John 9

John 9:1-41

The Gospel According to John John 9:1-41 - John 10:1-21 John 9:1-38. This paragraph opens with the words, “And as He passed by.” The time note is quite indefinite. This incident may have occurred immediately our Lord left the Temple on the occasion, the record of which is in the previous chapter; but more likely somewhat later, for then we are told that He hid Himself.

The whole story begins at verse one in chapter nine, and ends at verse twenty-one in chapter ten. Our present consideration takes us as far as the thirty-eighth verse of chapter nine (John 9:1-38).

The whole story moves in the same atmosphere in which we have been following our Lord, specially in these more recent studies in connection with the feast of Tabernacles. It is that of organized religion in opposition to Jesus, and of Jesus in opposition “to “organized religion.

This is the story of the seventh great sign in John’s selection, the penultimate sign, the eighth and last being that of the raising of Lazarus.

This sign led to an action on the part of Jesus of distinct rupture with organized religion, as it was opposed to Him, and His setting up of a new economy. This was distinctly a dividing line, a crisis. He did something here which He had never done before.

The paragraph has four movements. The record of the sign, in verses one to seven (John 9:1-7); the discussion following it, in verses eight to twenty-three (John 9:8-23); the excommunication of the man by organized religion, in verses twenty-four to thirty-four (John 9:24-34); and finally the consequent action of Jesus, in verses thirty-five to thirty-eight (John 9:35-38).

The sign itself. “And as He passed by.” That is no uncommon statement. Our Lord was always doing things apparently incidentally. He found His opportunities everywhere. “He saw a man blind from birth.” John surely was intentionally superlative in his selection of these “powers,” which were also therefore “wonders,” but which he never called “powers” or “wonders,” but always “signs.” This is the only case on record of our Lord’s dealing with congenital disease. There may have been many others; but this is the only one recorded. This man was born blind; he had never looked on the shimmer of Galilee, had never seen the flowers decking the sod. This the disciples recognized when they said, “Who did sin, this man, or his parents, that he should be born blind?” It was a superlative case.

John significantly says that “He saw a man,” and “His disciples asked Him.” Quite evidently they saw the eyes of Jesus resting on this man; and immediately they asked the question. In all probability they had often seen the man, because he was gaining his living by receiving alms. He was living on charity. The eyes of Christ resting on the man, attracted the disciples. Immediately they asked a question, and stated a problem. What then was their problem? The problem of a man born blind, suffering disability. Their philosophy of life was that all disability was the result of sin, and when they looked at that man, a problem was created. They said, “Rabbi, who did sin . . . that this man should be born blind?” They illustrated their enquiry by making two suggestions, the only two which occurred to them. They said, “Who did sin, this man, or his parents, that he should be born blind?” It was a startling question. It would seem as though they had some belief in the pre-existence of the soul. “Who did sin?” Had this man sinned before he was born into this world?

That was one suggestion. Was this disability the result of his own action in some previous existence? Or was his blindness the result of the sin of his parents?

The answer of Jesus is arresting. He said, “Neither did this man sin, nor his parents.” Thus He dismissed their two suggestions. What did Jesus say about the pre-existence of the soul? Nothing. He ignored the suggestion; “Neither did this man sin, nor his parents.” Therefore no argument, either way, can be based upon this story.

How then did He reply to their enquiry? Let us look at the passage as it appears in our versions, from the standpoint of punctuation.

“Jesus answered, Neither did this man sin, nor his-parents; but that the works of God should be made manifest in him. We must work the works of Him that sent Me, while it is day.” If that punctuation is to be accepted, then Jesus meant that this man was not born blind because of his own sin or his parents’, but in order to give God an opportunity to show what He could do with a blind man. I absolutely refuse to accept that interpretation.

Some years ago when I was facing that paragraph, and feeling that the thing suggested by that reading was absolutely foreign to the truth about God, I ventured to repunctuate it. Let us read it as thus changed.

