A priest I knew long ago used to say that one of the problems in the church is that we sometimes try to answer questions that no one is asking. What he meant was that we could create conflict or confusion where there need be no conflict or confusion if we’d have left well enough alone. The Gospel passage assigned for today - all 41 verses of it - seems to provide just such an opportunity for the church. It begins with a question that absolutely no one I know is asking: “Who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?”
No one I know thinks that sin could be the cause of a child born without sight. And certainly, no one I know would seriously ask a question about whether it was the child or the parents who sinned. This question - to me, and I am assuming to you - is ludicrous, even insulting. And yet the church asks us to listen to a 41-verse examination of it this morning. Indeed, here at Saint Mark’s we ask you to listen to us sing about it for 41 verses!
Most people I know are not even seriously interested in the question of sin - not in their lives or the lives of others. So even if you reduce the question to its most minimalist expression - Who sinned? - you end up with a question that probably no one is asking. So, what is the point of asking these questions at all - said or sung? Would we be better off skipping these 41 verses and moving on to the next chapter in which Jesus tells he is the good shepherd? Maybe; maybe not. There’s a lot going on in this story that might yield some insight. But for today, I want to suggest only one detail of which we could take note. I want us to notice that Jesus spat.
“He spat on the ground and made mud with the saliva and spread the mud on the man’s eyes, saying to him, ‘Go wash in the pool of Siloam.’” Jesus spat. This is the only time that St. John tells us that Jesus spat. Our own patron, Saint Mark the Evangelist, gives two accounts of Jesus using spit in healing miracles. In the eight chapter of Mark’s gospel we hear of Jesus also using his saliva to give sight to a blind man. And in the seventh chapter of Mark we are told of the time Jesus spat and touched the tongue of a man who could neither speak nor hear in order to restore both senses to him.
For better or worse, I think we have to take the scriptures on their own terms here, and accept the assumption that addressing these disabilities is a matter of healing, and that healing is good for both the body and the soul. But here in John’s gospel, Jesus most certainly is at pains to make sure that no one believes that the man’s blindness is the result of anyone’s sin. As far as Jesus is concerned, the man’s blindness provides the opportunity “that God’s works might be revealed in him.” And then, Jesus spat.
It seems to me that there are three possibilities as to why Jesus spat.
The first possibility is that it is an example of misdirection. Misdirection is a technique of deception that magicians use to distract our attention from one thing, toward something else so that we won’t notice the actual mechanism by which the trick is performed. I don’t think there’s a trick to this miracle, so I don’t think that Jesus spat as a kind of misdirection.
The second reason that Jesus may have spat is that his saliva actually contains magical or mystical healing powers. There is a long pseudo-scientific tradition of suggesting that saliva contains actual chemical composition with healing properties, but I am ruling this possibility out. And I hope it will not surprise you to discover that I do not think that Jesus’ saliva contained magical, mystical potential.
The last possible reason that Jesus spat may be this: that he was inclined to employ noticeable symbolic gestures in order to emphasize the power of God at work in him, and the implications of that power for those who receive it.
When Jesus performed acts of healing, we’re told that he “laid hands on” them.
When he drove the money-changers out of the temple, he made a whip of cords, perhaps as much as a symbol as an actual device to accomplish their removal.
When Jesus blessed children, he took them in his arms, laid hands on them, and blessed them.
When he wanted to demonstrate his humility and his love for his disciples, he did not merely tell them how he felt, he wrapped a towel around his waist, and he took a basin and water, and he washed their feet.
When he entered into Jerusalem to embark on the way of the Cross, he gave specific instructions about how to find the precise donkey on which he would, in lowly pomp, ride into the city.
Even after his resurrection, when he gave the apostles the gift of the Holy Spirit, he didn’t just tell them about it, or hand them a certificate; he breathed on them: a powerful symbolic gesture to underscore the power of God at work in him, with immense implications for those who receive it.
And, of course, pre-eminently, on the night before he died, gathered at the table with his disciples, he did not merely encourage them to remember him after he was gone. But in a sublime moment of mystery and love, he gave them a rich but simple symbolic vocabulary - with bread and wine - by which his memory would ever thereafter make his Presence among them, and us, real every time we, too, follow his instructions to “do this” in remembrance of him.
This is what Jesus does. He touches; he fashions; he blesses; he arranges; he washes; he breathes; he spits; and he takes, blesses, breaks, and shares. He enacts a symbolic vocabulary that says more than he can say with words, since his symbolic actions transcend language, and transmit more than language is able to say. In the church we call this symbolic language “sacramental,” by which we mean that Jesus uses outward and visible signs to indicate the reality of inward and invisible gifts of grace from God.
And the symbolic, sacramental language that Jesus uses is meant to answer real questions that people are actually asking. You can see that Jesus is uninterested in the question of “who sinned.” By which I do not mean to suggest that Jesus is uninterested in sin. He knows that sin is a powerful force that obstructs God’s will in the world. But I suppose that he also knows that there are times and places that, despite the fascination and preoccupation of religious leaders, not too many people would be asking about sin.
And Jesus has answers to questions that people are asking, like: what will we do about all the darkness in this world? That’s a question that I know a lot of people are asking these days. What will we do about all the darkness in this world? Jesus has an answer to this question. “I am the light of the world,” he says. But why should anyone believe him?
So he spat and made mud with his saliva and the dirt, and he spread the mud on the eyes of a man born blind, and told him to go wash, and the man, who once was blind, could now see. It’s amazing how much light a little mud can bring!
Anyone could have said, “I am the light of the world.” But with his spit and the mud, Jesus shows that when he says it, the dark places of our lives become filled with light! And all he has to do is spit! Such is his power, such is his reservoir of grace. All he has to do is touch. All he has to do is bless the children. All he has to do is wash feet. All he has to do is take, bless, break, and share bread. All he has to do is spit!
What will we do about all the darkness in this world? This question keeps us up at night sometimes, doesn’t it? And Jesus has an answer to it: “I am the light of the world,” he says, “I am the light of the world.”
Jesus is the light of a world whose vision is darkened by trenches and tanks, by drones and mines, by bloodshed and violence; a world darkened by the systematic destruction of the beauty and the health, and the resources of this earth; a world darkened by religious extremism that dresses up like politics; a world darkened by churches who refuse to acknowledge our own failures and sinfulness; a world darkened by greediness in those who care nothing for the misery and misfortune of others as long as they can get what they want; a world darkened by an epidemic of addiction; by ingrained racism; by the daily violence of gunfire. Sin and the wages of sin are all over the place. If you want to talk about sin, we have things to talk about besides the question of who sinned, this blind man or his parents, that he was born blind.
And Jesus knows this. He is not concerned the with the questions that don’t concern you or me either. He is not interested in casting blame and shame by exploring the question of “Who sinned?” All have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God - we already know the answer to this question.
Jesus is interested in shedding light on the darkest places of this world, and in the darkest corners of your soul and mine. He is the light of the world! And with nothing but his spit and a little dirt he can change everything. Indeed, he has changed everything by the power of his light, and he will keep on shining. Just ask the man born blind.
And when you are feeling stuck in your own darkness, just turn to Jesus, and remember that all he has to do is spit! And it’s amazing how much light a little mud can bring!
Preached by Fr. Sean Mullen
19 March 2023
Saint Mark’s, Locust Street, Philadelphia
