Untitled Sermon (3)
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9:39–41. The reversal of physical and spiritual blindness is a motif in the prophets (e.g., Is 42:16–19; Jer 5:21); the religious authorities, who are sure they are not spiritually blind, are the blindest of all.
Whenever we read the eighth chapter of John we should keep in mind that scene with the great charred torches. It was an unforgettable dramatization of the difference between the realms of light and darkness. And as we come to the ninth chapter, we see that the theme is sustained. The two chapters are meant to be read together because as Christ now leaves the temple, it is a conscious portrayal of what happens when light goes out into the world. As the chapter opens, our Lord immediately encounters one who has never known light—a man blind from birth—and miraculously gives him sight and light.
This miracle in John 9 is notable because Jesus had just proclaimed Himself as “the Light of the world” (8:12).
THIS is the only miracle in the gospels in which the sufferer is said to have been afflicted from his birth.
Helen Keller: “Gradually I got used to the silence and darkness that surrounded me and forgot that it had ever been different until she came—my teacher—who set my spirit free.”
In Acts, we twice hear of people who had been helpless from their birth (the lame man at the Beautiful Gate of the Temple in Acts 3:2, and the cripple at Lystra in Acts 14:8), but this is the only man in the gospel story who had been so afflicted. He must have been a well-known character, for the disciples knew all about him.
Darkness was all the beggar had ever known. He could not conceive of blue, green, red, orange. A million glories of nature were hidden from him—the green of spring grass, the magic of a sunset. Perhaps there had been a time when, as a child, he had reached up and felt the softness of his mother’s face, and possibly even a hot tear upon her cheek, but he did not know what she looked like. He was always dependent either on a friendly arm or his uncertain cane.
We have to forget images of seeing-eye dogs and Braille books. He sat at the roadside and begged. No employment, no prospects for marriage, no social honor. He was at the bottom of the social ladder. His future was bleak and he knew it. He was like the paralytic of chapter 5, only worse. This man’s world had foreclosed on him. There was no social net to catch people like this.
This hopelessness and darkness provide us with a potent image because John describes men and women without Christ to be in a crisis no less desperate. In 8:12 and 12:35 Jesus refers to those who “walk in darkness,” and this is precisely the condition of the blind. They stumble and get lost. Jesus lifts this image above the commonplace in order to make it a spiritual metaphor for the condition of the world that he has come to remedy.
The glory of this man’s healing stands in stark contrast with the desperation of his condition. Jesus did not simply give him sight; he gave him life. Some features of the story bear reflection. (1) Healing was important to Jesus’ work, and likewise it should be important in the church’s work today. I do not want to spiritualize this story utterly, making the spiritual renewal of the blind man the only important thing. Jesus also recognized that making the blind man whole was a gesture of his love for the man. Unfortunately many of us are predisposed not to believe in healing such as this.
For instance, the blind man confesses twice that he does not “know,” that he is ignorant (9:12, 25). Even when he meets Jesus in the end, he betrays how little he understands (9:36). Even his parents confess their ignorance (9:21). Yet at the end of the story, this man gains not only physical sight but spiritual insight (9:34–38). The religious leaders, by contrast, possess physical sight, but in the end are told that they are blind (lacking spiritual wisdom) even though two times they proclaim to “know” (9:24, 29). They even make pronouncements betraying their confidence in their knowing (9:16). The message here is fascinating: What one claims about spiritual insight cannot always be trusted. Sometimes those with numerous academic degrees and positions of religious power know less truth than the simple religious inquirer.
This question reflects a view that all suffering was punishment for sin of one kind or another. There is a general connection between sin and suffering due to the fall. There is sometimes a direct connection between a particular sin of an individual and suffering (see 5:14), but not always (see Luke 13:2–5). Congenital afflictions raise the problem of sin and suffering in a particularly sharp fashion. The disciples’ question implied that congenital afflictions were punishments (1) for sins of unborn children committed either in their mothers’ wombs or by their pre-existent souls; (2) visited upon children for the sins of their parents.