“Neither did this man sin, nor his parents. But that the works of God should be made manifest in him, we must work the works of Him that sent Me, while it is day.” I sent this form of punctuation to an eminent Greek scholar, and I asked him to express an opinion. Let me read his reply, a reply characterized by proper caution, and yet revealing a very clear principle.

‘‘He would be an exceedingly bold scholar who would undertake to prove the punctuation should be one way or the other on the mere ground of the Greek itself. It seems as if the question would have finally to be decided on doctrinal grounds, for it is plain that the difference in punctuation of the verse would change the meaning altogether. If one reading would be more in spirit with the tenor of Christ’s teachings, as seems quite probable, that would be quite naturally preferable.” That settled it for me. What Jesus said was, I am not here to answer that kind of question. It may be perfectly justifiable. I am not here to explain the mystery of evil. I am not here to solve these problems. I am here to remove the cause of them. “We must work the works of Him that sent Me while it is day.”

Involved in that answer is a revelation that blindness from birth is not the will of God for any man. But the mission of Christ was not that of solving the problem, but that of removing the disability which created the problem.

Then the act. He made clay with spittle, and anointed the eyes of the man, and told him to go and wash. This was an occasion when He made use of means. The particular value of the means I do not pretend to know. We do know that spittle was looked upon at the time as being remedial. Whether our Lord was accommodating His method for the sake of those around Him at the time, I cannot say. Sometimes He removed disability without any means. At other times He used means. That illuminates the whole region in which we discuss healing. Without means, or with means; it is always God Who heals. He did not explain. After the anointing he was to go and wash. He obeyed, and came back seeing.

Now immediately discussion arose. First of all we have the question among his neighbours. Evidently he went back to his own neighbourhood, and they were amazed, and their amazement created uncertainty as to the identity of the man. As we pass over the ground, let us watch the man, growing in apprehension. His first answer was perfectly simple and convincing. They said “It is he,” but some said, “No, but he is like him”; and he settled the whole thing when he said, “I am he.” I am indeed the man who sat and begged, and made my living on charity. I am looking at you. I have seen trees to-day for the first time. He told them how it was done. We see how little he knew; “A man called Jesus.” He knew that much, and that was his first witness.

Then they took him before the religious authorities, and at once we see the reason. This thing had been done on the Sabbath day. This question of the Sabbath persists all through. It began in chapter five, when Jesus had caused a man to carry his mattress on the Sabbath day. Their hostility was stirred, because they saw a man carrying his mattress on the Sabbath day, and failed to see the man who carried it, who had been a derelict for thirty-eight years, and was no longer a derelict. Here we have the same thing.

A man born blind, his eyes were open, he was looking at them; but failing to see him, they were concerned with the method. This Man made clay on the Sabbath day. In the Traditions of the rulers one thing specifically forbidden was to make clay on the Sabbath day. That is what Jesus had done. That is all they saw. The man had his eyes open.

They could not see that. They saw the violation of the Sabbath.

Arraigned before the Pharisees, this man came to the second stage in his development. They said, “What sayest thou of Him?” He replied, “He is a prophet.” Thus the apprehension of the thing that had happened to him was getting hold of the man himself. When they badgered him, he came to the conviction that the Man named Jesus must be a prophet.

Then perplexed, the rulers called the parents. The story of the parents may be dismissed very briefly. It is quite natural. They knew perfectly well, as John tells us, that it had been decided by the authorities, that anyone who claimed that Jesus was Messiah should be excommunicated, put out of the synagogue. The terror of that was upon them. They nevertheless corroborated the fact of the wonder wrought. Two things they were certain about. One was that he was their son. The second was that he had been blind, and now saw. They were not prepared to say how. They referred the authorities back to the boy, “He is of age, ask him.”

