1 As he passed by, he saw a man blind from birth. 2 And his disciples asked him, “Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?” (Jn. 9:1-2 ESV)
Sometimes, when darkness falls in life, all we can see is the darkness. We are often blinded by the darkness. When faced with situations of suffering, it’s often difficult for us to see any meaning or purpose in it.
That was true in this case. This man has been blind from birth. And when the disciples see it, all they can see is darkness. They want to analyze it. They want to scrutinize it. They don’t even really see the man. They just see his condition. His suffering. They are blinded by the darkness.
We are as well.
About a month ago I talked to a woman named Jane. Jane was still blinded by a darkness that fell thirty years ago, when she was in eighth grade. A family member began sexually abusing her. This went on for months. She suffered in silence, unable to tell anyone. Then, mercifully, that family member moved away. It seemed her nightmare was over.
But not long afterwards, a youth minister attempted to sexually abuse her. She told her preacher and her elders. But they wouldn’t believe her. The trauma of the attack was compounded by the trauma of the denial. Finally, however, she was believed. But so much darkness had fallen that it could not be escaped. And here she was, thirty years later, still blinded by it.
“Where was God?” she asked me. “What was God doing?” she asked me.
Sometimes, we are blinded by the darkness.
3 Jesus answered, “It was not that this man sinned, or his parents, but that the works of God might be displayed in him. 4 We must work the works of him who sent me while it is day; night is coming, when no one can work. 5 As long as I am in the world, I am the light of the world.” 6 Having said these things, he spit on the ground and made mud with the saliva. Then he anointed the man’s eyes with the mud 7 and said to him, “Go, wash in the pool of Siloam” (which means Sent). So he went and washed and came back seeing. 8 The neighbors and those who had seen him before as a beggar were saying, “Is this not the man who used to sit and beg?” 9 Some said, “It is he.” Others said, “No, but he is like him.” He kept saying, “I am the man.” 10 So they said to him, “Then how were your eyes opened?” 11 He answered, “The man called Jesus made mud and anointed my eyes and said to me, ‘Go to Siloam and wash.’ So I went and washed and received my sight.” 12 They said to him, “Where is he?” He said, “I do not know.” 13 They brought to the Pharisees the man who had formerly been blind. 14 Now it was a Sabbath day when Jesus made the mud and opened his eyes. 15 So the Pharisees again asked him how he had received his sight. And he said to them, “He put mud on my eyes, and I washed, and I see.” 16 Some of the Pharisees said, “This man is not from God, for he does not keep the Sabbath.” But others said, “How can a man who is a sinner do such signs?” And there was a division among them. 17 So they said again to the blind man, “What do you say about him, since he has opened your eyes?” He said, “He is a prophet.” 18 The Jews did not believe that he had been blind and had received his sight, until they called the parents of the man who had received his sight 19 and asked them, “Is this your son, who you say was born blind? How then does he now see?” 20 His parents answered, “We know that this is our son and that he was born blind. 21 But how he now sees we do not know, nor do we know who opened his eyes. Ask him; he is of age. He will speak for himself.” 22 (His parents said these things because they feared the Jews, for the Jews had already agreed that if anyone should confess Jesus[b] to be Christ, he was to be put out of the synagogue.) 23 Therefore his parents said, “He is of age; ask him.” 24 So for the second time they called the man who had been blind and said to him, “Give glory to God. We know that this man is a sinner.” 25 He answered, “Whether he is a sinner I do not know. One thing I do know, that though I was blind, now I see.” 26 They said to him, “What did he do to you? How did he open your eyes?” 27 He answered them, “I have told you already, and you would not listen. Why do you want to hear it again? Do you also want to become his disciples?” 28 And they reviled him, saying, “You are his disciple, but we are disciples of Moses. 29 We know that God has spoken to Moses, but as for this man, we do not know where he comes from.” 30 The man answered, “Why, this is an amazing thing! You do not know where he comes from, and yet he opened my eyes. 31 We know that God does not listen to sinners, but if anyone is a worshiper of God and does his will, God listens to him. 32 Never since the world began has it been heard that anyone opened the eyes of a man born blind. 33 If this man were not from God, he could do nothing.” 34 They answered him, “You were born in utter sin, and would you teach us?” And they cast him out. 35 Jesus heard that they had cast him out, and having found him he said, “Do you believe in the Son of Man?” 36 He answered, “And who is he, sir, that I may believe in him?” 37 Jesus said to him, “You have seen him, and it is he who is speaking to you.” 38 He said, “Lord, I believe,” and he worshiped him. 39 Jesus said, “For judgment I came into this world, that those who do not see may see, and those who see may become blind.” 40 Some of the Pharisees near him heard these things, and said to him, “Are we also blind?” 41 Jesus said to them, “If you were blind, you would have no guilt; but now that you say, ‘We see,’ your guilt remains. (Jn. 9:3-41 ESV)
Jesus makes an astonishing claim in this story:
“It was not that this man sinned, or his parents, but that the works of God might be displayed in him.” (Jn. 9:3 ESV)
We may be blinded by the darkness. But God, Jesus says, shines in the darkness. The work of God will be displayed in the suffering of this man. The whole story reveals how God’s work shines in the darkness. Jesus refuses to directly address the question of causation – where this darkness came from. Instead, he points to what God is doing in the midst of it. God is shining. God is working through this man’s suffering.