Verses 3 and 4, punctuated as they are in the NIV (and most other English versions and modern Greek texts), present an unattractive theodicy. They imply that God allowed the man to be born blind so that many years later God’s power could be shown in the restoration of his sight. However, it is not necessary to read the text in this way. Two things need to be noted. First, the words ‘this happened’ have been added by the NIV translators and there are no corresponding words in the Greek text. Second, early Greek manuscripts of the NT were not punctuated; later editors added the punctuation. Rendered literally and without punctuation 9:3–4 would read, ‘Jesus replied neither this man sinned nor his parents but so that the works of God may be revealed in him it is necessary for us to work the works of him who sent me while it is day night is coming when no-one is able to work.’
It is possible to punctuate this so as to provide the following translation: ‘Jesus replied, “Neither this man sinned nor his parents. But so that the works of God may be revealed in him it is necessary for us to work the works of him who sent me while it is day; night is coming when no-one is able to work.” ’ Punctuated in this way, the text implies not that the man was born blind so that the works of God may be revealed in him, but that Jesus had to carry out the work of God while it was day so that God’s work might be revealed in the life of the man born blind.
Their query, “Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blinds” was based on a principle stated in the law: “He [God] does not leave the guilty unpunished; he punishes the children and their children for the sin of the fathers to the third and fourth generation” (Exod 34:7). They construed this to mean that if a person suffered from any ailment, it must have been because his parents or grandparents had committed some sin against God (cf. Exod 20:5).
The purpose clause now explains that Jesus must work so that God’s work may be displayed in this man’s life. God had not made the man blind in order to show his glory; rather, God has sent Jesus to do works of healing in order to show his glory.
Jesus performed more miracles related to giving sight to the blind than any other miracle. Such an activity was forecast in prophecy as a messianic act (Isa 29:18; 35:5; 42:7). Jesus came to clear the sight of human beings who had become blinded to the things of God.
9:2. Jewish teachers believed that suffering, including blindness, was often due to sin; one could suffer for one’s parents’ sins or even for a sin committed by mother or fetus during the pregnancy.
Instead of asking, “Why did this happen to me? Who’s to blame?” we begin to ask, “Where is God in this situation? What is he up to? How may his glory ultimately shine through this?” Grace leads us to ask more vertical questions and fewer horizontal ones. Only the gospel of eternal purposes and hope beyond this world can enable us to accept suffering as a normal part of the Christian life. For the ultimate suffering, condemnation, and separation from the Father in hell has been undergone by Jesus in our place. All current suffering in the lives of those who are in Christ can therefore only be by the loving hand of a caring Father, who is training us to walk with him—and enabling others touched by our lives to do so also, as they walk through this broken world with us.
One other thing which should be pointed out about the miracle recorded in chap. 9 is its messianic significance. In the OT it is God himself who is associated with the giving of sight to the blind (Exod 4:11, Ps 146:8). In a number of passages in Isa (29:18, 35:5, 42:7) it is considered to be a messianic activity.
As the Light of the world Jesus gives people salvation (cf. 8:12). After His death, His disciples would be His lights (cf. Matt. 5:14; Eph. 5:8–14), bringing Christ to others.
Instead the problem existed so that … God could display His glory in the midst of seeming tragedy (cf. Ex. 4:11; 2 Cor. 12:9).
He is the true light that surpasses anything available in the temple; he is a messenger from God, bearing God’s word for the world and giving life to all who believe.
The man thus becomes a model of the ideal convert (and no doubt should be contrasted with the healed man in chapter 5): He is healed by Jesus, he is persecuted, he chooses to believe in Jesus, he becomes a disciple.
Jesus then tells the man to go and wash in the Pool of Siloam (9:7). John indicates in a parenthesis that “Siloam” means “sent” (which it does in Hebrew).