Then came the re-arraignment of the man. First they laid on him the charge, “Give glory to God, we know that this man is a sinner.” Here if we want to understand the answer of the man, we must put ourselves imaginatively into his place. He had never seen his mother’s face till that day. Some Man named Jesus had put clay on his eyes, and sent him to Siloam to wash, and he went and washed, and he saw for the first time. And now these men in authority solemnly charged him, “Give glory to God; we know that this man is a sinner.” His first answer was a restatement of the fact, and a refusal to discuss the question raised as to whether Jesus was a sinner. “Whether He be a sinner, I know not; one thing I know, that, whereas I was blind, now I see.”

That body of religious rulers could not get beyond that. The fact was attested by the man himself, and by his parents.

What did they then do? They went back to the old position, and said, How did He do it? Again they turned from the fact clearly established, which ought to have arrested them, and settled for ever their attitude towards Jesus. But no, they went back, and wanted to hear again how, because in the how lay their cause of complaint, that He had broken Sabbath.

Then the man became satirical, and out of patience with these rulers. He was gaining ground. He said, I have told you. Would you like to hear it again? Then came that thrust. I wonder from what part of his soul it came. “Would ye also become His disciples?” Why that “also”? This man was finding that he could not get away from the Man Who had opened his eyes, that whatever else was going to happen, something was happening as to his relation with the One Who had given him his sight. “Would ye also become His disciples?”

Then they were angry, “they reviled him”; they claimed to be the disciples of Moses, and repudiated Jesus.

This reviling carried the man further. He went beyond something he had said a moment or two before, “Whether He be a sinner, I know not.” He began to think aloud, thought it out for himself. Sinner t Did I say I did not know? “If this Man were not from God, He could do nothing.” The man is growing in apprehension.

Then they excommunicated him, they cast him out. Personally I am convinced that that meant literal excommunication. There are those who think that it meant they put him out of the synagogue. John had carefully said, “The Jews had agreed already, that if any man should confess Him to be the Christ, he should be put out of the synagogue.” The putting out there, means excommunication in the full sense. So they cut that man off. From that time he had no right to cross the threshold of temple or synagogue.

From that moment he was cut off from all the privileges of his religion, excluded from the society of devout and decent souls. It was no light matter. Organized religion had excommunicated a man, excommunicated him because having received this great gift of sight, he had grown in his testimony and his understanding and his conviction concerning the Man Who had done it, along a line so severely logical that one can hardly understand how any man could fail to follow him. He had come to that position of certainty that the One Who did the thing was of God. On that basis they excommunicated him.

So we come to the action of Jesus. “Jesus heard that they had cast him out,” and Jesus found him. Let us attempt to visualize this thing in its completeness, not merely as the historic and incidental, but from the standpoint of the economy of God. On the one hand we see the great economy of the past; the stately and wondrous economy, the Divinely arranged and appointed economy, stretching away back to Moses, and coming down through the centuries, with all the rites and ceremonials Divinely appointed. At this moment it was moribund, decadent, dead. No breath of spiritual life was in it. This moribund and decadent and dead organization of religion had excommunicated one man, a blind beggar as he was, but who was now a seeing man.

Then Jesus found him. Thus I see something happening, in which there is a rupture between the Divinely arranged religion that fails, and the economy of God that never fails.

Jesus found him, and finding him He said to him, “Dost thou believe on the Son of God?” At this point a question arises. Did He say “Son of God,” or “Son of man”? Some of the old manuscripts read one way, and some another; and there has been much discussion as to which is correct. It reads here in verse thirty-five in the Revised, “Dost thou believe on the Son of God?” and in the margin, “Many ancient authorities read, Son of man.” I do not find myself able to make any dogmatic assertion, but personally I do not think He said, “Son of God”; I think He said, “Son of man.” That was His name for Himself. It was the name that linked Him with humanity, but He ever employed it in such connections as reveal His relationship with something infinitely profounder. He used a name that marked a position, a relationship, a name that in some senses was an interpretation of personality; “Dost thou believe on the Son of man, or Son of God?” as the case may be.

The man replied “And who is He, Lord, that I may believe on Him?” Now mark the claim, positive, and unequivocal, “Thou hast both seen Him, and He it is that speaketh with thee.” Then all the doubts vanished, and whichever title was used, He had gained the soul of the man, and he said, “Lord, I believe. And he worshipped Him.”

