Sermon 30th March 2014

Today, Gill Tayleur, Honorary Assistant Minister,  preaches - based on the reading from John 9: 1-12

THE MAN BORN BLIND

I wonder how you’re getting on with the postcards?! In case you’re new or visiting, this year for Lent we’ve produced a set of postcards, one for each week, with pictures with a variety of artistic styles. The idea is to use them to think about God, about our Sunday Bible readings, and perhaps to pray about those thoughts, even write a prayer on the back of the postcard, if you want to.

The postcard for this week is this one with a man standing on the balcony in the shade, looking out at a brighter street scene. I won’t say any more, as I don’t want to influence your thoughts on it, but one obvious and simple link with our gospel this morning is simply that he’s looking.

Today we’re thinking about what happened when Jesus healed a man who was born blind. We’ve just heard the first 12 verses of the chapter, but in fact the story goes on with what happened after, and takes the whole of this chapter 9.

41 verses are too much to read it all out but let me summarise the plot:

First, as we’ve heard, Jesus and his disciples were walking along, and the disciples asked Jesus a question (more about that in a moment) that led to the man being wonderfully healed by Jesus.

Then we heard his neighbours showing their surprise, and scepticism, asking is this really the same man? And the man himself replied, “yes it’s me alright!”

In the next scene, they took the healed man to the Pharisees and other Jewish authorities who were upset that this had happened on a Sabbath, and then argued about whether or not it was God’s power that had healed the man. They asked the healed man what he thought about the man who healed him, and he replied that Jesus was a prophet. The Jewish authorities didn’t like that answer, and sent for the man’s parents. But the parents were afraid to say what they thought, and said, “Ask our son, he’s old enough to speak for himself!”

So the healed man was called back in. Again he said his healing must have come from God, and the religious leaders got angry at him for saying so.

Finally, in the last scene in this true story, Jesus went and found the man and had a conversation that resulted in the man declaring his belief in Jesus, and worshipping him – and then Jesus’ damning words about the Pharisees and spiritual blindness.

So it’s a long story. And it’s one which well illustrates the growing conflict between Jesus and the religious authorities, a conflict which ultimately led Jesus to his death on the cross. That’s what we’re following in our series this Lent, in order to prepare for Holy Week and Easter. We’re following, we’re accompanying, Jesus’ journey to the cross and today’s story shows the deepening conflict between Jesus and the religious authorities that will ultimately lead to their execution of him. In v 22 we read that the Jewish authorities had already said that anyone who said he believed that Jesus was the Christ would be expelled from the synagogue. The exchanges between Jesus and them in this episode deepen that antagonism, especially with Jesus’ statement that they are spiritually blind, and so we move one step nearer to the culmination of their anger and outrage, one step nearer to Jesus’ death on the cross. And Jesus didn’t avoid it, not at all. He spoke the truth regardless.

So that’s the context, what happened and its consequences. But what can we learn from it? What does this healing of the man born blind, mean for us today? I think we can learn from the disciples, from the Pharisees, and from the man himself. Let’s look at each in turn.

First, what can we learn from the disciples?
In verse 2 they asked Jesus a question about the blind man:

 “who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?”

It’s the big “why?” question of suffering. Why was he blind? There was, at that time, a viewpoint that would have said the man’s parents must have sinned and having a blind child was their punishment. There was another viewpoint that would have said it was the blind man’s own sin, either because God could foresee the sin he would commit in his life in future, or that he somehow sinned while still in the womb.

Either way, the assumption was – and sometimes is today too, I reckon – that if you’re having a hard life, if things go wrong, if you’re suffering, then you must have done something to deserve it. And if your life is going smoothly, that’s because you deserve that too. This “you reap what you sow” attitude can run deep.

But the assumption that suffering is the result of your sin, is wrong. It’s simply not true to the facts: sometimes good people have very hard lives, and sometimes mean and selfish people have easy lives. But this wrong view can create huge pride in those for whom life is easy; “I’ve got this because I deserve it!” And it can create false guilt in those with particular suffering, “What have I done to deserve this?” Even sometimes, “Am I not being healed because in my sin I don’t have enough faith?”

No, Jesus’ response to the disciples’ question is clear:

 “Neither this man nor his parents sinned, but this happened so that the work of God might be displayed in his life.”

