Outside with Christ

John 9 begins with the healing of a man born blind. The story, like so many others in John, is unique to that gospel. The chapter is not even primarily about the healing itself, which takes up a mere seven verses. Strange as it may seem to a first-time reader to find Jesus making mud with his own saliva and anointing a man’s eyes, it’s no stranger than some of his other healings. John’s account is concerned primarily with the repercussions of the event, which take him almost five times as long to tell as the actual healing.

John gives us 41 verses devoted to a man’s story, but no record of his name. That’s actually fairly common in all the gospels, since their subject is Christ, not us. In a way, the man himself is incidental. In another way, he’s anything but.

An Incident Not Incidental

He’s incidental in that this is the second and final time in John’s gospel (and one of seven distinct times throughout the gospels) that Jesus quite deliberately tweaked the Jewish religious establishment by healing on the Sabbath. In the context of the ongoing battle between a decrepit and corrupt Judaism and the urgent and glorious mission of the Son to do the works of his Father (“We must work the works of him who sent me while it is day; night is coming”), healing a man born blind is just another reason for onlookers to inquire “Who’s really in charge here? Who is the true religious authority in Israel? Who speaks for God?” Amidst this much more significant public contest of wills, one that would end at the cross, the man born blind is no more than a MacGuffin, a plot device, even a catspaw. We might think any cripple or unfortunate begging on the Sabbath would have served the purpose equally well.

However, from the perspective of a compassionate Savior, the man born blind is not incidental at all. John reveals in only the third verse that his blindness from birth had a divine purpose, “that the works of God might be displayed in him”. This man was singled out by God before he was even born, the circumstances of his life made to order for just this occasion. Every long hour spent in pitch-darkness was leading right to this moment. When Jesus “passed by” in verse 1, it was no accident. The meeting was prearranged.

Evidence That Speaks for Itself

So then, having accomplished his purpose, Jesus quietly disappears from the narrative. When asked where he is, the man born blind has to confess, “I do not know.” On a prior occasion at the pool of Bethesda, the Lord had used a Sabbath provocation to speak publicly about his relationship to the Father. This time, he lets others do the talking. The evidence speaks for itself. In fact, the Lord does not reappear on the scene until verse 35, after events have played themselves out and the man born blind has gotten himself excommunicated from Judaism. In between, he gives one of the loveliest and most natural testimonies to Christ found anywhere in the gospels, unrehearsed and almost completely coerced by the Pharisees, who simply cannot accept what has taken place.

First, the Pharisees listen to the man’s story, then they call his mother and father to confirm that he was indeed born blind. The testimony of his parents is convincing, and causes the Pharisees a huge public relations problem. Their panic is evident in the absurdity of the question they ask, “How does he now see?” It’s perfectly obvious the man’s parents could not possibly know, as they were not present when he was healed. Moreover, these two are cowards. Aware that the Jews have agreed to excommunicate anyone who confesses Jesus as the Christ, they insist the authorities direct all further inquiries to their son: “He is of age; ask him.”

Out of Options

With no other options, the Pharisees recall the man born blind and grill him a second time, forcing from his lips a confession delightfully uncalculated and so on point it comes like a shot between the eyes. The man may know little about the mechanics of what happened to him, but his reasoning powers are perfectly intact. He replies, “We know that God does not listen to sinners, but if anyone is a worshiper of God and does his will, God listens to him. Never since the world began has it been heard that anyone opened the eyes of a man born blind. If this man were not from God, he could do nothing.”

What are you going to do with logic like that? Furious, they expel him from the synagogue. As far as I know, he’s the only person so privileged in all the gospels. Here he is, outside with Christ.

Finishing What He Started

Of course, this is where the Lord finds him again, and he does so precisely because he has heard that the religious authorities have cast him out. He intends to finish the work he started in this man’s heart. He wants him to know exactly with whom he’s been dealing. “I came into this world,” he tells him, “that those who do not see may see, and those who see may become blind.” The Lord’s day is not complete merely because he has confounded the Pharisees and publicly revealing their blindness. He wants this man to see with the vision of the Spirit, not just with a pair of new, working eyeballs. So he asks him, “Do you believe in the Son of Man?” The man replies, “Lord, I believe,” and worships Jesus. Mission accomplished.

That’s not the end of the story. The Lord goes on in the following chapter to condemn the Pharisees as “hired hands” and not shepherds of the flock. But it’s the end of the story of the man born blind. And it’s a beautiful story. In a world of religious hypocrisy, lies and confusion, where better to be than outside a failed system in total harmony with its object of worship? This man did it to himself entirely voluntarily. Like his parents, he could have played along with the religious leadership, shut his mouth at the right time and remained acceptable to the Jewish establishment. But in keeping silent, he would have denied the man who had given him a new life. Who could do that in good conscience? So instead, he served the Lord’s purposes in displaying the intellectual and spiritual poverty of the Pharisees’ learned arguments.

The writer of Hebrews invites his readers to do the same. “Let us go to him outside the camp and bear the reproach he endured.” May we do so at every opportunity.