It has been said that the word “worshipped” here may mean simply the rendering of homage to a creature. That is entirely gratuitous and false. That word is very rare. It only occurs in chapter four, here, and again in chapter twelve; and it is only used of the attitude of the soul in the presence of God.

Observe the ascending scale in this man’s consciousness of Jesus. “A man called Jesus”; “He is a prophet”; “If this Man were not from God, He could do nothing”; “Lord, I believe. And he worshipped Him.”

Thus the scene ends with Jesus receiving the worship of a man. An excommunicated man, a man put out of the synagogue, is received into relationship with God, in the act of his submission and his worship.

There is tremendous significance in the incident. The whole system of Judaism as it then was, is seen blind, so blind that it does not discover the value of the wonder wrought, or understand it as a sign; blinded by its loyalty to technicalities and traditions and minutiae, which only blast the soul, apart from life. That system put this man out. Then we see two people; the Word incarnate, the only begotten Son of the Father, full of grace and truth, and this excommunicated man. Jesus receiving this man’s worship. In that moment the new economy was born.

What happened that day was not, in the last analysis, that organized religion excommunicated a man. It was that a man in fellowship with Jesus, excommunicated organized religion.

Immediately upon that, our Lord proceeded to interpret what He had done, and we have the next two great signs in the realm of words, “I am the Door,” “I am the Good Shepherd.” To this we pass in our next study. John 9:39-41 - John 10:1-21. The paragraph opens with the words, “And Jesus said,” following closely upon the record of the act of worship rendered to our Lord by the man whose eyes had been opened, and contains His teaching resulting therefrom.

In the course of this teaching we have two of the signs in the realm of words, two of the “I am’s” of Jesus, “I am the Door,” and “I am the Good Shepherd”; and it is important that we should see the significance of the things said in the light of the things done. Bishop Westcott very beautifully says,

“The separation between the old and the new was now consummated, when the rejected of the Jews sank prostrate at the feet of the Son of man.”

In the paragraph there are two movements; first a general statement from the lips of our Lord in verses thirty-nine to forty-one in chapter nine (John 9:39-41); and then a particular application of that statement in the first twenty-one verses of chapter ten (John 10:1-21).

In the presence of the man, excommunicated by organized religion, and received by Himself, He said:

“For judgment came I into this world, that they which see not may see; and that they which see may become blind.” When talking to Nicodemus He had said that He was not sent to judge the world (John 3:17); in His teaching He had said “I judge no man” (John 8:15); yet now He declared He came for judgment. There is no contradiction whatever between the two statements. The word He employed here, krima, not krisis, describes a result, rather than an action.

He had not come to act in judgment, but His coming did create a crisis.

The nature of that judgment He then explained; “That they which see not may see; and that they which see may become blind.” “Those who see not, may see.” “Those who see not,” are those who are conscious of blindness. He had come that such might have sight. There was the blind man. He knew he was blind; and he had received his sight. That was a physical fact, and our Lord here employed the physical to illustrate the spiritual. In the case of that man the physical wonder had been coincident with the spiritual.

He had been spiritually blind, but he had come to a clear vision. At the beginning he had said, “A man named Jesus”; then he had said, “He is a prophet”; later he had declared that He must be “a man from God”; and finally he had worshipped Him. The man born blind was conscious of his blindness, and had received his sight. On the other hand, those who saw, that is those who claimed to see, claimed to know, these critics round about our Lord, were unconscious of their blindness; and Christ said His coming, in their case, did but seal their blindness.

