“Knowing and Not-knowing”
Rev. Jay Rowland
Gospel of John 9:1-33 (my adapted translation and emphases. Note: since the “man born blind” is not named, I prefer “blindman” for brevity and irony):
As Jesus walked along, he saw a man blind from birth. His disciples asked him, “Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?” Jesus answered, “Neither this man nor his parents sinned; he was born blind so that God’s works might be revealed in him. We must work the works of him who sent me while it is day; night is coming when no one can work. As long as I am in the world, I am the light of the world.”
When he had said this, he spat on the ground and made mud with the saliva and spread the mud on the man’s eyes, saying to him, “Go, wash in the pool of Siloam” (which means Sent). So off he went and washed.
And came back able to see.
The neighbors and those who had seen him before as a beggar began to ask, “Is this not the man who used to sit and beg?”
Some were saying, “It is he.” Others were saying, “No, but it is someone like him.”
Blindman kept saying, “I am the man.”
But they kept asking him, “Then how were your eyes opened?”
He answered, “The man called Jesus made mud, spread it on my eyes, and said to me, ‘Go to Siloam and wash.’ Then I went and washed and received my sight.”
They said to him, “Where is he?” He said, “I do not know.”
They brought the former blind man to the Pharisees.
(Now, it was a sabbath day when Jesus made the mud and opened his eyes.)
Then the Pharisees also began to ask the blind man how he had received his sight. Blindman said to them, “He put mud on my eyes. Then I washed, and now I see.” Some of the Pharisees said, “This man is not from God, for he does not observe the sabbath.” But others said, “How can a man who is a sinner perform such signs?”
And they were divided.
So they asked Blindman, again, “What do you say about him? It was your eyes he opened.” Blindman answered, “He is a prophet.” They did not believe that he had been blind and had received his sight [so] they called the parents of the man who had received his sight and asked them, “Is this your son, who you say was born blind? How then does he now see?”
His parents answered, “We know that this is our son, and (we know) that he was born blind; but we do not know how it is that now he sees, nor do we know who opened his eyes. Ask him; he is of age. He will speak for himself.”
…
So for the second time they called blindman, and they said to him, “Give glory to God! We know that this man is a sinner.”
Blindman answered, “I do not know whether he is a sinner. What I do know is: I was blind, now I see.”
They said to him, “What did he do to you? How did he open your eyes?” He answered them, “I already told you! Why do you want to hear it again? Do you also want to become his disciples?”
Then they reviled him, saying, “You are his disciple, but we are disciples of Moses. We know that God has spoken to Moses, but as for this man, we do not know where he comes from.”
Blindman answered, “Here is an astonishing thing! You do not know where he comes from, and yet he opened my eyes. Never since the world began has it been heard that anyone opened the eyes of a person born blind. If this man were not from God, he could do nothing.”
Knowing and Not-knowing
As recent days have turned into weeks, I’ve struggled to process the scope and the gravity of the coronavirus crisis/pandemic. There’s a word for that: Disorientation.
Uncertainty can be disorienting.
With so much knowing and not-knowing going around, round and round, and with so much hanging in the balance, it’s enough to make my head spin.
I was instantly taken with the opening verse of our passage today from John chapter nine. The opening “action” is Jesus (and his disciples) walking.
I love to walk. When I walk alone, I often pray as I walk. And so the walking drew me in. I wondered how the previous chapter ended, and how it might juxtapose with walking. So I read chapter eight. Here’s a brief summary: Confrontation! A scathing altercation between Jesus and an unknown number of Pharisees and people erupts and dominates the chapter. Jesus endures insult and criticism and is accused of all kinds of wrongdoing. It culminates with Jesus being called a Samaritan and a demon. Jesus defends himself. Accusations get hurled back and forth between Jesus and the people. Tempers flare. It feels ugly even before people begin to look for rocks to stone Jesus to death. Chapter 8 ends with Jesus fleeing for his life. Fade to black.
So as chapter nine opens with walking, I imagine them walking together, lost in thought, struggling to process what just happened. It had to be such a shock to everyone’s system--the disciples, and Jesus too. Their minds must be spinning as they walk along, heavily on their heels rather than light on their toes.
They suddenly realize they’ve stopped walking. They look up to see Jesus crouched down to the ground, quietly speaking with a man. The man has a desperate look about him. His clothes are soiled and tattered--homeless no doubt. But there’s something else about the man--he seems to be ... blind.