In essence Jesus was saying, “I won’t be involved in such a profitless discussion. Suffice it to say neither of them sinned. This man is blind so the power of God can be shown forth.” Then he concluded:
“As long as it is day, we must do 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.” (vv. 4–5)
(2) The name of the pool bears symbolic importance for Jesus. More than twenty times in this Gospel, Jesus is described as the one who has been “sent” by God (e.g., 4:34; 5:23, 37; 7:28; 8:26; 12:44; 14:24). In other words, the blind man is being told to go wash in the place called “sent,” by the One who was “sent” by God. Jesus, then, is the source of his healing, not the pool. The man is obedient (9:7) and is healed. John reports no fanfare or disturbance.
he was still blind when he left Jesus and went to the pool to wash. So when his neighbours asked him, Where is this man?, he could only respond, I don’t know. He would not have known Jesus if he saw him!
Jesus’ visit to Jerusalem now at the Feast of Tabernacles (John 7–9) follows this same pattern. Tabernacles was the third of three pilgrimage feasts anchored in the agricultural cycle of Judaism. The first was Passover, which recognized the beginning of the grain harvest in spring. Then came Pentecost, seven weeks later, celebrating the end of the grain harvest. The last one was Tabernacles (also called Booths or Ingathering), which celebrated the autumn harvest of tree and vine. Since the crop in autumn had to be protected, Israelite farmers built temporary shelters in the fields (Heb. sukkoth, hut, booth). Theologically this reminded them of the temporary shelters of the desert wandering; thus the feast was set not simply to praise God for the harvest, but to study the desert period and its meaning (Lev. 23; Deut. 16).
Tabernacles coincided with the autumn equinox, when day and night are equal length and from which point on the calendar the nights lengthen and the days become shorter. Jewish ritual practice recognized this “dying of the sun” and incorporated into the festival ceremonies of light to hallmark the passing of the season. Jesus knows this and in the discourse of this feast will exploit images of light to make his point (John 8:12).
In addition, the late autumn was a period of drought in Israel. Strong, drenching rains had not been seen since spring. Cisterns were low. Springs were becoming weak. The hills were barren and parched. The ground could not be renewed without water. Therefore Tabernacles incorporated another set of symbols, depicting a prayer for water to replenish the country agriculturally as well as refresh the land spiritually. In fact, rainfall during Tabernacles was a sign of strong blessing from God in the coming season. Jesus likewise knows these images and in the present chapter exploits their themes as well (7:37–39).
To sum up, it is almost impossible to interpret John 7 without some detailed acquaintance with the Jewish Feast of Tabernacles and how it was celebrated in Jerusalem in the first century. It was an old festival of agriculture from the ancient Near East that adopted the Israelite story of redemption. To this were added Jewish intertestamental motifs of water and light, and even these the rabbis interpreted spiritually. Tabernacles then blended a variety of images from agriculture (harvest), climate (sun and rain), and theological history (desert wandering). Jesus makes these motifs serve his purposes as he stands in the feast and makes his identity known. John 7 even uses the sequence of the feast as its literary structure:
• The beginning of the Feast (7:1–13)
• The middle of the Feast (7:14–24)
• The last, great day of the Feast (7:37–52)
EACH DAY OF the feast witnessed a water ceremony in which a procession of priests descended to the south border of the city to the Gihon Spring (which flowed into the Pool of Siloam). There a priest filled a golden pitcher as a choir chanted Isaiah 12:3: “With joy you will draw water from the wells of salvation.” The water was then carried back up the hill to the “Water Gate,” followed by crowds carrying a lulab in the right hand (tree branches reminiscent of the desert booths) and an ethrog in the left hand (citrus branches reminiscent of the harvest). The crowd would shake these and sing Psalms 113–118. When the procession arrived at the temple, the priest would climb the altar steps and pour the water onto the altar while the crowd circled him and continued singing. On the seventh day of the festival, this procession took place seven times.
