“Most people do not see things as they are, they see things as they are.”
–Richard Rohr
One of the miracles Jesus most commonly performed while he was here on this earth was the healing of blind people. The reason this particular miracle is so common may have to do with the fact that it is a metaphor for the spiritual journey itself—the movement from spiritual blindness to spiritual sight. In fact, the spiritual journey can be understood as the movement from seeing God nowhere or seeing God only where we expect to see him, to seeing God everywhere, especially where we least expect him.
It is, as Ignatius of Loyola pointed out, “the ability to find God in all things so that we might love and serve God in all.” This is the most significant healing journey any of us will ever take and it is never as easy as it sounds.
John 9 records the account of a group of very religious people who were unable to recognize the work of God in their midst and missed the opportunity to be a part of what God was doing. In fact, the religious leaders were the ones who were most guilty of thwarting and dismissing the work of God taking place right in their midst. In this particular story the bulk of the attention is given to the varying levels of spiritual blindness among those who witness the healing of the blind man.
Everyone in this story saw the same man healed (or saw evidence of it) but all of them had difficulty recognizing and naming it as the work of God. The disciples were asking the wrong question. The neighbors were stuck in an old paradigm. The Pharisees were concerned with protecting the religious system and their place in it. And the parents were afraid of the consequences of seeing and naming what they saw. What should have been a day of uproarious celebration deteriorated into a day of controversy, debate, fear and expulsion from the community. The spiritual blindness that afflicted this man’s family, friends and neighbors is not all that different from what prevents us from recognizing God’s work today. We all need to be healed.
01. Asking the Wrong Question
The story begins with really good news: Jesus saw the blind man, and being seen by Jesus opens up tremendous potential for healing. But unfortunately, the story goes rapidly downhill from there because those who should have been seeing spiritual reality most clearly were the most blind and undiscerning. Those who were most “spiritual” were the most out of touch with God’s heart for this situation.
The disciples who were with Jesus saw the blind man too, but they used this man’s misfortune as an opportunity for theological and philosophical discussion. “Who sinned? This man or his parents?” There was no love, no compassion for this man’s situation, no concern for his well-being. Instead they turned him into an object lesson, reducing him to a specimen in order to satiate their own intellectual curiosity. They distanced themselves from the raw humanity of the situation and from their own calling as Christ-followers to make a compassionate response. Instead of seeing this an occasion to care for another human being and wonder about the spiritual possibilities present in the situation, they added insult to injury by asking the blame question. “Whose fault is it that this happened?”
Even though the disciples had walked so closely with Jesus, they were caught in a kind of blindness that was more limiting and debilitating than physical blindness. It was a structural blindness embedded in the belief system they adhered to. Their question was shaped by their outdated religious beliefs and cultural superstitions—the commonly held assumption that human misfortune had to be someone’s fault. This framed the question so narrowly that it only allowed for two possible outcomes— neither of which was very positive: either the blind man sinned or his parents sinned. The only way they could have seen beyond these assumptions and their implications would have been to somehow stand outside the system and the limits of their shared way of thinking.
02. Reframing the Question
Jesus responded by reframing the question. He said (in effect), “You are asking the wrong question. Neither this man nor his parents sinned. That is an old way of seeing and interpreting reality and has nothing to do with what is unfolding right now. This man was born blind so that the works of God can be revealed in and through his life” (John 9:3). This possibility hadn’t even occurred to them because their systemic way of thinking had produced the wrong question in the first place.
The right question, according to Jesus, was “What is God doing in this situation and how can I get on board with it?” Now that is a much better question! In fact, it is the best possible question in the face of the brokenness and impossibility of the human situation.
Jesus was not trying to sugarcoat the situation or to avoid dealing with the harsh realities of life. Yes, there is evil in the world. Yes, there is sin with all of its tragic consequences. Yes, there is a complex web of cause-and-effect relationships at work in the human experience. But what good does the blame question do, really? The real question is, “What is God going to do with it?” Jesus engaged the heartbreak and the complexity of the human situation by pointing out that such situations create the most amazing possibilities for God to be at work. Jesus is saying, “Let’s learn how to notice that and then get involved.” Which is exactly what he did.
The disciples blindness to the work of God in their midst is sobering because it demonstrates that even those who are closest to Jesus and on a serious spiritual journey can still miss things—especially if we are living and breathing the same cultural influences as others who are also blind.
03. The Neighbors: Stuck in Old Paradigm
The blind man’s neighbors were the next group of people given the opportunity to see and affirm the work of God in their midst. They had seen the blind man every day and were intimate with the situation. Perhaps some of them were even friends of the family who remembered the day when this man was born and shared his parents’ grief when they discovered he was blind. They had pretty strong paradigms in place about what the situation was, and they were stuck in those paradigms. A blind man who could now see—particularly this blind man whom they knew so well—just did not fit what they were accustomed to seeing and so they couldn’t “see” it.
The neighbors were afflicted, as we all are, with cognitive filters that helped them to categorize and make sense of reality. The problem of course is that these unconscious filters, developed over years of interacting with the situation in the same way, prevented them from seeing anything new or allowing any new data into their consciousness. In fact, they even found ways to try and talk themselves out of this new possibility by questioning whether or not it was even the same man. What follows is a very circuitous conversation in which they could not even agree on whether or not this was the same man even though the man himself was right there saying, “Hey, it’s me!” If the situation wasn’t so sad, it would be comical.
The neighbor’s predicament points out another difficulty we have with seeing: we see what are ready to see, expect to see, and even desire to see. How desperately we need practices, and experiences, and questions that help us get outside our paradigms so that we can see old realities in new ways!
04. Preserving The System at All Costs
By now the situation had gotten so confusing the neighbors didn’t even trust themselves; they brought the man to the Pharisees to seek help in making sense of it all. The Pharisees were the most committed followers of God in their day. Their job, which they took very seriously, was to uphold and restore a deeper piety and holiness to the Jewish people in the only way they knew how—through a meticulous observance of the law. The Pharisees were by-the-book people. They were determined to be right. But as I once heard Dallas Willard say, it is hard to be right and not hurt anyone with it.
On the day of the blind man’s healing they had only one concern: the preservation of the religious system (as represented by Sabbath keeping) and their place of power