I asked Jane if she could see anything in her darkness. Anything of God at all in the darkness. Eventually, she said, “Well, I did emerge from that experience a deeply engaged mother. I determined to be as involved in my daughter’s life as I possibly could.” The more she thought about it, the more she saw how that suffering had shaped her own approach to motherhood, in a positive way.
I asked her to keep looking. Could she see anything else of the work of God in the midst of her darkness? “Well,” she said, “I guess God helped me to become a forgiving person through that. Because I did forgive that family member. And I did forgive that youth minister.” That experience had forced her to face the toughest test of forgiveness. That experienced had forged her as a truly forgiving person.
I asked her to keep looking. Was there any other work God had done in the midst of all of that? “Well,” she said, “I guess God used it to make me a courageous person.” She described how, when that youth minister forced himself on her, she found the courage to push him away, and to tell, and keep telling others, until people believed her. She’s ordinarily quiet and shy. It took tremendous inner resources for her to do that. The courage she found that day continued to display itself in her now as an adult.
And I suppose what struck me most was something that only occurred to me after I left Jane and got home. What struck me was that here Jane was, having survived this abuse in which she wondered “Where was God?” and yet I met her in a program which trains people to help others answer that very question. Jane and I met because we’re both enrolled in training which enables us to help others see how God is at work in their lives. It’s called Spiritual Direction. And the whole point of Spiritual Direction is to learn skills to help other people gain a greater sense of what God’s up to in their lives. Although there were still times when Jane wondered where God was thirty years ago, she had seen enough of him in the darkness to know that helping others see God in the darkness is what she wanted to do with her life.
Sometimes, when darkness falls in our lives, we are blinded by it. But the truth is that God shines in the darkness.
One of our elders, Gary Blume, was recently with his wife Marie visiting their son in Brazil. Gary fell ill and had to be taken to the hospital. He was bleeding heavily. He lost about thirty percent of his body’s blood. The doctors in Brazil were having difficulty diagnosing the problem and treating it. Finally, Gary and Marie were able to get Gary well enough to fly back to Memphis. Doctors here discovered a tumor in Gary’s bladder. Surgery was booked immediately for last Wednesday. The evening before the surgery I visited Gary and Marie in their home. I asked them this question: “How have you seen God in the midst of all of this?” And they didn’t say, “God? God has been absent this whole time!” I wouldn’t have blamed them for thinking that. After all, it had been a pretty dark time. It was still dark. But instead, they talked of how God had been clearly seen through the way a nurse had taken an important step in Brazil that saved Gary’s life; how God had been seen in the way he kept Gary alive during the flight home; how God had been seen in the quick diagnosis and surgery here. It’s been a dark time for sure. But Gary and Marie have seen God shine in the dark. Gary’s not out of the woods yet. But we can be sure that God is still there, still working.
It’s important to remember one more thing rooted in this story: It takes time to see in the darkness. We are often blinded by the darkness. God does shine in the darkness. But it usually takes time to see in the darkness. That’s true for the religious leaders in this story. This man is healed before them but they can’t bring themselves to believe it was God who did the healing. They can’t see God at work here.
Limited sight is also the case for the man who was healed. His eyes work great. But there are other forms of sight that take awhile to grow. For example, John shows just how long it takes for the man born blind to see who Jesus truly is. Notice how his perspective on Jesus, his view of Jesus, changes through the story:
- “The man called Jesus made mud and anointed my eyes and said to me, ‘Go to Siloam and wash.’” (v. 11)
- “He is a prophet.” (v. 17);
- “If this man were not from God, he could do nothing.” (v. 33)
- He said, “Lord, I believe,” and he worshiped him. (v. 38)
It takes time to see in the darkness. But if we’ll give it time, if we’ll be patient, sometimes we’ll see God most clearly even when it’s most dark.
I’d like to close this morning by letting you hear from Laurel Gearson. Laurel recently shared a testimony of how she has come to see in the dark. For many years Laurel has been a member of our Praise Team. But a few years ago a health issue forced her to stop singing. It was a dark time. But listen to what she saw there in the darkness:
It’s been years since I’ve sang soprano.
No matter how many times I say that in my head, it never feels right.
Years? Really? Wasn’t it just yesterday that I was on the stage at church
realizing that I wasn’t hitting the same notes I’d just hit at practice?
There was a ticklish feeling in my throat. Thought it was a cold coming
on and hoped I’d recover quickly.
It’s been literally years since I’ve sang soprano.
