What does it really mean to be blind?

The most obvious answer is where we start in today’s Gospel: to be blind, as this man was blind, is to be physically unable to see. Science would say that somewhere in the system of eyes, optic nerve and brain there is something that doesn’t work as it was intended. Modern medicine would look for a cause, whether physical or psychosomatic, and attempt to deal with the blindness by addressing the cause. Jesus’ disciples do the same, drawing on the standard wisdom of their day, seeking to find a cause in someone’s sin.

Jesus isn’t interested in the cause, but in the purpose of the man’s physical blindness, the opportunity “to let God’s work be revealed in him.” (per Raymond Brown, S.S., The Gospel According to John, Anchor Bible, Vol. 29, p. 367) (per Raymond Brown, S.S., The Gospel According to John, Anchor Bible, Vol. 29, p. 367) Jesus gives the man his sight. If the event had been recounted in one of the other three Gospels, it might have ended there, but here there are 34 verses still to come! Clearly there is something more significant happening here than the curing of physical blindness.

The theme of the story is indeed blindness, but on at least two levels. Physical blindness is one thing—something modern science can address in many ways—but blindness in the intellectual, emotional, and (especially) spiritual realms is quite another. Just as the point of the story is not physical blindness, it is also not about curing blindness, but healing, which has been defined as the restoration of meaning to human life.

As we follow the man born blind through this chapter, we first see him gaining his physical sight—his eyes are opened, and he beholds the created light for the first time. He is cured. The story continues, showing us how his spiritual eyes are opened and he beholds the light of the world—Jesus. He is healed.

Others in the story remain blind to the reality before them. Out of fear, his parents are willfully blind to what has happened. They can not acknowledge the reality and testify to Jesus’ ministry, so they pass the buck back to their son.

There are many people in this world afflicted with this kind of blindness—people who don’t want to admit truth that lies clearly before them, because it might upset their carefully nurtured and structured way of life. The Al-Anon movement, which supports family members of alcoholics, sometimes refers to an person’s drinking as “the elephant in the living room.” It dominates a family’s life, but they tiptoe around it and never talk about it—they behave as if it wasn’t there. This kind of willful blindness starts as a self-preservation device, but often ends up harming everyone.

Spiritually, I believe we see the same kind of blindness in people’s reluctance to testify to their faith. We fail to heed the discipleship call, perhaps out of fear that relationships with friends and family may be damaged.

The Pharisees who question the man and his parents could not accept that Jesus was a man of God, because he didn’t conform to their accepted definition of what that meant. He “worked” on the sabbath, so he was a sinner, and therefore what he did could not have been of God. It was simple elegant logic, which completely missed the point of Jesus’ identity and mission.

The Pharisees’ blindness is just as willful as the parents’, but it stems from a more intellectual place—a carefully constructed and preserved religious system. I heard similar attitudes in some of the politicians for whom I once worked as a researcher. More than once, I was told to bury a report I had prepared, because its conclusions didn’t fit the minister’s political beliefs. The evidence was there—but my superiors refused to see it. I was once told, “If someone finds that I have this information, I’ll have to do something about it—and I’m not going to.”

The evidence about Jesus was there for the Pharisees to see—it was unheard of to heal a man born blind! But they would not see, and there are none so blind and those who will not see. The man himself had to believe, because he was living the reality. He could not remain blind to what had happened to him, and the eyes of his soul were opened. Seeing the light led him to truly see the true light.

There is a powerful caution to the church in this story. We constantly affirm that the church is called to grow, but churches can become fixed in their attitudes about what it means to be a disciple of the true light. We can end up echoing the Pharisees, claiming that “we know.” Let us remember, though, that the one who saw the true light was one who had been scorned as a child of sin—an outsider.

The story begins with Jesus reaching out to this person on the margins of his society—divine initiative, calling forth belief, opening into new life. God continues to reach out to us, touching the eyes of our hearts, opening our lives to his truth. May we live into that holy touch, with open eyes to behold God’s glory, open hearts to know his love, open mouths to speak God’s truth, and open doors to welcome all.