“Blind From Birth”

“And as Jesus passed by, he saw a man which was blind from his birth” (John 9:1). The man had not been blinded by accident or disease or the hand of another man. He was blind from his beginnings, by nature, and he had never known anything else.

We can see ourselves in that man — spiritually “blind” by nature and inclination, “blind” from our natural births, for there is no light in the fleshly mind. “It is not in man that walketh to direct his

steps” (Jer. 10:23). Furthermore, like the man of John 9, we are “blind” through no fault of our own. The Tragic Blindness The worst blindness is not that which is literal — though the literal itself can be very sad. The really tragic blindness is that of the mind and spirit. Millions of “healthy,” “happy” people are living today, playing tennis and golf, watching television and movies, taking in natural sensations through their eyes and implanting them upon their brains as vision — who are nevertheless “blind” as moles and bats. They are “blind” and they don’t know it. They “see” things not as they really are, for all they see is the passing glitter. Like the Egyptian idols of silver and gold, “eyes have they, but they see not” (Psa. 115:5). This is the condition of everyone of us until Jesus “passes by,” or “comes near,” to us (v. 1). Jesus told the blind man, “I must work the works of him that sent me, while it is day” (v. 4). He who sent Jesus into the world was also He who in the beginning commanded, ‘Let there be Light,’ and there was light. It was He who, to continue and perfect His first work of creation, caused a great light to shine forth from an obscure village in Galilee, to enlighten the people who sat in darkness (Matt. 4:16).

The Light of the World

Jesus is “the light of the world” (v. 5). Because of the “light” he brings into our lives, we can see without groping in darkness. Because of the “light” we can walk without stumbling, and work without standing idle.

“When he had thus spoken, he spat on the ground, and made clay of the spittle, and he anointed the eyes of the blind man with the clay” (v. ). Spittle is an obvious symbol of degradation and humiliation (Isa. 50:6). As such it fittingly symbolizes the life and death of Jesus, into which we are baptized. We must, through baptism, humble ourselves, contrary to nature. We must submit to the humiliation of a servant, which Christ knew so well. Only then can we be “healed.”

A man is like a horse in its wild state —beautiful and proud and “free”. But the power of that fine animal must be “tamed” and “harnessed”; it must submit itself to reins and yokes in order to be of service.

Slavery Brings Freedom

It is so with us. Christ says, “Take my yoke upon you; and learn of me: for I am meek and lowly in heart: and ye shall find rest unto your souls” (Matt. 11:29). When we humble ourselves to take that yoke, we lose a measure of “freedom” and a measure of “pride.” But the “yoke” proves easier than we ever would have thought, and the “slavery” to Christ brings a “freedom” from sin that the “blind” herd of humanity cannot imagine.

The spittle, mixed with earth, formed clay. Christ was of the dust, of our nature. Our eyes are “anointed” with Christ, so that we may see him for what he really was, and ourselves for what we are — creatures of dust. The Laodiceans were “blind”; surrounded by their childish baubles, they imagined they were rich. They imagined they needed nothing. But they could not “see” that, in the things of the spirit, they were poor and miserable and blind and naked. They were counselled by Christ to anoint their eyes with the proper eye salve so that they might see. Did they need another dose of spittle and clay to be reminded of their true poverty and blindness ?

Jesus is the Pool

And he said unto him, “Go, wash in the pool of Siloam, (which is by interpretation, Sent)” (v. 7): Christ was “the one sent” (v. 4). He is the “pool” in which we must wash. It is a little thing, a humbling thing, to take a public “bath”-but it is necessary for our “healing”. If a man were literally blind, he would go to the ends of the earth, pay whatever it cost, and endure painful treatment to regain his sight. We are spiritually blind and beggars until Christ comes along, and all he asks us to do is to submit to this simple, humble act, which costs nothing and can be done anywhere there is sufficient water. The power and wisdom by which we are healed is God’s, not man’s. And the means of that healing is therefore “foolishness” in the eyes of the world: an innocent man on a cross and a guilty man immersed in water.

The outcome of the blind man’s healing was a religious controversy. The Pharisees began to pepper him with questions, to confuse and cloud the issues and nullify the effect of the great miracle. But the poor man, having found faith as well as sight, stands firm in his experience:

“He answered and said, Whether he (Jesus) be a sinner or no, I know not: one thing I know, that, whereas I was blind, now I see” (v. 25).

Many things in this life may seem uncertain, despite our faith in Christ. But one thing we know for sure. Through the shadows and problems of the present day, we may see dimly a coming kingdom more sure and more real than all our surroundings.

This we know: That in each of our lives God had performed a miracle as amazing as the one of which we have been reading. He has given the vision of His glorious kingdom to men and women who were blind from birth.

Let us rejoice that His light shines into our hearts. Let us thank God that each of us may say,

“I was blind, but now I see.”