There’s an old story about a small country church that was trying to build a new sanctuary. They only had the basement completed when they ran out of money. So they put a roof on the basement and decided to worship there until they could build more. 

The problem was the basement was very dark. The young pastor decided he would have a congregational meeting for a vote to buy a chandelier for the basement ceiling. When the congregation met, he announced the need for the vote. One old-timer stood up in the back of the room and said, “I’m opposed to this particular decision for three reasons. First of all, we can’t order one ‘cause nobody knows how to spell it. Secondly, if we did get one, nobody would know how to play it. And thirdly, what we really need around here is more light.” 

Today’s story is about a man to whom the light came—in more ways than one. Jesus and his disciples happened upon a blind man one day. John tells us that the man was born blind. The first question of the disciples was this: “Who sinned? This man or his parents, that he was born blind?” The implication was that blindness—or any infirmity—is the victim’s own fault. Blindness is God’s punishment for sin. 

I recall some years ago I was asked to go and visit a woman who was not a member of the church. She was very ill with cancer. When I got to her home I found out that some members of her own church congregation had been there. They had told her that her cancer was because she had sinned in some way. What she really needed to do was to repent of her sin if she wanted to get well. I tried to undo some terrible theology that day. 

Jesus says very clearly in the text, “No one sinned. It’s no one’s fault. Do not connect sin with this man’s sightlessness.” In the Petersen version we read, “Jesus said, ‘You are asking the wrong question. You’re looking for someone to blame. There is no such cause-effect here. Look instead for what God can do.’”  (9:3) 

Then Jesus does a strange thing. He spits on the ground and makes some pasty mud. Then he puts the mud on the man’s eyelids. 

How do you suppose this man felt when that happened? How did he react? Was he patient and hopeful? Did he say something like, “Oh, yuck!”? Was he terrified? Was he passive? The truth is he probably did a little of all of these. A veritable torrent of feelings pulsed through him. 

There’s a very similar story in Mark’s gospel that reads this way: “They arrived at Bethsaida. Some people brought a sightless man and begged Jesus to give him a healing touch. Taking him by the hand, Jesus led him out of the village. He put spit in the man’s eyes and laid hands on him.” (8:22-23) 

Our story today says that the man washed his eyes in a pool, and he could see again.

 The “crowd response” to the man’s restored sight is very interesting. The response takes up the entire 9^th chapter of John’s gospel. First the townspeople are buzzing. “Isn’t this the man who was born blind?” “Well, it looks like him but I’m not really sure.” “Can it really be him?” Secondly, the Jewish leaders are upset. They say something to the effect, “Jesus cannot be from God. But we do know that the man can see again.” Thirdly, the Jewish leaders go to the man’s parents. They want to check things out.

“Is this your son who was blind and now he can see? How did it happen?”

“We don’t know how it happened. All we know is he can see.” 

Pushed by the Jewish leaders to form an opinion, the parents said, “Our son is of age. Ask him.” 

That’s how the conversation goes. It’s a great story. Here is a wonderful miracle that no one celebrates. The neighbors are doubtful. The parents are worried. And the leaders are threatened. Read it slowly. Read it thoughtfully. Go home today and read the entire 9^th chapter of John. It will probably make you smile. It might even make you laugh out loud. 

But what I really want you to look at today is the response of the formerly blind man to Jesus. He has a growing awareness of who Jesus is. His is a kind of inward journey. Perhaps you will see yourself somewhere on this journey. 

A VERY NICE MAN 

First of all, he says that Jesus is essentially a very nice man. (Verse 11) He is asked how he can see again, how this all happened, and he simply says, “The man called Jesus put mud in my eyes.” 

There’s no faith statement here. There’s no theology. Just a name. His answer is not bad, and it’s not wrong. Many of us start our journey to faith this way. We see Jesus as one fascinating human being. There’s no shame and no apology for this. We need to have a greater respect for Jesus’ humanity. 

When I was in seminary a very controversial book was published by Bishop John A. T. Robinson. You may remember it. It was called Honest to God. It was a radical book by a radical bishop. It shook up Christian theology for a long time. The chapter in the book on Jesus read simply, “The man for others.” 

The painter Rembrandt wanted to try to paint a portrait of Jesus. He found a young Jewish man about 30 years of age in his own home town, and he painted his portrait. But Rembrandt found he could not call the painting “Jesus.” So he simply called it, “Portrait of a young man.” 

The Italian movie director Paolini produced a movie called “The Gospel of Matthew.” Paolini was not a Christian. But he was fascinated by the humanity of Jesus. He sought to tell Jesus’ story on film. 

The man says, “I don’t know how it happened. All I know is this guy named Jesus put mud on my eye and now I see.” 

A PROPHET 

When the man who is healed is pushed a bit more, he suggests that maybe Jesus is a prophet. (Verse 17) He says something like, “Well, I guess he’s more than just a man. A prophet, perhaps?” What he’s essentially saying is, “I see something deeper, something richer than mere humanity here.” Those are not surprising words from the healed blind man. Even today, the Jewish people see Jesus as a prophet. The Islamic people see Jesus as a prophet. 

In my earliest young adult years, I probably thought of Jesus as a prophet myself. One of my favorite hymns has a rousing fourth verse that goes like this:

O young and fearless prophet, we need your presence here,

Amid our pride and glory to see your face appear,

Once more to hear your challenge above our noisy day,

Again to lead us forward along God’s holy way. (UM

   Hymnal #444)                                                         

To call Jesus a prophet is not a bad call by our formerly blind man. Jesus had a prophetic witness. We need that same voice today. 

I will be going to Pittsburgh Seminary this week to hear a series of lectures by a woman by the name of Nora Tisdale. She is a theologian and a preacher. The title of her lecture is “Prophetic Preaching: The Pastor’s Vocation”. The subtitle is,
Rekindling a Passion for Prophetic Preaching.” 

Someone sent me a sermon which was preached at a Southern Baptist Convention assembly in Texas in November of 2005. The writer titled his sermon, “Where have all the prophets gone?” The title was a takeoff on the Peter, Paul and Mary song of years ago, “Where have all the flowers gone?” The text he used was very interesting. It’s a place where Paul talks about some of the spiritual gifts to the church: “Now you are the body of Christ and individually members of it. And God has appointed in the church first apostles, second prophets, third teachers; then deeds of power, then gifts of healing, forms of assistance, forms of leadership, various kinds of tongues…” (I Cor. 12:27-28) 

Notice that “prophet” is #2 on the list. It’s pretty highly regarded. Where have all the prophets gone? Our newly seeing man says, “I guess you could say this Jesus was a prophet.” 

HE COMES FROM GOD 

The next step was something like this: the man said, “I suppose this man comes from God.” The text reads, “If this man didn’t come from God he wouldn’t be able to do anything.” (9:33) Do you see what John is doing here? John is taking us along a path. First it’s “the man Jesus…” then, “Maybe he’s a prophet…” then, “He’s more than that. He comes from God.” 

C. S. Lewis once said, “Miracles are aspects of the continuing creativity of God.” 

The man has more than his sight restored here. He has insight restored. He has insight given. He says, “You know, I think this man Jesus is from God.” The irony is he’s lecturing the Jewish leaders. They don’t appreciate it at all. They jump all over the man. “How dare you lecture us?” they cry. 

John says the Jewish leaders threw the man out onto the street. You can almost hear the crowd cheering. Here was a guy who dared to take on the big guns of Israel. 

He said, “I believe this man is from God.” But this is the next step, is it not? My first paper at seminary was called “God was in Christ.” It was a review of a book by that same name. Throughout my Christian journey and ministry that conviction has grown. Jesus is the fullest image of God we shall ever know. Jesus was consistently filled with God’s Spirit. Jesus teaches us what God wants us to know about God. Sometimes human categories are no longer adequate. Again I remind you of what the man said: “If this man didn’t come from God, he wouldn’t be able to do anything.” 

I had an antagonizing classmate while I was in college. He prided himself on being an atheist. His name was Nick. He would prod me. He would challenge me. He would question me. He never quite came to ridicule, but it was close. “How can you possibly believe in a God?” he would ask me. I resented Nick in those years. But I often wonder about him now. Is he still a smart aleck atheist? Or does he now see? I took him on; but Nick troubled me a lot. 

The formerly blind man takes on the power brokers of Israel. They throw the man out on his ear. He’s getting too close to the truth. 

Then John tells us that Jesus found out about his being thrown out of the temple, and he seeks the man out. Jesus says to the man, “Do you believe in the Son of Man?” The other responds, “Point him out to me, sir. I want to see him.” And Jesus says, “You are looking right at him.” And this patient, searching pilgrim makes his final discovery. 

MASTER AND LORD 

He finds Jesus to be his Master and his Lord. Now Jesus’ work with him is complete. His has been a journey of discovery out of darkness into light—out of blindness into seeing—out of shadows into the full light of day. He does not just say, “I can see again,” but he says in effect, “Jesus, I see you. I see who you are.” 

I have an image that hangs in my office. It’s been there for many years. It’s an abstract picture in black and white. Many of you have seen it. It looks a little like an ink blot test. But it really is the face of Jesus. 

Some people see it right away. For some people it will take time. I have sometimes said, “You are not a Christian until you see the face of Jesus in this picture.” It’s a little strange, because no one really knows what Jesus looked like. Yet there it is. It’s obvious when you see it. 

I have many stories about this picture. People have taken a long look. They’ve gone off and looked at it at an angle. They’ve turned it upside down. And all of a sudden they say, “Oh, I see it. I see it!” 

That’s what happened to this man. “Yes, Jesus is a man,” he says. “He touched my eyes with mud, and I can see. But he’s more than a man. I think he’s a prophet. But he’s more than a prophet. He comes from God. Oh my! He’s master and Lord of my life. I see him! I see him! I really see him!” 

This story where John is preaching to us is one of the best illustrations I know of how the Gospel writers proclaim truth. Here is one of Jesus’ miracle stories, but it has a rich, powerful message within it. 

Your own faith journey can be a gradual awakening to the power and presence of Jesus in your life. One day you are caught up in the flow of awareness. You move from seeing Jesus as a unique human being to seeing him as a prophet, to seeing the man of God, to seeing the Master of all of life. 

I remember one of my childhood preacher’s very careful statements in a sermon one Sunday. He leaned over the pulpit, looked us in the eye and said, “I do not care how many skills you master in this life, but I care very much who is the Master of your soul.” 

Amazing grace, how sweet the sound… I once was blind, but now I see… And I want to walk from today onward as a child of the Light.