. When Jesus seeks him out, the man doesn’t recognize Jesus with his new sight. (Was Jesus one of those people who looked different than he sounded? Or was the man being cagey? Or it is just that shocking to see after you’ve never seen before?) When the man knows it is Jesus, he bows down and worships him like the Magi in Matthew 2.
To this comedy of errors, Jesus has the punchline and the last word. I use two terms because he says it twice, first to the man, then to the Judean leaders. Remember back in John 5:27 when he says he will act as judge? He’s speaking judgment now.
To both the man and the leaders, he says that those without sight will see, and those who see will lose their sight. This is the ironic moral (or anti-moral?) of the story. As Jesus says it, he enacts it, and his word becomes reality. What was prophecy is happening and what is pronounced as judgment is like wisdom, justified by her children. But while there’s life, there’s hope. The story continues, because there’s still a chance that some may be saved. Jesus will keep on confronting the powerful, as he continues his discourse in Chapter 10, to be continued tomorrow.