On this final day of celebration, Jesus steps into public view and makes his most stunning pronouncement of the feast. As seven water processions are climbing the steep hill of south Jerusalem, he proclaims, “If anyone is thirsty, let him come to me and drink.” This announcement parallels symbolically what Jesus did in John 6 at Passover. Just as earthly bread led to memories of heavenly bread (manna), which concluded with Jesus offering himself as the bread of life (6:35), so now Jesus is doing the same. Needed rainfall and water ceremonies lead to memories of miraculous desert water, water given from heaven, which concludes with Jesus’ offering himself as the source of the water of life.
On this final day Jesus has just made a tremendously important announcement about himself (7:37–39): He is the source of the living water that Tabernacles promises through its symbolic rituals. Just as Jesus had done on Sabbath (ch. 5) and Passover (ch. 6), so here he takes up images from the Jewish celebration and uses them in order to make clearer his identity as the Messiah and God’s Son.
The Mishnah chapter on Tabernacles (Sukkah) provides lavish descriptions of both the water and light ceremonies and explains that whoever has not seen these things has never seen a wonder in his or her life! Four large stands each held four golden bowls; these were placed in the heavily-used Court of the Women. These sixteen golden bowls (reached by ladders) were filled with oil and used the worn undergarments of the priests for wicks (m. Sukkah 5). When they were lit at night (so the rabbis said), all Jerusalem was illumined. In a world that did not have public lighting after dusk, this light shining from Jerusalem’s yellow limestone walls must have been spectacular. Choirs of Levites would sing during the lighting while “men of piety and good works” danced in the streets, carrying torches and singing hymns.
Imagine the scene! In the very court where the lighting ceremony takes place, Jesus stands beneath sixteen lit bowls of oil and says that he is not only the true light of Jerusalem, but of the whole world!
The spiritual use of “light” was common throughout the ancient world. Parallels are available from Judaism, the Old Testament, Qumran, Hellenistic religions, and later gnostic writings. However, Jesus’ use here—and the entire scene we have just built—is thoroughly Jewish. Jesus is referring to the countless times that God’s saving work in the world is described as “light.” John 1:5 reflects this tradition, “The light shines in the darkness, but the darkness has not overcome it” (cf. NIV note). God’s first creation was light (Gen. 1:3). God even led the Israelites in the desert with light (Ex. 13:21–22; Ps. 78:14), and they were taught to sing, “The LORD is my light and my salvation—whom shall I fear?” (Ps. 27:1). God’s wisdom given to the world is thus a light that illumines his people (Prov. 8:22). Hence, Psalm 119:105: “Your word is a lamp to my feet and a light for my path.” In rabbinic Judaism, this light was defined further as God’s Word (Torah), which guides and provides wisdom through study.
Titles for Jesus spill over each other, creating a catalogue for my study: Rabbi (9:2), Jesus (9:3), the light of the world (9:5), Sent (9:7), from God (9:16), prophet (9:17), Christ (9:22), Son of Man (9:35), Lord (9:38). Everything is here except the title Son of God (cf. 3:18; 5:25; also 10:36), and one can argue that this theme is presupposed in 9:16 and 33 (to be “from God” is to be God’s authoritative emissary or Son).
The use of “we” shows that he included his disciples in his ministry. They also would pass through perils and opposition, but they would have the support of the Father who had sent him. “I am the light of the world” is a repetition of Jn 8:12, but it is not superfluous. The healing of the blind man illustrates the positive and practical application of the principle. Jesus dealt not only in ideas but also in the application of them.
The Pool of Siloam was located at the southern end of the city, probably a considerable distance from the place where the blind man was. The walk would call for some exertion. Certainly the man would not want to continue sitting by the roadside with mud smeared over his eyes. If his lifelong affliction had tended to make him apathetic, he now had at least one motive for obeying what must have seemed a foolish command. How could washing in a public pool restore the sight he never had? The trip the man made must have been a venture of faith. Jesus had not even told him that he would be healed but had merely commanded him to wash. If the man had overheard Jesus’ conversation with the disciples, he would have expected something to happen. Yet so extraordinary a miracle as giving sight to a man born blind would have seemed impossible.