Jesus’ teaching, and the Genesis account of how sin came into the world, are clear that when the human race turned away from God, everything went wrong. Along with sin, came in suffering, death and all sorts of bad stuff; the whole world was messed up from how God originally designed it to be. [One day he will sort it all out, making a new heaven and earth with no sin or suffering.] And so there is a general sense in which sin causes suffering, but not always at an individual or personal level. Sometimes it does, like when our anger or greed affects others, but not always. It’s true to say that sin in general causes suffering in general, but specific suffering isn’t always caused by specific sin.

Recognising this truth can rid us of doubt and self condemnation when we suffer, and also of pride when our life is going smoothly.

Jesus’ answer to the disciples’ question is that

 “this happened so that the works of God might be displayed in him.”

Of course God’s power was seen in the healing of this man born blind. It was an amazing thing to happen, a miracle, and one of the signs that Jesus really was the Messiah, and a sign that we might believe in him.

But this too isn’t a universal principle, that suffering results in God’s power being  displayed, which applies in every single case of suffering. Sometimes it is, but not always.

It is true that sometimes, where suffering is submitted to God, then God’s work is displayed, possibly by a healing or deliverance, as here, or alternatively by a courageous response to the suffering, enabling a discovery of God’s strength in our weakness. There are lots of examples of that in the Bible.

In this short book (130 pages) by American author Philip Yancey, called The Question That Never Goes Away, he says this:

In a survey on spiritual formation that asked thousands of people when they grew most spiritually and what contributed to that growth, the number one contributor was surprising. He says, “It wasn’t preaching or worship services, or small group fellowship, or reading Christian books – it was suffering. ‘People said they grew more during seasons of loss, pain and crisis than they did at any other time.’ We discover the hidden value of suffering only by suffering – NOT as part of God’s original or ultimate plan for us, but as a redemptive transformation that takes place in the midst of trial.”

Sometimes suffering makes us turn to God. But that’s not an answer to the “why?” question. Ultimately there are no proper answers to the “why?”question of suffering.

The Bible doesn’t give us the answers, Jesus doesn’t give us the answers, he simply responds with kindness and compassion to those who suffer. And later suffers himself on the cross, showing beyond doubt that God really does know what it’s like and suffers with us.

Philip Yancey again:

“Virtually every passage on suffering in the New Testament deflects the emphasis from cause to response. Although we cannot grasp the master plan of the universe, which allows for so much evil and pain (the Why? question), we can nevertheless respond in two important ways. First, we can find meaning in the midst of suffering. Second, we can offer real and practical help to those in need.”

Yancey goes on to explore these ideas, in a very helpful way, I think – I recommend the book.

So the disciples teach us something about the no-blame mystery of suffering.

Next, what can we learn from the Pharisees? They were very hostile to Jesus, they didn’t like him healing, especially on the Sabbath, and they certainly didn’t like him calling them blind, at the end of the chapter. Jesus was talking about spiritual blindness.

The healing of the man born physically blind symbolises Jesus’ ability to deal with spiritual blindness. What do I mean by that, spiritual blindness?

Well, we know that sight isn’t always literal. We speak of insight, realisation, or of a lightbulb moment, “I seeeee!” when our understanding of something becomes clear or personal.

We can grasp something intellectually, but understanding it personally is different. There have been things in the past few weeks, that I’ve now understood about grief, personally, that I didn’t have experience of before. I’ve said, I never quite ‘got it’ why people who’ve lost someone did a particular thing, and now I find myself doing that thing. Now it’s part of my own experience. I get it! I see!

And it can be the same with spiritual things. We might not understand them at all, or we might understand them in theory, but not personally. That’s what spiritual blindness is. There are two things in particular that we tend to be spiritually blind to - the reality of our own personal sin, and the reality of God’s personal love and grace.

It’s easy to be blind to our own sin. As the prophet Jeremiah said, “the heart is deceitful above all things”. All too often I don’t want to see my sin, my failings, the ways in which I live with ME at the centre of my life. I’m content to stay blind to them.

But it is possible for our eyes to be opened, spiritually, if we’re willing, so that we see our own sin in a personal way. It becomes real to us, and so do the consequences. We see the corruption of our motives, how much I do and say because I want to feel better about myself, to look good in front of others, to have my own way, to let rip to my feelings at the expense of others, to be lazy, angry, critical, jealous and so on. With spiritual sight, I see that I’m driven by my needs, my fears, my greed, and so on. I get it! I see it! When we have this realisation, when it becomes real to us, that’s spiritual sight or insight. That’s seeing the truth, spiritually.

