Sent

October 13, 2019

John’s gospel chapter 9 tells the story of a man blind from birth whom Jesus healed. One of the more lengthy narratives in the gospel, it recalls not only the healing, but the effect it had upon the man, his family, the religious leaders, and the crowds that followed Jesus everywhere. The manner of his healing is somewhat unique. We often hear of Jesus healing with a touch, with only a word or command, and even sometimes from a distance. In this case, he spit on the ground, made a mud paste with the spit, and rubbed it on the man’s eyes; not very hygienic by any standard. Then told the man to go and wash his eyes in the pool of Siloam. The man did so, and immediately was able to see.

This interests me on two accounts. First, he sent the man away still blind. I would imagine that the man might have been somewhat disappointed. He undoubtedly had heard of this miracle-worker, and when summoned to Jesus, must have been filled with anticipation. To be sent away still blind would likely have been quite a disappointment. This wasn’t what he was led to expect. 

I’ve heard people say they’ve been disappointed by others plenty of times, but never by Jesus, but that’s not been my experience. I’ve listened while someone has prayed for the healing of a loved one and marveled at the often miraculous results, while the person I’ve prayed for dies. I’ve expected great things from God and received penny-ante answers to my pleading. I’ve also experienced great blessing, but God hasn’t often immediately come through with the answer I’ve been expecting. I leave his presence still stumbling in the dark.

Something else about this story intrigues me. Jesus sent him to the pool of Siloam to wash the mud off his eyes. That part of the story seems pretty ordinary, but then John adds a comment: “Siloam means “sent.”” His little notation is significant. The story line didn’t require that observation to carry the narrative forward. His comment is almost an intrusion into the tale that John thought so important that he was willing to interrupt the flow of the story to make his point. But what is that point? 

There are probably better explanations than mine, but I think John is highlighting the importance of our obeying even what seem like nonsensical commands if we want to be healed; if we truly want to see. I cannot see if I am unwilling to go where Jesus commands. If when Jesus begins his work in me I choose to simply stand still and bask in his touch and the sound of his voice, I will remain blind. I need to go where he sends me, even if it means stumbling in the darkness, unsure of the next step, jostled by the crowd. Even if I still cannot see, I must keep moving forward towards the goal he has set for me. I cannot afford to listen to the crowd or even my own heart. There were other pools in Jerusalem. The blind man might have been closer to the pool of Bethesda, but it was to the pool of Siloam he was sent. I might have to ask directions, I may carom off walls or trip over an uneven stone in the path, but if I want to see, I must allow myself to be sent. Staying where I am, waiting for my miracle is not an option. 

Not being able to see is no sin. But standing still when I’ve heard the voice of Jesus telling me to go is a huge mistake, whether I can see or not. So I stumble along in the shadow of my own blindness, towards the pool where I shall wash...and see...to be sent.