part0016

I thought my sight was normal. I assumed the other fifth graders saw what I saw when they looked at the blackboard: a patch of fuzzy lines. I didn’t ask them if they could see the baseball when it left the pitcher’s hand or the football when the kicker kicked it. I assumed they saw the ball when I did, at the last minute, with barely enough time to swing the bat or make the catch.

Then my teacher called my mom. My mom called the optometrist. The optometrist asked me to read some letters on a chart. The next thing I knew I was handed my first pair of glasses. Talk about a game changer! From one moment to the next, the fuzzy lines became clear. The baseball became big. The football was catchable.

I still remember the exhilaration of sudden sight. I would sit in Mrs. Collins’s fifth grade classroom and lift and lower my glasses, moving from blurry to twenty-twenty, from distorted images to vivid faces. Suddenly I could see.

Christians talk like this. We, too, reflect on the joy of sudden sight. We love to sing the words to the old hymn: “Amazing grace! How sweet the sound that saved a wretch like me! I once was lost, but now am found; was blind, but now I see.” 1 Blind. Blind to the purpose of life. Blind to the promise of eternal life. Blind to the provider of life. But now our sight is restored. We relate to the words of the was-blind beggar: “One thing I do know. I was blind but now I see!” (John 9:25 NIV ).

His story is our story. Perhaps that’s why John was in no hurry to tell it. He had thus far tilted toward conciseness. He needed only twelve verses to describe how water became wine. The healing at the pool of Bethesda required fifteen verses. Within fourteen verses the crowd was fed, and with only six the Savior walked on water. But when John placed pen to papyrus to describe the story of the blind man given sight, the apostle took his time. He dedicated a whopping forty-one verses to depicting how Jesus found, cured, and matured him.

Why? Among the explanations is this one. What Jesus did physically for the blind beggar, he desires to do spiritually for all people: restore our sight.

From heaven’s viewpoint our earth is populated by sightless people. Blinded by ambition. Blinded by pride. Blinded by success. “Though seeing, they do not see” (Matt. 13:13 NIV ). They do not see the meaning of life or the love of God. How else do we explain the confusion and chaos in the world? How else do we explain the constant threat of world war, plagues of hunger, and the holocaust of the unborn? How else do we explain the rising rate of suicide 2 and opioid addiction? 3 We have faster planes, smarter phones, and artificial intelligence, yet we are killing each other with guns and ourselves with drugs.

Billions of people simply cannot see. “The devil who rules this world has blinded the minds of those who do not believe. They cannot see the light of the Good News—the Good News about the glory of Christ, who is exactly like God” (2 Cor. 4:4 NCV ). We need a spiritual ophthalmologist. We need Jesus to do for us what he did for the man on the side of the Jerusalem road.

“As [Jesus] went along, he saw a man blind from birth” (John 9:1 NIV ). No one else saw him. The followers of Jesus may have observed the blind man. He may have entered their field of vision. But they did not see him.

The disciples saw only a theological case study. “His disciples asked him [Jesus], ‘Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?’” (v. 2 NIV ). The blind man, to them, provided an opportunity to talk spiritual philosophy. They didn’t see a human being. They saw a topic of discussion.

Jesus, by contrast, saw a man who was blind from birth, a man who’d never seen a sunrise, who couldn’t distinguish purple from pink. He dwelled in a dark world. Other men his age had learned a craft; he sat on the side of the road. Others had an income; he begged for money. Others had reason to hope; he had reason to despair.

And Jesus sees you. The first lesson of this event is a welcome one. You and I aren’t invisible. We aren’t overlooked. We aren’t dismissed. We may feel like a nameless beggar in the swarms of society, but this story—and dozens of others like it—assure us that Jesus spots us on the side of the road. He takes the initiative. He makes the first move.

