The Time Jesus Saw a Man Blind from Birth
Jesus saw and healed many blind people in His ministry, but John’s account in Chapter 9 of his Gospel is unique. Why? Because we get an inside peep into the disciples’ thinking—a glimpse into how easy it is to turn someone else’s pain into our latest debate.
Now as Jesus passed by, He saw a man who was blind from birth. And His disciples asked Him, saying, ‘Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?’”
(John 9:1–2)
Read that first line again. Jesus saw a man who was blind from birth.
A man. Not a blind man. Not a label. He saw a man. Not first and foremost a need. A man who had a need.
Jesus saw a man.
The disciples?
Where Jesus saw a human being worthy of compassion and care, they saw a theological debate. Worse, they assumed the man was somehow deserving of his affliction. Twisted by religious dogma, they played the blame game: who sinned, the man or his parents?
Two Dead-End Doors
Notice they offer two dead-end options. Either the parents sinned or he did, somehow, in the womb. Suffering is the wage of sin, affliction can be read backwards to a cause, and somebody has to be at fault. That is retribution theory, and those are the only doors religion leaves open—even though Job debunked the whole thing long before.
Jesus batted away the question before healing the man in a show of compassion and care (vv. 3-7).
Eugene Peterson’s The Message brings the debate behind the question to the surface in a way most translations leave buried:
You’re asking the wrong question. You’re looking for someone to blame. There is no such cause-effect here. Look instead for what God can do.”
(John 9:3, The Message)
You’re asking the wrong question.
That’s exactly what religion does. Not only does it turn opportunities to show God’s love into theological debates, but it settles on “right” answers to wrong questions. And it’s often done glibly. Without heart and void of empathy.
The Cost of a Wrong Question
And it doesn’t stop at questions.
The man washes the mud from his eyes and sees for the first time in his life. Colour. Faces. The sky.
Then he walks home, and one by one they drain the colour out of it.
His neighbours can’t even agree that it’s him. They stand in front of a man they have watched beg on that corner for years and debate whether he is him. Erased.
The Pharisees miss the miracle entirely, fixated on a broken Sabbath rule. Unseen.
Then his parents are questioned. The two who have carried his shame since the day he was born. Afraid of being put out of the synagogue, they pass the buck. Rejected.
They interrogate him a second time, and by now he has had enough. Erased. Unseen. Rejected. He bites back: “If this Man were not from God, He could do nothing.”
And for that, they throw him into the street (John 9:8–34). Expelled.
All day people had wanted something out of him. An explanation for their confusion. A retraction for their satisfaction. An answer that fitted their theory.
Then Someone comes down the street looking for him.
This One wants him.
And Jesus answers the yearning beyond his need (John 9:35–39).
The man who had never seen anything is now fully seen. The man cast out is welcomed home.
Seeing People
How often do I see doctrinal issues instead of people worthy of God’s love and care?
How often am I blind to the hurt and pain of those ostracised and rejected from religious circles because I’m playing the blame game?
Jesus models a new way.
He saw the man. And He showed the man compassion and care.
Rather than asking wrong questions—or worse, proposing “right” answers to the wrong questions—Jesus says,
Look instead for what God can do.”
(John 9:3, The Message)
Again Peterson surfaces what the Greek leaves buried. Don’t see people as debates and arguments and talking points. Instead ask, “Father, what are You doing so I can join You in it?”
Jesus saw a man. A man worthy of the Father’s compassion and care. And He didn’t stop at his eyes. He walked him home.
When religion throws someone into the street, the Father’s heart urges us to bring them home.
