What They Saw [Lent 4A]

The Rev. Jeremiah Williamson

John 9:1-41

What They Saw

As Jesus walked along, he saw a man blind from birth. The man, blind from birth, could see nothing. Obviously. He was blind, from birth.

The disciples, those walking along with Jesus, they saw sin. The man was blind, born blind; that, they observed was a bad thing. The man's blindness, in that ancient society, limited his future trajectory; he was born without hopes, dreams, or options. His life was planned for him by his lack of sight. The text tells us this when his neighbors say about him, “Is this not the man who used to sit and beg?” That was the life this man was born into. He could beg or he would die.

Budding theologians that they were, they were concerned with the “why”. Why was this man, this particular man, born blind? There must be a reason. They did not feel terribly comfortable placing the responsibility on God; working from their biblical perspective, they understood that God should not be credited with the evil that happens to people. And so appealing to their study of the Torah, they deduced someone must be to blame. They were left with two choices: the man or the parents.

So, we're often told there are no bad questions. And, of course, we also know that that statement is simply not true. There are bad questions. The disciples ask one in today's text. Simply put, “Did this man sin that he was born blind?” That is not a good question. In fact, it makes no sense. Despite the warnings of many a nun, this man was not struck blind for being a curious teen or looking at naughty pictures. He was born blind. To what extent a devious fetus is able to engage in sinful behavior, I do not know, but I will suggest that possibility seems quite remote.

The parents are of course a much more likely possibility. Although, I must say, I felt more comfortable with this suggestion before I had children. But, the disciples knew that both Exodus and Numbers tell us that while God is merciful and slow to anger, God also punishes children for the iniquities of their parents. So the disciples, when they saw this man, they saw sin.

The townies, those who walked by this man often – although probably at a distance because of the begging – they saw yet another poor beggar looking for a handout. I mean, they kinda saw him. Usually they tried not to make eye contact. He couldn't see the eye contact because of the blindness. But it was habit. Make eye contact and those beggars will hit you up for some cash. And so they diverted their eyes when they walked by this guy as he sat in his spot with his hands outstretched.

And so it is no surprise that there was some confusion that day that Jesus passed through. It might have been the blind beggar. Then again, it might have been someone like him – you know, one of the other beggars – human beings as background noise. So the neighbors, the locals, the townies, when they saw this man, they saw a beggar.

The man's parents, they saw a burden. He was not what they expected. I mean, you have to understand, things were different back then. There is support today – good schools, social programs, medical advances. Back then, everyone, Jesus' disciples included, assumed his condition was their fault, the parents' fault. They had wracked their brains for years. Sure, they messed up sometimes; everybody does. But there must have been something really bad, a truly heinous sin in their past, to cause their son to be born blind. They feared that possibility; they felt guilty about it; the religious leaders proved their liability with Holy Scripture. And now every time they looked at their son they felt this horrible mixture of shame and regret.

And so when he left home to live in the streets, when he left to become a beggar, they felt relieved, like a burden had been lifted. I mean, they probably wouldn't say that out loud, but it was true.

And just when they thoughts their problems were over, there's a knock on the door. The religious leaders had come to question these notorious sinners, the ones with the blind son. Not wanting to add to their own problems, they wash their hands of the situation and sell out their own child. His own parents, they saw a burden.

The Pharisees, the religious leaders, they saw in him everything they despised. At first he's a liar. They don't believe he was ever blind. Because people don't get healed on the Sabbath. They're not sure why, but probably this man was lying to drum up interest in this self-proclaimed traveling prophet. He was Jesus' lying hype man.

But the evidence the mounts and they realize, the man is telling the truth: he was blind and now he is not. They thought he was a liar, but actually he is something much worse: a blasphemer. And so they demand he give glory to God – not this sinner named Jesus.

His response to them proves to the religious leaders that, not only is this man a blasphemer, he is arrogant. He talks to them like they are equals. They are educated; he is ignorant. They are sophisticated; he is a street person. They know about God; they are experts. He doesn't know anything about God. He can't even read.

And he is a sinner, born of sinners. That's why he was born blind. That is why he spent his years begging on the street. He is below them – in every way. How dare he even talk to them about God. The Pharisees, the religious leaders, they saw in this man everything they despised.

Each and every person in this story saw something in this man who could see nothing. And none of it was good.

And then Jesus saw him. And Jesus looked at him like no one else ever had. Jesus saw a miracle. Not a miracle made of mud and saliva; not a miracle waiting to happen. Jesus looked at this man, born blind, living as a beggar, and saw a miracle. He, this man, was God's miracle, made in God's image, an instrument through which God could do amazing things. Jesus saw a miracle.

When Jesus looks at you, he sees the same thing.