John 9:1 - Meaning and Application

Here we have sight given to a poor beggar who had been blind from birth. Notice, first, the attention our Lord Jesus gave to this sad case (John 9:1). As Jesus passed by, he saw a man who was blind from birth. The wording points back to the end of the previous chapter and supports the view that this story comes right after it.

Even though the Jews had treated Jesus shamefully, by both words and actions, and had given him every possible reason to turn away from them, he still did good among them whenever he could. He did not decide that he would never again show them kindness. Healing this blind man was a public mercy, because it enabled him to earn his living instead of being a burden to the neighborhood. It is noble and Christlike to be ready to serve the public, even when people ignore us or treat us badly, or when we think they do.

Though Jesus was fleeing danger and trying to save his life, he still stopped willingly to show mercy to this poor man. We move too quickly when we pass by chances to do good. When the Pharisees drove Christ away, he went to this poor blind beggar. Some older writers saw in this a picture of the gospel going to the Gentiles, who sat in darkness after the Jews rejected it and pushed it away.

Christ met this poor man along the way and healed him while he was passing by. We should also take chances to do good as we go, wherever we are. The man’s condition was very sad. He was blind, and he had never seen before. If light is a joy, how painful it must be to spend every day in darkness. A person who is born blind has no memory of sight at all.

Think how much such a man might give to enjoy even one day of seeing light, colors, shapes, and forms, even if he never saw them again. Why is life given to someone in such misery, shut out from the sun and unable to see his way, as Job says of his own distress (Job 3:20-23)? We should thank God that this was not our own condition. The eye is one of the most wonderful parts of the body, formed with great care and skill. In the making of animals, it is said to be one of the first parts that can be clearly seen. What mercy it is that there was no failure in the making of ours.

Christ healed many who were blind because of disease or injury, but here he healed a man who was born blind. He did this, first, to show his power to help in the most hopeless cases, and to rescue where no one else can. Second, he did it as a picture of his grace in saving sinners, giving sight to those who are blind by nature.

Our Lord’s compassion for this man was very tender. He saw him, which means he noticed his condition and looked on him with concern. When God is about to bring deliverance, Scripture often says that he sees the affliction. In that same way, Christ saw this poor man. Others saw him too, but not as Christ did. The man could not see Christ, but Christ saw him and met his need before he even asked.

Christ is often found by those who are not looking for him and do not see him, as in (Isaiah 65:1). And if we know anything of Christ, it is because he first knew us (Galatians 4:9) and took hold of us first (Philippians 3:12). Second, notice the conversation between Christ and his disciples about this man. When Jesus left the temple, they went with him, for these were the ones who stayed with him in his trials and followed him wherever he went. They lost nothing by staying close to him, but gained much experience.

Notice the question the disciples asked their Master about the blind man (John 9:2). When Christ looked at him, they looked too. Christ’s compassion should stir up ours. It is likely that Christ told them the man had been blind from birth, or they already knew it. But they did not ask Jesus to heal him. Instead, they raised a strange question: “Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?”

This question was, first, unkind and judgmental. They assumed that this unusual misery must be the punishment for some unusual wickedness, as if this man were a greater sinner than others in Jerusalem (Luke 13:4). It is one thing for uncivilized people to assume, “Surely this man is a murderer.” It was more blameworthy for the disciples, who knew the Scriptures and knew that “all things come alike to all,” and that Job’s case showed that great sufferers are not always great sinners. Repentance teaches us to call our own troubles punishments, but charity teaches us to call other people’s troubles trials, unless the truth is very clear.

Second, their question was needlessly curious. If they already assumed this trouble came from some terrible sin, why ask whether it was the man or his parents? What good would that do them? We are often more interested in other people’s sins than in our own. It is more important to ask why God is dealing with us than why he is dealing with others, because judging ourselves is our own duty. They asked, first, whether this man was being punished for some sin of his own, either committed in life or somehow before birth. Some think the disciples had been influenced by the Pythagorean idea that souls existed before birth and moved from one body to another.

