Here’s to mud in your eye!
John 9:1–12 Simple obedience to a strange request.
The Mud Was the Mercy
John 9 — Simple obedience to a strange request.
Here’s to Mud in Your Eye
I learned a new phrase this week. There’s an old toast drinking buddies used to say: “Here’s to mud in your eye!”
As I understand it, it was a jab between friends. If I raise my glass and toast to mud in your eye, then I have the advantage in our next competition.
No one really knows where this originated, but it’s possible that it began as a sort of distorted reading of today’s biblical story.
In John 9, a man literally gets mud in his eye. Except here it isn’t an insult. This particular mud turns out to be the best thing that could have happened to this man. In a rather shocking departure from Jesus’ typical miracle — he could simply speak a word, and people were healed — this time he spat on the ground, made some mud, and put it on a blind man’s eyes.
The more I sit with this story, the more I find it is not only a beautiful moment between Jesus and this one man; it is also rich with symbols to help us understand our own faith. When I call myself a Christian, what am I actually saying? And, how might Jesus meet me in this same way, this week?
Who Sinned?
As Jesus walked along, he saw a man who was blind from birth. Jesus’ disciples asked, “Rabbi, who sinned so that he was born blind, this man or his parents?”
— John 9:1–2 (CEB)
Jesus sees the man first. That sets off the whole story. Before the man can see, he is first seen. The disciples voice a question many before and since have asked, but without Jesus first taking notice, perhaps they would have simply ignored the man entirely.
But they see him, and decide to try their hand at philosophy — Who sinned?
We don’t always use the word, but I think many of us today still assume some kind of karma is at work. When something bad happens to us, our first instinct is, I must have done something wrong. When someone else is blessed, we wonder what they did to deserve it. We have this innate sense that life should be fair, that the universe should be fair. Right now, in my house, my youngest girl’s favorite phrase is, “Not fair!”
Jesus flips it.
Jesus answered, “Neither he nor his parents. This happened so that God’s mighty works might be displayed in him.”
— John 9:3 (CEB)
Three verses in, and we already have a perfect summary of the entire book of Job. If you know that book, Job suffers intensely, and he never finds out why. His friends show up with their spiritual wisdom, and for about thirty chapters, they grill him: Job, you must have done something wrong to deserve all this. Confess it. Job keeps insisting, No, I don’t think I did. Something else is at work here. And he keeps giving glory to God.
The friends of Job, and the disciples here, are pulling from conventional wisdom about how the world typically seems to work. Who sinned? isn’t always the wrong question. But in this case, nobody did; God’s glory is about to be revealed instead.
Now, Jesus is not giving us a universal answer. Sometimes the bad things in my life come from my own decisions. Sometimes my sin really does lead to consequences. Sometimes other people’s sin leads to consequences I have to deal with. Jesus isn’t declaring that there’s never any fault. But the universe is more complex than a one-size-fits-all answer. Sometimes bad things just happen. And God can work for his glory out of the darkest circumstances.
Whenever I Am in the World
“While it’s daytime, we must do the works of him who sent me. Night is coming when no one can work. While I am in the world, I am the light of the world.”
— John 9:4–5 (CEB)
Here’s my one Greek lesson for the week. The little word translated while in verse 5 is hotan (ὅταν). It’s temporal, and you could also translate it whenever: Whenever I am in the world, I am the light of the world.
It sounds odd to us. While I am in the world? Jesus, are you saying there will be a time when you’re not? In John’s Gospel, yes. He’s headed for the cross. There is going to be a Friday when the light of the world is snuffed out, and it will look like darkness has won. John keeps pointing us toward that dark day. Night is coming.
But John knows, and we know, that the night didn’t last long. Jesus died on the cross on Good Friday, and he rose from the grave on Easter Sunday. And John is also writing these words for all of us who come after: Whenever I am in the world… Jesus, you’re in the world now. How can I see your light here? How are you breaking into my darkness today?
Jesus did go to the cross, but he conquered death, and he conquered the darkness, so the light is still ours to reach for.
Spit and Mud?
Then comes the strange part.
After he said this, he spit on the ground, made mud with the saliva, and smeared the mud on the man’s eyes. Jesus said to him, “Go, wash in the pool of Siloam” (this word means sent). So the man went away and washed. When he returned, he could see.
— John 9:6–7 (CEB)
At first glance, Jesus actually makes the man’s predicament worse. Even if I can see perfectly well, if you smear mud on my eyes, now I can’t see.
I see a link here to creation itself. Way back in Genesis, God forms the first human out of the dirt and breathes life into him:
The LORD God formed the human from the topsoil of the fertile land and blew life’s breath into his nostrils. The human came to life.
— Genesis 2:7 (CEB)
Mix breath and dirt, and you get clay. Now the Creator God is walking among us, and he takes what comes from his mouth, mixes it with the dirt of the ground, and presses it onto this man’s eyes. Jesus is performing an act of new creation.
Go and Wash
Think about what comes next. The man doesn’t know Jesus, and he still hasn’t seen Jesus’ face. He hears a voice. He feels hands putting mud on his eyes. And the command is: Go. Wash in the pool of Siloam. In other words, while you’re still blind, go find this particular pool and wash there.
Put yourself in his shoes: A stranger just put mud in my eye — did I hear him spit first? — and now he wants me to find my way where?
What would your reaction be? I might get frustrated and shrug off the request entirely.
Instead, something about Jesus’ word made him trust him just enough. Okay. I’ll practice this one simple act of obedience.