The disciples overhear him defensively telling Jesus, “sir, I know my place. This is my place. Ask anyone around here, they know me; I have permission to be here.” In that moment, the disciples are actually relieved that this man knows nothing about the Confrontation, the insults and the threats raining down on Jesus from multiple directions. Then they hear Jesus quietly mutter, to nobody in particular, “this man is not merely blind, he’s invisible; people have stopped seeing him as they step over him or rush past him.”
Jesus has just experienced a severe and violent rejection. Perhaps for the first time in his life, he is facing not only intense criticism and opposition, but a clear threshold of threat and mortal danger. Perhaps most disorienting, maybe also for the first time, he experiences the failure of words. Nothing Jesus said back there in chapter eight moved or pierced anyone’s conscience. His words fell upon deaf ears.
As he rises from his crouched conversation with this blind man, Jesus is overcome with compassion and love. In the wake of growing indifference, defiance and violence, and the failure of words, perhaps Jesus sees an opportunity to show what God can do.
Jesus picks up a handful of dirt and spits into it. He rubs his hands together (for at least twenty seconds!), until a sort of mud-paste forms, which he then (shockingly?) smears directly onto the man’s eyes. And then he tells the man to go wash his face in the pool. What happens next, depending upon your perspective, is that either all hell you-know-what-breaks loose, or the kingdom of God is revealed.
In the wake of the recent altercation and ambush of Jesus, there’s no middle ground. Just a cavernous difference of perception as the situation unfolds.
Scholar Richard Swanson notes, “congenital blindness is identified as a condition that no one had ever cured. The ancient world was full of healers. Some were charlatans. Some were mystics. Some were miraculous, like Elijah the prophet. But only Jesus heals congenital blindness. No one else had done that. This episode in John wants us to notice that and to take it as evidence for the extraordinary status of Jesus.” This unprecedented creation of sight sourced by Jesus creates disruption and uncertainty. To say it another way, after the blind man is able to see for the very first time in his life, everyone else’s vision is altered.
What God can do disrupts assumptions and expectations.
What God can do messes up our knowing and our not-knowing.
What God can do can leave us dis-oriented and re-oriented.
And in the midst of all the knowing and not-knowing, questions arise. One in particular: Where is Jesus?
When the blind man is asked where Jesus is now, his reply is, “I don’t know”
This text clearly locates Jesus.
This text shows--reminds--us exactly where Jesus is: right smack in the midst of the confusion.
This text reveals Jesus spanning the breach between what is known and what is unknown. Whenever we find ourselves cast into disorientation and confusion and we cry out, “where are you, Jesus?” this text locates him right there in the dirt and muck and mess and confusion, ready to mix it up and work out a way through.
This text also locates us--it identifies us: we are the blind one. Right now we can’t see anything clearly about this pandemic crisis. Right now, we have to walk (live) by faith rather than sight. We have no choice.
I see it embodied in that homeless man Jesus notices: a man blind from birth, reduced to self-reliance, isolated, alone, begging, wearing soiled, shabby clothes, vulnerable, harried.
Blind.
There he is.
Meanwhile, following an intense quarrel, public rejection, ridicule, Jesus approaches.
He calls out from this text, “We must work the works of him who sent me while it is day, night is coming when no one can work. As long as I am in the world, I am the light of the world.”
See Jesus in the world—the light of the world right now.
See Jesus shining through faith communities right here in Rochester, and in every town and faith community across this state, this nation and this world.
See Jesus shining through our congregation in the midst of this unprecedented social/physical distancing: through efforts that are connecting our children with adult members who aren’t their parents, and efforts to connect volunteers with our senior citizens, and with one another on a scale we’ve never tried (or needed?) before.
Each of you hearing my voice right now, seeing this service right now are experiencing Jesus the light of the world. Jesus’ Light is his disruption of this disruption, his sight in the midst of blindness, his mystical presence meeting and challenging our fear and uncertainty.
As we brace for more of the unpredictable, Jesus is our anchor in this storm. He is our Light in the darkness. His presence is Love; Jesus, Son of Mary, Son of Humanity, Son of God.
Let us keep our eyes fixed upon Him come what may, leaning into His promise, “As long as I am in the world, I am the Light of the World.”
Early in the Gospel of John, Jesus says to a confused Nicodemus in the dark of night, “…God so loved the world that God sent the Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life. Indeed, God did not send the Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him. (John 3:16-17)
In the first chapter, John announces, “What has come into being in him was life, and the life was the light of all people. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it.”
Together, we shall overcome.
Knowing and not-knowing with Jesus, the light of the world.