Were they asking whether this man’s soul had been put into this blind body as punishment for some great sin committed in a former body? The Pharisees seemed to think something like this when they said, “You were altogether born in sin” (John 9:34), as if only those marked by physical trouble were born in sin. Or they may have meant, second, whether he was being punished for his parents’ sin, since God sometimes visits the children for the guilt of the parents. That is a good warning to parents to watch against sin, lest their children suffer for it after they are gone. We should not be cruel to our own family, like the ostrich in the wilderness.

Perhaps the disciples were not sure that this was really punishment for any actual sin of his own or his parents. They may simply have remembered that Jesus had told another man that sin was the cause of his weakness (John 5:14), and so they asked, “Master, whose sin caused this weakness?” They did not know how to explain this providence, so they wanted Jesus to tell them.

God’s fairness is always certain, for his righteousness is like the great mountains. Yet we do not always understand his ways, because his judgments are a great deep. Christ’s answer to this question also shows that he was always ready to teach and to correct his disciples’ mistakes.

He first gave the reason for this man’s blindness, saying, “Neither this man nor his parents sinned, but he was born blind so that the works of God might be displayed in him” (John 9:3). Christ, who knew the hidden purposes of God, taught two things about unusual troubles. First, such troubles are not always sent as punishment for sin. The whole human race is sinful, so any suffering still leaves us owing God thanks for his kindness. But some people suffer far more than others in this life without being more sinful than others. This man and his parents were sinners, of course, but God was not pointing to any special guilt when he allowed this blindness.

We must be very careful not to judge people as great sinners just because they suffer greatly. If we do, we may end up attacking those God has afflicted (Psalm 69:26), accusing those he has forgiven, and condemning those for whom Christ died, which is bold and dangerous (Romans 8:33, Romans 8:34). Second, some troubles are meant mainly to display God’s glory and his works. God has full authority over all his creatures, and he may use them for his glory in whatever way he chooses, whether in action or in suffering. If God is glorified in us or through us, then we were not made for nothing.

This man was born blind, and it was worth it, in God’s purpose, that he should remain in darkness for so long, so that God’s works could be shown in him. That meant, first, that God’s qualities would be displayed in him. His justice is seen in making sinful people open to such severe troubles. His common goodness and power are seen in supporting a poor man under such a long and heavy affliction. And his special goodness and power would be seen in healing him. The hard things in providence, which seem hard to explain, can often be understood this way, God intends to show himself through them and make his glory known. People who ignore God in ordinary events are sometimes shaken by extraordinary ones. So a good man can accept loss in comfort, knowing that God will somehow gain glory through it.

Second, this man’s blindness would help reveal God’s purpose in the Redeemer. He was born blind so that our Lord Jesus could have the honor of healing him and show that he was sent by God as the true light of the world. In the same way, the fall of man was allowed, and the blindness that came after it, so that God’s works might be shown in opening blind eyes. A long time had passed since this man was born blind, and yet the reason for it did not become clear until now. The purposes of providence often do not show themselves until much later. The sentences written in the book of providence are sometimes long, and you must read far ahead before the meaning becomes clear.

Christ then explained his own eagerness to help and heal the man (John 9:4, John 9:5). He was not seeking attention, but carrying out the work given him by the Father. “I must do the works of him who sent me while it is day; night is coming, when no one can work.” This was not only why Christ kept doing good for people’s souls and bodies, but also why he did this miracle on the Sabbath, since works of necessity could be done then.

First, it was his Father’s will: “I must work the works of him who sent me.” When the Father sent the Son into the world, he gave him work to do. He did not come to live in honor and ease, but to do a task. God sends no one to be idle. The works Christ had to do were the works of the One who sent him, not only assigned by him, but also done for him. Christ worked together with God. He also bound himself most strongly to do the work he was sent to do: “I must work.” In the covenant of redemption, the agreement by which Christ undertook to save his people, he committed himself to come near to God as Mediator, that is, the one who stands between God and people (Jeremiah 30:21). If Christ was willing to be bound to this work, should we be willing to live loosely and carelessly?