“Neither this man nor his parents sinned,” said Jesus, “but this happened so that the works of God might be displayed in him. As long as it is day, we must do the works of him who sent me. Night is coming, when no one can work. While I am in the world, I am the light of the world.” After saying this, he spit on the ground, made some mud with the saliva, and put it on the man’s eyes. (John 9:3–6 NIV )

Now there is something you don’t expect to read in the Bible: Jesus spitting. A prayer would’ve seemed appropriate. Perhaps a “hallelujah!” But who expected to hear a guttural clearing of the throat? A heavenly spit into the dirt? The God who sent manna and fire dispatched a blob of saliva. And as calmly as a painter spackles a hole in the wall, Jesus streaked miracle mud on the man’s eyes.

Of course, given the choice, we’d prefer that God would restore our sight with something more pleasant than mud in our eyes. Maybe a just-released covey of doves or an arching rainbow. To be sure, God grants such blessings. Other times he uses the less-than-pleasant. He initiates the miracle through “mud moments”: layoffs, letdowns, and bouts of loneliness.

I can vouch for this unpleasant process of sight restoration. Denalyn and I moved to Brazil in 1983. She was twenty-eight years old. I was thirty. We were new to the ministry and riding high on missionary fervor. We were called to plant a church, a great church. We envisioned thousands of converts and decades of service. We were naive. Homesickness settled upon us like a cloud. I struggled to learn the language. Scantily clad bathers on Copacabana Beach gave new meaning to the phrase “culture shock.” Brazilians were kind but less than interested in the ministry of green gringos whose use of past perfect tense was far from perfect.

Our team of missionaries squabbled over and wrestled with strategies and direction. Buy a building? Start a broadcast? Street preach? Finally a breakthrough. A colleague felt convicted that we weren’t preaching the gospel. (How could that be?) He urged us to meet, as missionaries, with open Bibles and open hearts and identify the core of the good news. So we did. For several consecutive Monday afternoons, we read and reread Scripture. I can’t speak for the entire team, but I began to see clearly. The big news of the Bible? The message that was billboard worthy? That Jesus died for my sins and rose from the grave. Nothing more. Nothing less.

We began to focus on the gospel message, and our little church began to grow. Even more, we began to grow. We grew in grace, love, and hope. During that season I wrote a book entitled No Wonder They Call Him the Savior. To this day, some three decades later, it is among the most widely received of my writings. It is nothing more than the day-to-day “reveal-ations” Jesus was giving me.

Can you relate? If so, do not assume that Jesus is absent or oblivious to your struggle. Just the opposite. He is using it to reveal himself to you. He wants you to see him! Such was the case with the blind man.

Jesus told the blind man, “‘Go, wash in the pool of Siloam’ (which is translated, Sent)” (John 9:7). The water of Siloam was “sent” from an underground spring. John is making a subtle point. He has referred to Jesus as being sent by the Father no fewer than twenty times thus far in his gospel. 4 To see, we go to our Siloam, the “Sent One” of heaven, Jesus himself.

Access to Siloam involved the descent of three sets of stone-hewn steps, five steps each. 5 This was no casual stroll for anyone, much less a blind man. But he did it. He groped his way to the water. He leaned over the edge of the pool and began to splash his face and wash his eyes. As he did, he saw the water ripple and the sunlight sparkle on the pool’s surface. He saw his fingers open and close. With another splash he could make out the forms of people who stood to either side. From one moment to the next, he could see.

The question is often asked, “What does a person need to know to become a follower of Christ?” This story provides an answer. The man knew nothing of the virgin birth or the Beatitudes. Did he know the cost of discipleship or the meaning of the Holy Spirit? No. He knew only this: a man called Jesus made clay, put it on his eyes, and told him to wash. He received sight, not because he deserved it, earned it, or found it. He received sight because he trusted and obeyed the One who was sent to “open eyes that are blind” (Isa. 42:7 NIV ).

The apostle Paul was sent to the Gentiles “to open their eyes and turn them from darkness to light, and from the power of Satan to God” (Acts 26:18 NIV ).

