John 9:6-7 Seeing and believing

When He had said these things, He spat on the ground and made clay with the saliva; and He anointed the eyes of the blind man with the clay. And He said to him, “Go, wash in the pool of Siloam” (which is translated, Sent). So he went and washed, and came back seeing.

John 9:6-7 NKJV

This man’s healing was a gift from Jesus for love, redemption, and salvation and personal relationship. This is an entire chapter of drama in John about many issues, first from the disciples, then with the Pharisees, but sandwiched between them is God’s tender care for him in these few sentences.

The man was born blind. He knew nothing different. It wasn’t bad or good. It just was what it was. He didn’t ask for impairment or didn’t do something to cause it. The result? Fast forward to this moment and he’s a beggar, an object of contempt and pity, and mostly discarded by his fellow countrymen. The bulk of his experience in life was due to being unique. Some would say a “freak.” Often when Jesus healed or performed a miracle, others sought him out and asked him for it. Or, he asked, “What would you have me to do?” But here, there was no question. Just like the man didn’t ask for blindness, Jesus didn’t ask if he wanted sight.

The brutal reality of being different

I’m currently fighting with moles in my garden. Critters that could care less if it was sunny, cloudy, day or night. They make their way underground and find their meals, mate and have children and live their lives just fine (and entirely in my back yard!) all without sight. Other animals such as bats have a built in radar to make their way in flight and to find food. There is much to see in life, but sight is not a requirement in order to live. God has given to man the task of working for food. To be productive. Conduct business with our fellow man. Be part of a larger group, and using another analogy, to be part of the bee hive. Sight is helpful. Yet this man didn’t know what sight is… so how could he long for it? But what I can imagine is that he wanted to be normal and not to be different any longer — to cease being a burden to others, to climb out of poverty and need, and escape the unjust scorn of the people. Jesus healed his vision, but in reality Jesus released him from a prison of blindness and shame to allow him to fit into life again like other humans. To earn his own money. To live his own life. To find a wife, have a family, and to be able to know the love of God and worship him rather than spend his day steps away from poverty and death. In an ironic twist in this story, he started to see both physically and spiritually, while the Pharisees became increasingly blind.

The eyes of the heart

This man was a beggar and was familiar with being at the mercy and whims of those passing by. This day started as any other, and he had no idea that the breath of the Spirit was about to blow his direction. Without interaction, Jesus approached, mixed saliva and dirt to make clay, applied it to his eyes, then gave him instructions: Go wash. Jesus’ Father, literally, was God. The Spirit’s seed planted in Mary. He had his Father’s DNA. The saliva from his mouth contained heaven’s coding. Heaven, mixing with dust making clay, creates marvelous things (“from dust you were created…” Genesis 3:19). Then he sent him. Go.

Imagine his thoughts while going to wash: “Why did he do this? Is it really possible to see? I’ve been able to navigate my world just fine with how I am, could anything really be different? Can I handle a change?” His heart swelled with possibility. The very act of going, doing, created a context of expectation that built as he walked it out. Faith. His faith was increasing. Believing in a possibility even without being told explicitly what he would receive when he washed. Slowly, but surely, the eyes of his heart were opening at the very same time that his physical eyes were beginning to heal. Incredible. It’s just like when a child is born. At first breath, at first cry, the light is blinding, the world is new and no longer muted like it was in the womb. Instead of being carried mysteriously by the mother, the newborn is cradled in her arms, nourished at her breast. As this man washed his eyes, his life would never, ever, be the same.

This man had no idea what Jesus gave him at first. But on his journey home — within the new but awkward orientation to seeing and merging the experience of sight with his familiar navigation by sound and feel — he considered that Jesus was truly good, and God had heard his plea for normalcy all of those years. This exhilarating experience quickly led to the reality that the new wine he has just sipped will not do well in the old wineskins of Judaism. They completely burst before the day is out. People saw the man with his newfound sight, but it was difficult to connect that it was really him. It’s like seeing your 3rd grade teacher at the grocery store, or your boss at the baseball game — a familiar face out of context is tough to place. It’s not until later that Jesus again shows up after hearing what had happened. The man may now see him. Really see him. His eyes of compassion. Love incarnate. And he worshipped him. God knew him and the musings of his heart and spirit before Jesus ever walked by. Jesus became the midwife, birthing him into the kingdom.

Seeing the kingdom of God takes place in the heart, while seeing the physical world with the eyes can be a distraction. This man had many years to focus his spiritual sight. The quiet place internally where the heart connects with God. For those of us who see, we often must close our eyes, or be in a dark or uninteresting room in order to reacquaint ourselves with seeing with the heart. The sweet spot is to see with both the heart and the eyes, to see the kingdom in everything that has been created! This is true seeing. And what an adventure awaited this very special man as he embarked on this journey.

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