Doctors have theories about what happened. They’re “pretty positive” they
know the cause. But no one is 100% sure. Therefore, it continues to be a
mystery.
When I first realized this wasn’t a cold, I thought it was just a
temporary setback. I’d be back on the praise team in no time. Days turned
to weeks and my voice continued to fall farther from soprano. I went to a
really great ENT knowing that he, without a doubt, would be able to heal
me. Weeks turned to months, and my voice went even weaker. So I went to
therapy convinced that this would do the trick. That’s what it’s for,
after all. You get injured, physical therapy brings you back. Months
turned to years, and producing any sound while attempting to sing was
nearly impossible.
During this time, I’d sometimes pray about it. “God, I know you can heal
me. You gave me this talent! Surely you’ll fix me so I can get back to
the praise team!” That’s when I realized that I was in denial. After
denial, anger set in. Whenever I thought about it, I’d send angry prayers
to God. “Why are you punishing me? What did I do to deserve this?” Anger
gave way to pain, and I stopped practicing with the praise team. I
stopped the prayers, and was convinced I’d never sing again. When people
would ask me about it, I’d say the right things. “God has a plan for me!”
or “I’ve accepted it!” were the most common answers. But the truth was,
it hurt. It was like being told I couldn’t worship anymore. I didn’t want
to go to church and face the fact that I couldn’t sing the songs. It just
wasn’t fair.
My plan was to move on. Stop thinking about it. But that proved to be
impossible. I knew things would never be the same, but I really wanted to
sing. I went back upstairs one Wednesday night and sat down in an
unfamiliar spot. I was with the tenors. It wasn’t terrible, but it was
definitely harder than I’d thought it would be. It had been so long since
I’d sung anything so my voice was weak. Each note was like tearing my
throat in two. I left feeling very sorry for myself.
I thought about giving up. Luckily, my husband never gave up on me. He
listened to my frustrations, comforted me when I cried. And through it
all, he always supported me when I talked about giving it another try.
Fortunately, that’s what I did. I kept sitting with those tenors. They
welcomed me. They encouraged me. They taught me the songs, took time to
go over notes that I stumbled on. They listened when I was upset, but
they didn’t pity me. And I finally stopped pitying myself.
After many, many, many weeks of practice, I noticed I was improving a
bit. Songs were getting easier. Each week my throat hurt less and less. I
began to have fun being a tenor, and looked forward to Wednesday nights.
But the challenges didn’t stop there. Before I realized it, I had agreed
to sing tenor one Sunday morning with the team, but made sure it was the
early service so I’d have the help of another tenor. I just knew I could
never go at it alone. One Sunday morning became two, then three, and I
found myself looking for Sunday mornings that needed tenors. But I still
relied on someone else to sing with me.
I was absolutely content to be more of a “backup tenor” and let someone
else led me. And for awhile, that’s how it worked. But then the question
of why wasn’t I signing up for the Connection service started coming up.
My family and I attend the Connection so it makes sense. But that service
has only person per part, so I wouldn’t be able to rely on someone else.
It would be all on me, and I was absolutely sure that I could never do
it. Besides, I wasn’t an actual tenor. I was a just a fill in, right?
All the tenors, as well as the rest of the praise team, had been so
helpful, patient, and welcoming this entire time. But Brishan and the
tenors that sang during Connection would not give up on me. They
encouraged me to push past my fears, to dig deeper, and go for it even
when it seemed impossible. And they did it simply by being my friends.
The encouragement I received from those guys, Brishan, and the rest of
the team led me to eventually singing during Connection which is
something I said I’d never do. Fast forward to today: I signed up to sing
tenor during Connection next week without knowing the songs ahead of
time.
As we entered 2016, I saw people using a single word to focus on during
this year. I wondered what my word would be, and the one that kept
circling back around was “joy.”
Music is such an incredible thing. It speaks when words cannot. We were
created to praise our Lord, to praise him with words and praise him with
song. I find joy in singing, and there’s nothing wrong with that. Except
when there is.
It’s been years since I’ve sang soprano. In those years, God has been
teaching me a lesson. I found joy in singing. Singing in the car, singing
at home, singing on the praise team. All of it brought me joy. What I
know realize is I used it as my main source of joy. Without it, I had to
find joy in something else. God was leading me, pointing me to my joy.
And it’s Him. The joy of the Lord will be my strength. I see that now. In
those years without singing, I went through many different emotions.
Denial, anger, grief. But also joy. I’ve found joy in my marriage, with
my family, with friends, at work, at church, in Bible study, with my
Village. And once again in singing. But my main source of joy is the
Lord.
It’s been years since I’ve sang soprano. But that’s okay. Now I sing
tenor. And life is full of joy.
We are often blinded by the darkness. But God shines in the darkness. So, this week, try to do one thing: Take time to see in the darkness. Trust that God is at work, even in the tough times. And give thanks to God for that work.