Consider what Jesus is doing in the Muslim world. “More Muslims have become Christians in the last couple of decades than in the previous fourteen hundred years since Muhammad,” 6 and “about one out of every three Muslim-background believers has had a dream or vision prior to their salvation experience.” 7

For his book The Case for Miracles, author Lee Strobel interviewed Tom Doyle, a leading expert on contemporary dreams and visions experienced by Muslims. Doyle described a phenomenon of person after person seeing the same image: Jesus in a white robe, telling them he loves them, that he died for them, and urging them to follow him. This has been happening in Syria, Iran, and Iraq. It has happened so many times in Egypt that Christian outreach groups took out ads in the newspapers. The ads asked, “Have you seen the man in a white robe in your dreams? He has a message for you. Call this number.” 8

Doyle explains that 50 percent of Muslims around the world cannot read, so Jesus reaches them through dreams and visions. Eighty-six percent do not know a Christian, so Jesus goes to them directly. 9

Jesus is in hot pursuit of the spiritually blind. They populate every pathway of every corner of the world. He finds them. And he touches them. He may use a vision, or the kindness of a friend, or the message of a sermon, or the splendor of creation. But believe this: he came to bring sight to the blind.

This task is reserved for Jesus. The Old Testament contains no stories of the blind being healed. The New Testament contains many, yet with only one exception each event of sight restoration was accomplished by Jesus. It is as if Jesus reserves the miracle of giving sight for himself. 10

If you know the rest of the story of the formerly blind man, you know that he encountered resistance at every turn. His neighbors didn’t believe him. The religious leaders excommunicated him, and his parents refused to defend him (John 9:8–9, 20–21, 34).

The poor guy went from seeing nothing to seeing nothing but resistance. Turns out he wasn’t the only blind person in Jerusalem. The religious leaders called on him for an explanation.

“I’ve told you over and over and you haven’t listened. Why do you want to hear it again? Are you so eager to become his disciples?”

With that they jumped all over him. “You might be a disciple of that man, but we’re disciples of Moses. We know for sure that God spoke to Moses, but we have no idea where this man even comes from.” (John 9:26–29 THE MESSAGE )

The leaders had the openness of a locked bank vault. A bona fide miracle had occurred, but did they seek to meet the One who caused it? Shouldn’t the miracle have stirred at least some amazement? Some reason to pause? They saw nothing but themselves and their religion. Who were the blind ones in this story?

Charles Spurgeon said, “It is not our littleness that hinders Christ; but our bigness. It is not our weakness that hinders Christ; it is our strength. It is not our darkness that hinders Christ; it is our supposed light that holds back his hand.” 11

The was-blind man found himself kicked out of the temple with no one to defend him. “When Jesus heard what had happened, he found the man” (v. 35 NLT ).

Christ was not about to leave the man unprotected. You can expect him to do the same for you. If you believe in him, he has given this pledge to you: “No one can steal [you] out of my hand” (John 10:28 NCV ).

Others may disown you. Your family may reject you. The religious establishment may dismiss you. But Jesus? He will find you. He will guide you.

The story begins with a blind man seen by Christ. It ends with a was-blind man worshiping Christ. Is this not the desire of Jesus for us all?

Apart from Christ we are blind. We cannot see our purpose. We cannot see the future. We cannot see our way out of problems and pain. We cannot see Jesus. But he sees us, from head to foot. He knows everything about us.

When I was a fifth grader, the optometrist gave me a vision test. If God tested your spiritual vision, would you pass the test? Can you see the meaning of life? Have you caught a vision for eternity? Most of all, can you see God’s great love for you? The hand you sense on your face is his. The voice you hear is his.

It is not his will that we grope blindly through life. He wants us to know why we are on earth and where we are going. Our vision matters to Jesus. He will do whatever it takes to help us see how to see.