The same principle is found in other parts of our Lord’s teaching. In Matthew eleven we have that remarkable ejaculation of Jesus in the midst of difficult conditions when He said,

“I thank Thee, O Father, Lord of heaven and earth, that Thou didst hide these things from the wise and understanding,”- that is, the clever people that think they see,-

“and didst reveal them to babes.” The Pharisees immediately raised a protest. “Those of the Pharisees which were with Him.” That is an arresting phrase. It may refer to those who had professed to believe in Him, or it may merely mean those who were near Him at the time. If the former, they were still claiming to have received Him and accepted His teaching; and so protesting against the suggestion. His reply shows that their belief had no value. It may be that the reference is to those who were with Him at the moment. In either case it was a question of protest. “Are we also blind?” Whoever these Pharisees were, it is evident that they had caught the spiritual significance of what He was saying.

His answer to them is revealing. “If ye were blind, ye would have no sin.” He virtually charged them with willful rejection. If you were really blind, if you really had not apprehended the things I have been saying, and the teaching I have been giving, you would have no sin; “but now ye say, We see; your sin remaineth.” I cannot read that without realizing that these Pharisees whomsoever they may have been, had seen clearly the spiritual significance of His teaching. If you were blind, you would have no sin; but because you have apprehended, and are still rejecting the thing you have seen, “your sin remaineth.”

Having made this general statement, and replied to the enquiry of protest, He went straight on, and again employing that re-arresting formula of speech, “Verily, verily,” He gave a particular application and interpretation of what He had said in His general statement.

He first gave them a parable. “This parable spake Jesus unto them “(verse six). The picture is peculiarly Eastern, and we must grasp the Eastern significance if we are to follow the personal claim and application which our Lord made. The picture is that of the shepherd and the fold and the flock. Those were figures of speech in constant use. The shepherd always represented kingship, full and final authority. It was Homer who said, “All kings are shepherds of the people.” That saying embodies the Eastern idea. The shepherd is the king, the king is the shepherd; and his authority is based upon his care for the sheep.

The fold represented the whole system of the Kingdom over which the Shepherd reigned. The flock referred to all those over whom He reigned. That is the picture which Jesus employed in illustration of the new order He had come to establish. Then He said, “I am the Door.” The door is the way by which the sheep enter the fold. They had cast that man out of one fold. Jesus took him into another. The door stands for the way of entrance, and the shepherd represents the authority over all who enter by the door. By authority they had excluded a man. By authority Christ received him. This interprets the value of the twofold claim He now made. He said, “I am the Door,” I am the Way into the true order of life. In that connection He said, “All that came before Me are thieves and robbers.” That has caused a good deal of trouble to some people. Was He calling John the Baptist, and the prophets, and Moses thieves and robbers? Obviously not. He was referring to all who had made that claim, any false christs who had appeared, any who were claiming to have the right to admit men into the final order of life.

Thus He stood at the parting of the ways, saying, “I am the Door,” thus making an emphatic claim, that through Him, and through Him alone, men should enter into the final order, in which there is perfect liberty. They “shall go in and out.” Moreover, there is perfect sustenance. They “shall find pasture.” These were poetic and glorious references to the breadth and beauty and beneficence of the new order which He had come to establish. Mark the universality of intention; If any man, any man, enter by this way, come to Me, he shall find his way into this true order.

And so we come to the fifth “I am,” “I am the Shepherd, the Good.” That is to put it in the Greek form. I like to keep the Greek idiom, because it suggests a contrast. “I am the Shepherd, the Good.” “All that came before Me were thieves and robbers. . . . The thief cometh not, but that he may steal and kill and destroy.” In contrast, “I am the Shepherd, the Good.” Then He interpreted the goodness. He revealed why He is “the Good.” “The good Shepherd layeth down His life for the sheep.” That is, the Good Shepherd dies for the sheep. Presently He repeated the statement, but with a different application, as He said, “I lay down My life for the sheep.” This means more than death; it declares that the life laid down is placed at the disposal of the sheep. First, I lay down My life for them, that is on their behalf.

Secondly, I lay down My life for them, that is that they may possess it. He died in conflict with the wolf; and then through that dying He released His life, that the sheep might share it, and by sharing, possess that which would make them also more than conquerors over the destroying wolf.