Having taken on this duty, Christ put all his strength into it. He did the works he was given to do, and made a real business of what was his business. It is not enough to look at our work or talk about it, we must do it. Second, this was the right time: “I must work while it is day,” while the time set for work lasts, and while the light given for work remains. Christ himself had his day. All the work of his mediatorial kingdom, the saving rule he carried out as Savior, had to be done within time and in this world. At the end of the world, when time is gone, the kingdom will be handed over to God the Father, and God’s hidden plan will be complete.

All the work he had to do in his own person on earth also had to be finished before his death. The time of his life in this world was the day he meant here. Our life is our day too, and we should use it to do the work of the day. Daylight is the proper time for work (Psalm 104:22, Psalm 104:23). While we have the day of life, we must stay busy. We should not waste daylight or play when we should be working. There will be time enough to rest when our day is over, because life is only a day.

Third, the end of his opportunity was near, so he would be diligent. “The night comes, when no one can work.” The thought of death drawing near should stir us to use every opportunity in life for good, both in doing good and receiving good. The night is coming, and it will come surely. It may come suddenly, and it keeps coming closer. We cannot know how near our sunset is. It may go down at noon, and we cannot count on even a brief twilight between life and death.

When night comes, we cannot work, because the light we need for work is gone. The grave is a land of darkness, and our work cannot be done in the dark. Also, the time given us for work will then be over. When our Master gave us duty, he also gave us time. When night comes, the laborers are called in, and we must then show our work and receive what we deserve for what we have done. In the world of final reward and judgment, we are no longer on trial. Once the candle has burned down to the end, it is too late to buy more.

Christ uses this as a reason to keep himself diligent, even though he had no inner conflict to fight. If he drew strength from such thoughts, then we have far more reason to press these truths on our own hearts to stir ourselves up.

His work in the world was to bring light to it (John 9:5). “As long as I am in the world, I am the light of the world.” He had said this before (John 8:12). He is the Sun of righteousness, who has light for those who can see and healing in his rays for those who are blind and cannot see. In this, he is far greater than the natural sun.

Christ would heal this blind man, who stands for a blind world, because he came not only to give light, but also to give sight. This gives us, first, strong encouragement to come to him as a guiding, life-giving, and refreshing light. Who should we look to but him? Which way should our eyes turn except toward the light? We receive the sun’s light freely, and we may also receive Christ’s grace freely, without money and without price.

Second, it gives a good example of usefulness in the world. What Christ says of himself, he also says of his disciples: you are the light of the world. If that is true, then let your light shine. What were candles made for except to burn?

The way Christ healed the blind man is also worth noticing (John 9:6-7). The details of the miracle are unusual, and no doubt meaningful. After speaking for the instruction of his disciples and to open their understanding, he turned to open the blind man’s eyes. He did not wait for a safer time, a more public time, or until the Sabbath had passed. We should do any good we have the chance to do right away. Anyone who waits until no objection can be raised against a good work may leave many good works undone forever (Ecclesiastes 11:4).

In the healing, notice first the making of the eye salve. Christ spat on the ground and made clay from the spittle. He could have healed the man with a word, as he had done with others, but he chose this method to show that he is not limited to one way of working. He used his own spittle because there was no water nearby, and also to teach us not to be overly fussy or picky. When there is a need, we should be willing to use what is at hand if it will do the job. His use of his own spittle also shows that there is healing power in everything that belongs to Christ. Clay made from Christ’s spittle was far more valuable than the balm of Gilead.

Next, he applied it to the eyes. He anointed the blind man’s eyes with the clay, or, as the margin says, he spread the clay over them gently, like a tender doctor using his own hand, even though the patient was a beggar. Christ did this, first, to show his power by making a blind man see through a method that seemed more likely to make a seeing man blind. Putting clay on the eyes would close them, not open them. God often works by opposites, and he often makes people feel their blindness before he gives them sight.

Second, this pointed back to the one who first made man from clay. Christ was there when God made the world, both the greater world and man, the smaller world. Man was formed from clay, and here Christ used the same material to give sight to the body that had first been used to give it life.

Third, it pictured the opening of the mind’s eyes by the grace of Jesus Christ. The gospel is meant to open people’s eyes (Acts 26:18). The healing salve for this work comes from Christ’s own making. It is not made of spittle, but of his blood, the blood and water that came from his pierced side. We must come to Christ for this eye salve (Revelation 3:18). He alone is able to make it, and he alone has been appointed to do so (Luke 4:18).