The effects of the miracle are described vividly by the responses of four groups or individuals: (1) the neighbors, (2) the Pharisees, (3) the parents, and (4) the man himself. The neighbors and acquaintances knew very well the man they had supported by their charity. To see him walking with normal sight was so incredible that they thought it must be a case of mistaken identity. He quickly settled the dispute by avowing that he was the man they had known.
The key word in 9:12–31 is “know”: everyone claims repeatedly what they know and do not know. The Pharisees, who supposedly know the law, turn out to know nothing; whereas the healed man, who knows only Jesus, has had an experience with God that his more scholarly interrogators cannot refute.
Jesus’ miracles are reminders of the day when there was no brokenness (Eden) and of the firstfruits of the day when all brokenness will be removed forever (the new heaven and new earth; Rev. 21:1). Miracles are not primarily for our comfort but for God’s glory—for declaring the power present in and the praise due to the person and work of Jesus.
THE SYNOPTICS PROVIDE numerous examples of Jesus healing blind people. In some respects this sort of miracle was a hallmark of his ministry (Matt. 11:5; Luke 4:17; 7:22). Jesus healed the blind man Bartimaeus in Jericho (Mark 10:46–52; Luke 18:35–43), two blind men in Galilee (Matt. 9:27–31), a blind man without speech elsewhere (possibly in Capernaum; Matt. 12:22–23), a blind man in Bethsaida (Mark 8:22–26), and one more in Jerusalem following his cleansing of the temple (Matt. 21:14)
There was a remarkable setting for this conflict—the Feast of the Tabernacles. The final night has taken place, and on that night, as on preceding nights, four huge torches (as high as the walls of the temple) were ignited. The holy men and the elders of Israel danced the night away in front of those flames. It was before the extinguished torches that Jesus announced, “I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will never walk in darkness, but will have the light of life” (8:12).The meaning was clear—he was the light, and his enemies were in spiritual darkness. Those were fighting words. And the Lord didn’t stop there but went on to tell them they were from below, but he was from above. And as if that were not enough, our Lord also told them that though they prided themselves on being children of Abraham, nothing substantive in their lives validated their spiritual heritage. As a matter of fact, they were serving the devil. When Jesus also stated (8:58), “Before Abraham was born, I am!” (obviously identifying himself as Jehovah), they attempted to stone him.
His witness was clear, and he refused to deny what he knew for certain: I was blind, but now I see! They asked him to go over the story again, hoping to find some contradiction in the man’s report.
For Jesus, it was true that he had to press on with God’s work in the day, for the night of the cross lay close ahead. But it is true for everyone. We are given only so much time. Whatever we are to do must be done within it.
It was called Siloam, which, it was said, meant sent, because the water in it had been sent through the conduit into the city. Jesus sent this man to wash in this pool; and the man washed and saw.
That Jesus sent the blind man to the Pool of Siloam and that healing was either effected or revealed at that point calls to mind the healing of Naaman in the Jordan (cf. 2 Kgs 5:10, 13–14). The implication in both stories seems to be that the healer demanded the man in need to obey the healer’s instructions.
The mention of the works of God leads to a further statement on work both in terms of reaffirming the personal mission of Jesus (“Him Who Sent Me”) and the role of Jesus with his followers (“We Must Do the Work,” 9:4). The emphasis in this verse clearly falls on the earthly work of Jesus (“as long as it is day,” 9:5).
The symbols of light and darkness, as noted at 1:4–5 and at 8:12, were ancient universal religious symbols used to represent themes of good and evil. The symbolic contrast between night and day would have been read by the early Christians in the postresurrection era as a reminder that after the “night” of the Lamb of God’s death (note especially 13:30), the daylight had reappeared with the resurrection of the Lord (note especially the contrast in 21:3–4). The night, however, was to be an extremely difficult time when the disciples and Jesus were separated in the trauma of the cross, and at that time all seemed to be lost—“when no one can work” (9:4).
