Who Sinned? The Man Born Blind John 9

This is not an easy story. Right in the middle of John’s Gospel account, Jesus has already locked horns with the powers that be. He has moved from private miracles, like the one at the wedding at Cana to more public displays such as the Sabbath day healing at the Beth-zatha pool. He has fed the five thousand. He has been confrontational and abrasive. He is controversial. Our Savior.

Escaping a stoning attempt, Jesus and his disciples see a man who was born blind. “Who sinned?” the disciples want to know. Nothing this dire could happen unless it was in retribution for some sin. Who sinned? The man himself in his mother’s womb? The man’s parents?

Jesus performs a multi-step healing. He spits, he mixes, he spreads, and he bids the man to go to a pond and wash away his blindness. Of course, it is again the Sabbath. Jesus breaks the law by healing, by mixing the earth and by bidding the man to travel to what was probably (scholars aren’t certain) beyond the 1000 yard permitted distance.

Who sinned?

Jesus and the disciples then step away from the narrative and a drama unfolds. Neighbors can hardly believe this is the man who used to beg. They take him to the Pharisees who cross examine him relentlessly about his healing and his healer. The man’s parents become involved and they clearly want no blame for any of this attached to them. 

Do we judge them for distancing themselves from their son, or do we sympathize with them for their inability to share the magnificence of his healing?

Who sinned?

The Pharisees then question the man again, reminding me of a thousand police interrogations that I've seen on TV. “Tell us the what you know. That man is a sinner. We already know everything about him. Your best bet is to turn him in as the sinner that he is and get off with a warning.”

Who sinned?

The man finally stands up for himself and answers the Pharisees as snarkily as I could possibly wish. The Pharisees revert to the original premise and tell him he was born in sin and they don’t need his kind anyway.  Out of the synagogue he is cast.

Who sinned?

Cue the reappearance of Jesus who asks the man for a declaration of faith. The man declares and he is now a part of a new community. Jesus remarks on the difference between seeing and not seeing, of thinking you can see and knowing you can’t. There endeth the reading.

John loves Jesus and makes him the hero of every scene. This is a heavy-handed story in the middle of a heavy-handed Gospel. Even knowing the outcome, it’s impossible not to be nervous about Jesus’ increasingly provocative behavior.

This man was sent out to beg by his parents, we presume, on the first day he was old enough. His life was closed down, dead, dark. Then comes Jesus into his life and suddenly, light dawns. He can see. He has a future. He even finds his voice, his confidence.

Jesus is not going to compromise. His job is to redeem humanity and that is what he will do. He is not shy about announcing himself. There is no “messianic secret” in John’s Gospel account. Jesus is loud and proud. He is so intent on bringing people into the light of his grace that he gladly risks everything in order to make just one more disciple.

John’s Gospel clearly states that this man was born blind so that “God’s works might be revealed in him.” Does this trouble you? This sad story has a happy ending; at least it does from my perspective. He loses his parents and his synagogue but he gains Jesus. No comparison.

But did God give him his blindness just for this story to take place? Are all the good things and bad things in the world purely the means to our various salvations? Could we stand to know that?

Who sinned?

In my life and work I have seen people in very grievous situations. I've seen people in extremely fortunate situations. I've known people with pure hearts and inner happiness, and, of course, I've known people with tormented souls and nothing but rage. Why is this so? Who makes the call? I have no idea.

The only thing I do know is that whatever state we’re in and however deep our joy or profound our sorrow, Jesus is waiting to walk into our life and turn on the lights. He will give us our voice; he will open his arms and the arms of others. He will be waiting for us. And it will be beautiful.

The story of the man born blind is followed immediately by Jesus’ teaching of the Good Shepherd. We don’t hear it in Sunday’s reading for the Fourth Sunday in Lent. We get the sense of it when we read Psalm 23 and possibly sing “My Shepherd Will Supply My Need”. After the harshness of this story, the reassurance of “I know mine and mine know me” is just what we want to hear.

Who sinned? Does it even matter?