The means used in this work often seem weak and unlikely, and they only become effective through Christ’s power. When a dark world needed light and blind souls needed their eyes opened, God chose foolish, weak, and despised things to do the work. Christ’s method is to first make people feel their blindness, as this poor man did when his eyes were covered with clay, and then to give them sight. Paul, at his conversion, was blinded for three days, and then the scales fell from his eyes. The way to gain spiritual wisdom is to become a fool so that you may become wise (1 Corinthians 3:18). We must be made uneasy about our blindness, as this man was, and then healed.

Then came the directions given to the man (John 9:7). His doctor said, “Go, wash in the pool of Siloam.” The washing itself was not what healed him. Christ gave the command to test his obedience and to see whether he would follow, in simple faith, the order of one he barely knew. He also wanted to test how much he cared about the tradition of the elders, which may have taught him, as it taught many blind people who were still very knowledgeable, that it was not lawful to wash the eyes, even with spittle for medicine, on the Sabbath, much less to go to a pool and wash there.

Christ also used this to show the way of spiritual healing. Even though the result comes only from his power and grace, there is still a duty for us to do. Go search the Scriptures, attend the ministry, and spend time with the wise. That is like washing in the pool of Siloam. Promised grace must be expected in the path of God’s appointed means. The waters of baptism were like the pool of Siloam for those who had been brought up in darkness. There they might not only wash and be clean, but also wash and have their eyes opened. For that reason, those who were baptized were said to be enlightened, and the early church called baptism enlightenment.

About the pool of Siloam, notice three things. First, it was supplied with water from Mount Zion, so these were the waters of the sanctuary (Psalm 46:4), living waters that brought healing (Ezekiel 47:9). Second, the waters of Siloam had long pointed to the throne and kingdom of David’s house, and so to the Messiah (Isaiah 8:6). The Jews refused the waters of Shiloah, meaning Christ’s teaching and law, and instead valued the traditions of the elders. Christ was testing this man to see whether he would cling to the waters of Siloam or not. Third, the gospel writer notes the meaning of the name, which means “sent.” Christ is often called the One sent by God, the Messenger of the covenant (Malachi 3:1). So when Christ sent him to the pool of Siloam, he was in effect sending him to himself, for Christ is everything in the healing of souls. As prophet, Christ directs us to himself as priest. Go, wash in the fountain that has been opened, a fountain of life, not a pool.

The man obeyed these directions. He went on his way, probably led by a friend, or maybe he knew Jerusalem well enough to find his way alone. When people lose one sense, the other senses often become sharper in a surprising way. He washed his eyes. Perhaps the disciples, or someone standing nearby, told him that the one who had sent him was Jesus, the man he had heard so much about. Otherwise, he would hardly have gone on what looked like a foolish errand. He went in trust in Christ’s power, and he also obeyed Christ’s command.

Then the cure took place: he came back seeing. There is more glory in this short story, "He went and washed, and came seeing," than in Caesar’s boast, "I came, I saw, I conquered." When the clay was washed off his eyes, every other barrier went with it too. In the same way, when the pains and struggles of the new birth are over, and the fear and sorrow of conviction pass, sin’s chains fall off, and a bright light and freedom follow.

This shows, first, the power of Christ. What cannot he do, who not only did this miracle, but did it in this way? With a bit of clay on each eye, and then washed away again, he cured a blindness that the most skilled eye doctor, using the finest tools, could not remove. Surely this is the promised one, because through him the blind receive sight. It also shows the value of faith and obedience. This man let Christ do what he wanted and did what Christ told him to do, and so he was healed. Those who want Christ to heal them must let him rule them.

He returned from the pool to his neighbors and acquaintances, amazed and amazing to them, and he came seeing. This also pictures the good that gracious souls find when they attend the means of grace as Christ has appointed them. They go to the pool of Siloam weak, and come away strengthened. They go in doubt, and come away settled. They go mourning, and come away rejoicing. They go trembling, and come away triumphant. They go blind, and come away seeing, and they come away singing (Isaiah 52:8).