They only see the law, but the healed man sees the Messiah, to whom the law points. In their hubris, the Pharisees can only boast about Moses; in his humility, the healed man only boasts about Jesus. The Pharisees charge the healed man with walking in the darkness of sin; but he sees the Light of the World—the Son who made the sun and everything else. The Pharisees excommunicated him from the life of the temple; Jesus made him a living stone (1 Pet. 2:4–12) in the only true and lasting temple—Christ himself (John 2:19–22; Rev. 21:22).
9:35–41 The whole of the Christian life consists of getting to know Jesus better and better. Jesus sought out the healed man in order to confirm his saving faith. Once again for John, the prevailing question in his Gospel, and in our lives, is, “Who is Jesus?” Jesus is the promised Son of Man (Dan. 7:13–14; Matt. 26:64), who one day will rule over all nations (Rev. 11:15). The gifts of God must lead us to the true and final gift of God: Jesus himself.
40. Jesus and the man born blind were not alone when Jesus told him he was the Son of Man, nor when he said he had come into the world to make the blind ‘see’ and to render ‘blind’ those who thought they saw. Hence some Pharisees who were with him heard him say this and asked, ‘What? Are we blind too?’ The form of their question in the original language is better translated, ‘We are not blind too, are we?’ They expected a negative answer.
41. Jesus’ response was not what they expected. Jesus said, ‘If you were blind, you would not be guilty of sin; but now that you claim you can see, your guilt remains.’ If they, like the man born blind, had been prepared to acknowledge ignorance, they, like him, would not be guilty of sin. Because they claimed to know and were unwilling to learn, their guilt remained. Their presumption of knowledge kept them from seeing the truth. They were like the one described in Proverbs 26:12:
Do you see a man wise in his own eyes?
There is more hope for a fool than for him.
The whole argument centers around the idea of need. Those who know they are blind are the ones to whom Jesus can give sight.
Some Pharisees who were with him heard him say this and asked, “What? Are we blind too?” Jesus said, “If you were blind, you would not be guilty of sin; but now that you claim you can see, your guilt remains.” (v. 41)
Those who go blind are the ones who do not realize their need. Those who receive sight are the ones who sense their darkness. The Pharisees thought they had it all together, that they had arrived. Through their acquaintance with the Law they knew they were not perfect, but they did not understand how deeply infected they were with sin. So they adopted the external appearance of having dealt with sin though actually they had never faced the darkness of their hearts. They were self-satisfied. They said, see” when in reality they were blind.
Remember Jesus’ parable about two men who went up to the temple to worship—a Pharisee and a tax-gatherer? The Pharisee went into the temple and prayed:
“God, I thank you that I am not like all other men—robbers, evildoers, adulterers—or even like this tax collector. I fast twice a week and give a tenth of all I get.” (Luke 18:11–12)
But the tax-gatherer, unwilling to even lift his eyes up to heaven, simply prayed, “God, have mercy on me, a sinner.” Self-satisfied people, the religious know-it alls, believe they see but are blind. For the soul that desires to remain in ignorance of sin, that prefers his own darkened understanding, there is no hope!
The self-satisfied attitude of “we see” is deadly. We comfort ourselves in our ability to “see” the sin of the world. “We see” that Jesus Christ is the answer. “We see” moral problems. “We see” the ethical answers. We focus on what we think we see but never really see into our hearts. It is so easy to focus on our piety or the changes in our habits and speech, but while we congratulate ourselves, we allow evil to spread unrestricted in our souls.
Charles Spurgeon said:
It is not our littleness that hinders Christ; but our bigness. It is not our weakness that hinders Christ; it is our strength. It is not our darkness that hinders Christ; it is our supposed light that holds back his hand.
The way of seeing is essentially a willingness to admit we are blind and naked and hungry. The blind beggar of John 9 is our example. He did not argue with Christ. He acknowledged his blind condition and need. He submitted himself to the hand of Christ and was obedient—and then came the miracle so that he saw with his eyes and with his heart. Remember, great partakers are great beggars. Those who are empty will be filled. The blind will see.