The story seems to echo another one, from 2 Kings 5. Naaman, a Syrian army commander, has a skin disease, and he comes to Israel to ask the prophet Elisha to heal him. The man of God gives him an odd request: go wash in the Jordan River seven times, and you’ll be healed. Naaman’s first reaction is arrogance. I came all the way out here, and you’re telling me to take a bath in your river? We have rivers back home. I’ll go bathe at my house. But one of his servants talks some sense into him: You came to the man of God and asked to be healed. Why don’t you just try it? So Naaman does. He washes in the Jordan seven times, comes up healed, and starts worshiping the LORD, even back in a foreign land.
The blind man is in that same predicament. Jesus, why do I have to do it this way? Couldn’t you have healed me some other way? Jesus is asking him to walk by faith: Can you obey my word?
So he goes. And when he returns, he can see.
Light, Sight, and New Creation
This man’s story gives us at least three tangible symbols to help answer the question, What does it mean to be a Christian?
Light. Whenever I am in the world, I am the light of the world. Early in the Gospel, the light comes into the world, and people love the darkness instead. So the question for us as Christians is: do I actually trust that the light Jesus brings, the truth he brings, is the one I want to define my life? Or do I love the darkness, and would I rather my thoughts and deeds remain hidden?
Sight. In this man’s case, the blindness is physical. But in John, it very quickly points to spiritual blindness. By the end of this chapter, it’s the Pharisees who think they see everything clearly. They’re telling everyone else what it means to follow God and be righteous. They look at Jesus with their perfectly good eyes and say, He’s a troublemaker. He’s a heretic. Stop following him. And the man who was blind comes with humble, simple obedience and sees Jesus clearly.
So for us: do I recognize that I can’t see Jesus until he makes me able to? It isn’t my intellect or my study that makes me faithful. I know nothing until Jesus calls me as his own.
New creation. Breath from his mouth, dirt from the ground, rubbed on the man’s eyes: I’m going to make you something new. Paul puts it this way:
So then, if anyone is in Christ, that person is part of the new creation. The old things have gone away, and look, new things have arrived!
— 2 Corinthians 5:17 (CEB)
What does it mean that Jesus has grabbed hold of you? He has kick-started new creation in your life. How has he been transforming you, pulling you deeper into relationship with him?
One Simple Step
Growing in my own faith has often felt like this man’s story. Jesus, giving me the next simple command. Not some extraordinary feat. Just one step of faith. I can’t see the end of the road. I don’t know exactly where this is heading. But you’re telling me to go and wash in this pool? Okay. I’ll go wash in this pool.
I’ve also missed my moment. My freshman year at UC San Diego, I was trying out for the water polo team. The guys on the team were quite exuberant and liked to party. They invited me to tag along to an all-night rager. Lots of drinking, the typical college party. I felt God had convicted me not to drink, but I went anyway, to get to know the guys and be part of their community. They offered me drinks, and I said, No, not today. They pushed back, Come on, Tyler, why not?
To this day, I look back and think, That was my moment. I didn’t have to get up on a soapbox and pull out my Bible. I could have simply said, I think Jesus told me not to tonight. That’s it. Instead, I said, I just don’t really like the taste of alcohol. It got awkward; it was clear my answer made zero sense to anyone.
Maybe I wouldn’t have changed their hearts and minds right there on the spot. But I might have planted a seed that became a conversation later.
Since then, God has put other, similar nudges in my mind. I’m at Nob Hill, and someone asks how my weekend was. Just tell them you were at church on Sunday. I’ll admit that being a pastor in town gives me an advantage. It’s pretty easy to say, Actually, I work at Grace Hill, and that often opens up a good conversation. But I can still get awkward and uncomfortable. There are times I think, God, can I just finish this transaction and get out of here? So for me, simple obedience means remaining open and praying, God, are you nudging me to bring you up in this conversation? To offer to pray for this person? To invite someone to read a story about Jesus?
The man in John 9 is about to have that exact moment. In the next few scenes, the Pharisees grill him, and he gives one of the most beautiful, simplest declarations of faith I find anywhere in the Gospels:
The man answered, “I don’t know whether he’s a sinner. Here’s what I do know: I was blind and now I see.”
— John 9:25 (CEB)
He doesn’t have an answer to all their questions. He just tells them a little of his story. Maybe it will spark someone’s interest.
Sit in the Story
Take a moment and read through the story in John 9. How is God speaking into your life today through this ancient scene?
What intrigues you about Jesus in this scene? Maybe it’s the way he sees the man before anyone else does. Maybe it’s the way he says, Wherever I am, I’m the one who shines the light. Maybe it’s his act of new creation.
Jesus, I need you to smear some mud in my eye, because I’m not seeing clearly.
Or maybe it’s how hidden Jesus is in this scene. He doesn’t walk up glowing and say, Fall down and worship me. He stays hidden. He makes the man work for it a little. The man has to go and wash, and there may be a couple of days in this story where he still hasn’t seen Jesus face-to-face. But he’s starting to believe. I heard his word, and when I followed it, it worked out for me. So I’m going to keep doing this simple act of obedience.
Is there a simple moment in your life this week where Jesus is saying, I just want you to do this one thing? You don’t know where it’s going. You can’t see the next step. But start here.
A Prayer for Our Week
Jesus, speak to us through the word that comes from your mouth.
Open our ears so we can hear your simple commands. Give us the courage to do what you ask.
It was in a simple act of obedience that this man found his sight. Lead us, and heal our eyes to see you more and more.
In Jesus’ name, amen.
This week:
- Start in his word. We have access to the words of Christ on every page of the Bible, and reading it is the best way to be attuned to his voice. Read John 9:1–12 slowly once more, and hold on to the one verse that stands out to you.
- Each morning, ask: Jesus, is there one simple step you’re asking me to take today? Then take it, even if it seems a little out of place.
- Watch for the nudge. Ask: Is there a person in my life to whom God wants me to mention Jesus, or offer to pray?