In that connection He revealed the scope of His purpose. “Other sheep I have, which are not of this fold; them also I must bring, and they shall hear My voice, and they shall become one flock, one shepherd.” That was the larger outlook. In chapter eleven we shall find the same idea in a most arresting and remarkable comment from the pen of John. Caiaphas was talking to the rulers about Jesus, and said among other things, “It is expedient for you that one man should die for the people, and that the whole nation perish not.” That was the language of devilish and damnable policy. Right there John writes this remarkable thing. “Now this he said not of himself; but being high priest that year, he prophesied that Jesus should die for the nation; and not for the nation only, but that He might also gather together into one the children of God that are scattered abroad.” Which means that Caiaphas said more, and better, than he knew. While he uttered the language of political expediency, he declared a profound truth. “Other sheep I have, which are not of this fold.” “He should die, .. . that He might gather together into one the children of God that are scattered abroad. In connection with this interpretation of the Good Shepherd He made claims which are superhuman, and reveal the perfect fellowship existing between Himself and His Father. This fact of fellowship is expressed in the words: “Therefore doth the Father love Me, because I lay down My life that I may take it again.” Then followed words which are superhuman. “No one taketh it away from Me, but I lay it down of Myself.” Nothing He ever said was more stupendous than that. “No one taketh My life away from Me.” But they did, didn’t they? Never. All they did was to destroy His body, as He said they would. They never touched His deepest life. But that deepest life was laid down.

There, is at once the mystery, and the heart of the atonement. The dying for the sheep was voluntary on His part, not compelled even by human malice. “No one taketh it away from Me. I lay it down of Myself.” That is the only point in all the process of this Gospel that Jesus claimed to do anything of Himself. But what follows reveals that in this also He was acting with His Father. “I have authority to lay it down, and I have authority to take it again.” What authority? “This commandment received I from My Father.” So there is no contradiction. He was acting of Himself in dying, in order to the impartation of life to the flock; but the authority for the action was received directly from His Father.

This discourse of Jesus produced division, sharp and bitter. Some of them were so angry, that they said, Why do you listen to Him, He has a demon and is mad. Others were conscious of something other, and said, No demon-possessed man speaks like that; no demon-possessed man opened the eyes of the blind.

The whole story is revealing. We have seen a man excommunicated by the old order, the Divinely created order. The economy of the past was an economy from God. But that which is Divinely created, if it loses the Divine breath, God rejects. His own arrangements, when rendered null and void, He sweeps away. “He taketh away the first, that He may establish the second.” Why? Because the first has failed, and can make nothing perfect.

Here was the point in the ministry of Jesus, where, by an action, He opened the door of the new economy, and assumed authority over it. That poor blind beggar was barren of spiritual apprehension, Jesus opened his eyes, and by that act in the physical, led him processionally to the recognition of Who the Man was that had done it, so that he rendered worship to Him. He received that worship, and by that act opened the door of the new economy. The man now entered the new order through the Door; and from that moment he was under the true authority, the authority of the Shepherd Himself.

These two “I am’s,” the Door and the Good Shepherd, are interlocked in a wonderful way in the light of Eastern life. It was once my privilege to cross the Atlantic with Sir George Adam Smith. I shall never forget the fascination of that voyage, as he talked of those Eastern lands he knew so well. One story he told me was this. He was one day travelling with a guide, and came across a shepherd and his sheep. He fell into conversation with him.

The man showed him the fold into which the sheep were led at night. It consisted of four walls, with a way in. Sir George said to him, “That is where they go at night?” “Yes,” said the shepherd, “and when they are in there, they are perfectly safe.” “But there is no door,” said Sir George. “I am the door,” said the shepherd. He was not a Christian man, he was not speaking in the language of the New Testament. He was speaking from the Arab shepherd’s standpoint. Sir George looked at him and said, “What do you mean by the door?” Said the shepherd, “When the light has gone, and all the sheep are inside, I lie in that open space, and no sheep ever goes out but across my body, and no wolf comes in unless he crosses my body; I am the door.”

Let that illuminate these words of Jesus.