hidden chapel, sacred stone

carried here by those who've gone

A sermon on Jesus' healing of the man born blind:

This battle in Ukraine is bringing us all up short. Isn’t it? The future no longer looks crystal clear. And the past offers little justification for all this human suffering. Our world has been plunged into a fog of uncertainty, anxiety, and heartache. Or, in a word, darkness. Darkness.

Kind of like the man in today’s Scripture. The man who had been blind from birth. The man who, as they walked by him, the disciples didn't talk to. No, they talked about him.

We always do this in the face of random misfortune, too. Don’t we? It seems to be a defense mechanism. A way we try and shield ourselves from suffering. We think if we can explain anguish, we can protect ourselves from it. Thus the disciples’ calloused question. 

“Rabbi,” they blithely ask, “who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?” The disciples theorize if this man is to blame for his condition. Or if he inherited it. They talk about this issue instead of talking to the person experiencing it. 

And we still do this same sort of thing. Don’t we? We see someone in a bind, and instead of letting our hearts go out to them, we wonder if they brought it on themselves. As if anyone ever chooses a tough break. 

Blessedly, Jesus just dismisses the question out of hand! Jesus tells the disciples the situation they’re witnessing isn’t one that calls for conjecture. It’s one that calls for God. Apparently, if you see suffering and your first question is what the cause might be, you’re asking the wrong question.

What Jesus does instead is, without any request, spits. And while the poor soul in today’s Scripture was probably all too familiar with being spit upon, he had never experienced anything like what he was about to! Jesus makes mud with his salvia, spreads it on the man’s eyes, and tells him to go and wash in the pool of Siloam. 

And no sooner does this man finish wiping the mud away from his long deadened eyes than he sees for the first time in his life! Excruciatingly, though, this healing only causes a new wound. A fresh injury that, frankly, threatens to be more damaging than the original one!

Sadly, Jesus’ healing doesn’t just bring the man in today’s Scripture good fortune. On the contrary, brings him unwanted attention. His cure lands him in the middle of a long-simmering battle. 

So when this man who had formerly been blind refuses to deny that Jesus gave him his sight, Jesus’ opponents make him suffer! They expel this man from the synagogue. And this is no small thing, either! He’s essentially cast out of society itself. He’s become a persona non grata to everyone he’s ever known. 

This is, potentially, a fate worse than blindness. We’re told this man had to beg. But this isn’t begging like it is in our fend for yourself society. They didn’t have things like social safety-nets or equal access back then. Instead, they had alms-giving. 

Now, alms weren’t a gift to the church, and they weren’t a donation to a social agency, either. Rather, alms were a God-pleasing expectation placed upon anyone who had ever stood on the receiving end of enough good fortune to go to bed with a full stomach. Alms were how that society tried to ensure everyone was looked after.

Back when this man was blind then, he, at least, had a place in society. He had a way to make ends meet. But now, he’s cut off from all that! He might be able to see now, but that only makes his situation that much more agonizing! 

And on a Sunday like today, we can relate. Can’t we?

We’re all here because, one way or another, the grace of God has cracked our world wide open. Hasn’t it? Like the man in today’s Scripture, our eyes have been opened. Opened to a vision of this world’s wonderful, miraculous, superfluous existence. 

This world that doesn’t have to exist. And yet, it does! And for no other reason than God’s sheer love, too! This world teems with creatures made by God. And declared “good’ by this very God! This world full of people. People like you and me. People made in the very image of God! 

But now, this beatific vision only brings all this needless, senseless, unspeakable suffering and destruction into greater relief! Doesn’t it? All this, given to us by God for no other reason than God’s great love. And we can think of nothing better to do with this miracle than make war, inflict suffering, and offer shoddy rationals for all the pain we inflict?! 

May all our reasons turn to ash in our mouths. What are mortals that you are mindful of us, O Lord?

On a Sunday like today, the temptation is to think today’s Scripture ends too soon. Isn’t it? The issue for us isn’t will our vision be cured. The question is, what do you do after the miracle. How do you hold on when everything else comes apart?

But, if you would, would you look again at today’s Scripture? And when you do, please don’t fail to overlook the second miracle. The second miracle that may seem like an insignificant detail. But really, this second act is the most profound miracle of all! 

Today’s Scripture doesn’t end when the man is thrown out of the synagogue. Does it?!? “Jesus heard that they had driven him out, and when he found him.” When he found him! When we’re cast out, Jesus steps in! 

With Jesus, it’s not a matter of if. It’s a matter of when. And Jesus’ “when” is right when you have nowhere else to turn. When we have nowhere else to look for hope, Jesus refuses to lose sight of us! As Saint Peter so aptly put it, “Lord, to whom can we go you have the words of eternal life.”

There are no easy answers on a day like today. And Jesus eschews all the rationalizations that only serve to protect us anyway. What he offers instead, though, is himself!

Jesus doesn’t protect himself from our pain. On the contrary, he gets close enough to touch us in the midst of it! In fact, Jesus even takes our suffering upon himself. Suffers it himself. And thus transforms it, too!

At Golgotha, Jesus was cast out so that all might belong to him! At the cross, Jesus took the weaponry of every despot and made his stand with the powerless. When he was laid in the tomb, Jesus emptied the power of Death, and harrowed hell for good measure too! And when he rose three days later, he revealed he won’t let Sin, Death, and all the havoc they wreak, get the last word, either!

For now, though, let us not pretend we're already there. Let us, like the man who in today’s Scripture who could see all along, turn to God in the midst of all this misery. Let us lift our voice in prayer. And our song in hope.