But it’s only half the truth. There’s another aspect of spiritual sight, that needs to come with the sight of our own personal sin, and that’s the sight of God’s personal love and forgiveness. We ‘get’ this when we look at Jesus on the cross, and recognise that he died there for me. When Jesus was on the cross, the world went dark, physically, perhaps with some sort of eclipse. And Jesus said those words we’re familiar with, “my God, why have you forsaken me?” Jesus took that darkness, that separation from God, on to himself, for us, in our place, to pay the price or take the consequences of our sin, that inevitably lead to separation and darkness from the all-good, all holy God. Jesus did this, he died, for me! Spiritual sight means we get it! We see it!

Each Good Friday, Trevor and I watch a DVD of the Passion of the Christ. It’s gory, it’s rated an 18 with good reason, so it’s not for everyone, but I find it very upsetting but very helpful to sit and cry my way through it because I know he suffered so terribly for me, for me. It was my sin that nailed him there. That’s how great his love and mercy and forgiveness are - how unspeakably wonderful!

Do you know what I’m talking about?! Have you received from Jesus your spiritual sight? Do you know you have been blind, and still are to some extent? If not, maybe that’s because you are blind!

And there is no greater blindness than being blind to your own blindness! If you know your sight isn’t right, you can go to the doctor to get well, or to the optician for glasses. The worst thing you can do is not admit you have a problem. If you won’t admit you have a problem, you can’t get better, there’s no remedy!

We have to be willing to see it. Sometimes the more brilliant and successful we are, the less easy it may be to see it, to see our sin and our need for God’s grace. It is often suffering or troubles that lead us to turn to God, to cry out to him, to be dependent on him, to recognise our need of him. Not always, but sometimes, as I said earlier.

So how do we have our eyes opened? How do we receive this spiritual sight from Jesus?

That question brings us to what we can learn from the (ex-) blind man, lastly and very briefly. He was physically healed near the beginning of the chapter and story, and at the end of the chapter his spiritual blindness was healed too. In verse 17 he said Jesus was a prophet; in verse 33 that he had come from God. And later on in verse 38 in response to Jesus asking him if he believes in the Son of Man, the man said

 “Lord I believe” and he worshipped him.

When he said “Lord I believe”,

I don’t suppose he understood much theology or could have explained just what it meant that Jesus was the Christ or Son of Man. But he knew that Jesus was worthy of worship, something a Jew would normally never ever offer another man.

So it seems he grew in his faith and spiritual sight, first saying Jesus was a prophet, one from God, and finally the Son of Man and worthy of worship. Often we too come to faith, and spiritual sight, bit by bit, and it’s practising belief, and worshipping, that can facilitate our spiritual sight.

Lord I believe, help my unbelief! With the little bit of faith we can muster, we can ask Jesus to help us see. And he will. It may be we need to see truths, about ourselves, or about God’s love and forgiveness, or it may be other things.

So as we continue our Lenten journey with Jesus toward the cross, how we respond to today’s story of the man born blind will be different for each of us. We can learn from the disciples, the Pharisees and the blind man himself.

Some of us are struggling with suffering, our own, or the suffering of someone we care about.

It may be that we’re crying out with “why?” questions. God, I don’t understand! How can this be happening? However difficult, painful and complex those questions may be, and they may be immensely difficult, immensely painful, and immensely complex,  it might be helpful to focus more on our response to this suffering than on its cause, as the New Testament writers encourage us to do.

Our response might be to bring our suffering to Jesus, knowing his power can heal, as it did for the man born blind. For some of us, this story can strengthen our faith and boldness in praying for that.

Or our response might be to look for meaning in this suffering, to grow through it as we turn to God in our distress.

Or our response might be to look for the ways in which we can help relieve suffering, or otherwise support those going through it.

For others of us, it’s our spiritual blindness that we need to recognise this morning, and we need to ask Jesus to change that, to help us see!

Whoever and wherever we are, let us all fix our eyes on Jesus, and see his fathomless love for each one of us, as we continue through Lent to the cross and on to the resurrection hope that Easter brings.

And now let’s pray: