From Blindness to Sight
John Shuck
First Presbyterian Church
Elizabethton, Tennessee
February 19, 2012
John 9:1-41 (Scholars' Version)
This is my favorite story from the Gospel of John.
It is filled with irony and snark. There may have been an event
in the life of the historical Jesus that is the basis for this story.
The Jesus Seminar concluded by a narrow majority that the historical
Jesus might have cured one blind person by the use of spittle. Not
that the spittle was medicinal but that Jesus fit the profile of a
charismatic healer and the healing was of blindness due to psychosomatic
therapy.
The story became part of the lore about Jesus. In Mark 8:22 ff., Jesus cures a blind man with spittle. In Mark
10:46 ff., he cures Bartimaeus of his blindness. Both may be
narrative elaborations of one common event. Thus this story in John chapter 9 may be a further elaboration in which the author of John’s gospel places the healing in the context of another struggle altogether.
That is the struggle in John’s
time between these two infant sibling religions that arose after the
destruction of Jerusalem and the Temple by the Romans in 70 CE. These
two siblings became Judaism and Christianity. The common parent for
these two religions was Biblical Israel. The Gospel of John is one side of the squabble between these siblings. Jesus never had a conflict with “the Jews”. He was a Jew. That is John’s conflict. He creates these stories to present Jesus on his side.
Ancient
religion was about the sacrifice of animals. You go to the Temple or
to a holy shrine whether it is the Temple of Zeus or the Temple of YHWH
and you sacrifice animals. That is worship. It appears that a couple
of things are happening. The Temple in Jerusalem is destroyed. That
makes animal sacrifice a logistical problem. Also a consciousness has
been arising of thinking of worship without animal sacrifice. This
sacrificial practice is slowly becoming symbolic or commemorative.
At
least two paths develop, one centering on Jesus as sacrifice
represented by the Lord’s supper and another on Torah, circumcision, and
Sabbath. Neither requires animal sacrifice. One path becomes centered
in the church and the other in the synagogue. John’s gospel reflects this early division from the perspective of what would become church. When characters in John’s gospel are kicked out the synagogue that reflects the situation in the author of John’s time, not in the time of the historical Jesus.
So John
takes this story in the lore of Jesus of healing a blind person
probably psychosomatically and elaborates making it a teaching moment.
There is nothing psychosomatic in John’s telling of it. Jesus
has been exaggerated to become God incarnate. He barely touches the
ground. He speaks in exalted terms about himself. “I am the Light of
the World!” Just to show that this healing was no parlor trick, John has the blind person be born blind.
This
gives the disciples an opportunity to ask a theological question.
Whose sin caused him to be born blind? If you have a just God who runs
the place, you can’t have people suffer for no reason. You have to
blame someone, either the man who sinned (either in the womb or in a
previous life) or his parents. John sets up a classic question of theodicy.
By
the way, a side note. Since I mentioned theodicy, it might be fun to
go there for a minute. Theodicy is the attempt to explain the injustice
of God. If you have an all-powerful and all-good God, why is there
suffering and evil? Much thought, energy, and time have been spent on
that question. You can tie yourself in knots over this. We ask this
question in many different ways, whenever there is suffering in our own
lives or in the lives of others, we ask what is God doing?
If
you have found an answer that works for you of why an all-good and
all-powerful God can allow for suffering and evil, then I say go with
it. If you have an answer that works I don’t want to take it away from
you.
Personally,
I take the easy road. I think an all-good and all-powerful God on one
hand co-existing with suffering and evil on the other is a logical
impossibility. I find that any explanation for someone’s suffering by
implying that God could fix it if God wanted to is cold and cruel.
I
let go of the idea of an all-powerful God. The answer then is easy.
God is not all-powerful. There is no magic fix out there. Life is a
mix of good, evil, suffering, and joy, and we make the best of it.
But I do believe God is all-good. Not all-powerful but all-good.
That to me means Life is worth giving it a go and hanging on for the
ride. It also means that part of Life’s purpose is to look for and to
find decency, compassion and joy and to make life more decent,
compassionate, and joyful for ourselves and others. If you would like
to read someone who agrees with me, I recommend Rabbi Harold Kushner, When Bad Things Happen to Good People.
Here is how the Gospel of John handles the question of theodicy.
As Jesus was leaving he saw a man who had been blind from birth. His disciples asked him, “Rabbi, was it this man’s sin or his parents’ that caused him to be born blind?”
Jesus responded, “This man did not sin and neither did his parents. [He was born blind] so God could display his work through him. We must carry out the work of the one who sent me while the light lasts. Nighttime is coming and then no one will be able to do any work. So long as I am in the world I am the light of the world.”
This is an interesting answer. What John’s
Jesus is saying is that you can spend a lot of time worrying over who
to blame for misfortune and suffering. You can blame the victim. You
can blame the parents. You can even blame God. Or you can carry out
the work of healing while you have the light to do it.
John’s
gospel is a symbolic gospel. Nothing is to be taken literally. Jesus
is not just about Jesus. The figure Jesus is not a one of a kind
supernatural God-Man. I see him as representing the Authentic Human.
He is a symbol, an archetype perhaps, of what it means to be an
integrated, authentic, and aware human being. When Jesus speaks so
exaltedly about himself, we can read it that he is speaking exaltedly
about human beings.
Jesus is you when you see yourself as you truly are.
So the answer to the question of why do bad things happen to good people is this:
So you can do good today.
So pick up some spit and let’s go heal this guy. Here is the text:
With that he spat on the ground, made mud with his saliva, and smeared the mud on the man’s eyes. Then Jesus said to him, “Go, rinse off in the pool of Siloam” (the name means “Emissary”). So he went over, rinsed off [his eyes], and came back with his sight restored.
That
is all done in the first three small paragraphs, the first seven
verses. The rest of the narrative, the next couple of pages, the next
34 verses are about the responses to this healing. This is all John’s creation. Remember this is all fiction. John made this whole thing up. Part of this narrative is John’s sniping at his sibling, the synagogue. John writes later in the narrative:
“…the Judeans had already agreed that anyone who acknowledged [Jesus as] the Anointed One would be banned from their congregation.”
That is the historical issue behind John’s gospel. Those are John’s
fighting words. His crowd in his time as he sees it has been thrown
out of the synagogue. This is reminiscent of church splits.
You
know there are dozen (give or take a couple) Presbyterian denominations
in the United States. Last month, another one started. It is
another splinter off the PC(USA). Apparently, the PC(USA) does not
believe in the authority of Scripture. Because if we did we wouldn’t
allow gays to be ministers. If we really loved Jesus we wouldn’t
allow gays to be elders or deacons either. From our end we say the
issue might not be scripture but perhaps a wee bit of prejudice on your
side?
Now
imagine either side writing a gospel and putting Jesus in the script.
Imagine the snark and sarcasm that would be embedded in the text. I
know I could write a doozy. That is John’s gospel. The hurt and the anger jump off the page.
But
it isn’t all snark and sarcasm. It does rise above that on occasion.
Jesus certainly is a figure used to bolster one side in a sibling
squabble. But he also represents the authentic human. In order to read
it the second way, we have to allow ourselves to be the opponent of
Jesus in the text as well as his ally.
The
Pharisees or the Judeans or the leaders of the synagogue represent the
folks who cannot see beyond their own traditions. These are those who
believe that unless something receives their stamp of approval it cannot
be legitimate. Anyone who does work outside the bounds of the
authoritative structures is to be mocked and not acknowledged.
They are blind for doing that.
But…is there a sense in which we do the same on occasion? If honest I have to admit my blindness too.
There
are forms of religious expression that I find particularly blind,
silly, and superstitious even. I am suspicious of faith healers. I
don’t like the way some people read the Bible as if it is a supernatural
revelation from heaven. I don’t like certain views of Jesus dying for
sins and whatever.
I
think everyone would benefit from a dose of religious and scientific
literacy. But if I cannot open my eyes enough to see that not everyone
experiences life, our religious tradition, spirituality, and healing in
the same way I do, then I am like the Pharisees who ask smugly,
“We’re not blind are we?”
Well, yeah, kind of, you are.
There
are many different ways to live in this world. We all have our blind
spots. We have blind spots about ourselves and we have blind spots
about others. Sometimes others can point out our blind spots. That
can be painful or embarrassing. That should be done sparingly and with
love, not fake love, real love. Before we point out the speck in the
other’s eye, we could remove the plank in our own as Jesus is reported
to have said.
It
seems that the gift of insight, the ability to see with the heart, is
the gift that recognizes ironically, that we see very dimly. The
greater the insight, the less omniscient we become. The greater our
horizon of knowledge and wisdom, the larger is the abyss of the unknown.
Insight then becomes humility.
That is the insight of John’s
story. The blind beggar, the most humble of all has the gift of sight,
whereas the scholar, the leader, the person with authority, is blind.
The blindness on the part of the leaders in the text is not due to
their lack of knowledge or wisdom. The blindness is the unwillingness
to see that others can see where they cannot. It is the lack of
humility.
Humility
as insight is not hiding your truth. It is telling your truth but
recognizing that your truth is provisional, meaning it can change.
Humility also recognizes that your truth is one truth among many. None
of us has a corner on truth.
One
of the more rewarding aspects of ministry is being able to be present
when people have their eyes opened in such a way to see things about
themselves, or others or the significance of their lives. This is
different than trying to pull the wool over someone’s eyes. This is
different than the blind leading the blind. The posture of seeing is
one of permission-giving and of humility. It is a posture of
invitation. It is not forcing one’s truth on another but allowing
through the telling of your truth for others to discover theirs. It is
the gift of listening so that others may find the space to become
whole.
Our
story began with the disciples asking Jesus whose sin caused this man
to be born blind. Jesus turns the question. He says it is nobody’s
sin. It is life. In fact, it is an opportunity.
To
the suffering and blindness in the world, you have the opportunity,
with your life, with your truth, with your limited sight, to respond
with compassion and healing.
Work while you have the light.
Amen.
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