Does God Always Heal?

John 4:46-54

Dr. Jim Denison

Thesis: Jesus always heals—physically, spiritually, or eternally

A friend in our congregation recently sent me an interesting e-mail. It seems that he was watching a particular news commentator on television one night, and heard the reporter try to make his point by saying, “There’s the passage that says, ‘God helps those who help themselves.'” Right after, the station went to a commercial break.

My friend and his wife were just starting to comment on how often that non-biblical reference is attributed to God’s word when one of our church’s televisions spots came on the screen. In this particular TV spot I begin by saying, “My favorite verse in the Bible used to be, ‘God helps those who help themselves.’ Until I discovered it’s not in the Bible.” Then I proceed to explain that God helps those who cannot help themselves, by his grace. It’s been said that coincidence is when God prefers to remain anonymous.

Sometimes God manifests his presence and power in small, unseen ways. But sometimes we need him to help us with dramatic, life-transforming power. In this study, a pagan Roman official will help us answer a vital question: Does God always heal? When you need him most, will he be there? Will he heal you? Will he answer your prayer for someone you love? Does God always heal?

Remember what Jesus has done

Our story begins: “Once more he visited Cana in Galilee, where he had turned the water into wine. And there was a certain royal official whose son lay sick at Capernaum. When this man heard that Jesus had arrived in Galilee from Judea, he went to him and begged him to come and heal his son, who was close to death” (John 2:46-47).

This “certain royal official” was a most unlikely candidate for a miracle from a Jewish rabbi. The Jews hated Gentiles, considering them pagan idolaters. They commonly said that God made Gentiles so there would be firewood in hell. They would not allow their nurses to help Gentile women in childbirth, for this would only bring another Gentile into the world. Every Jewish male began every morning with the same prayer: “God, I thank you that I am not a Gentile, a slave, or a woman.”

And this man was not just any Gentile. He was a “certain royal official,” part of the cursed, despised Roman occupation. He was most probably a court officer for King Herod (his Greek title, basilikos, was used by the Jewish historian Josephus to refer to Herodian troops. Though it can have other functions, an army official is its most likely definition here; cf. Brown 190). It was his job to protect Herod from the masses who despised his rule, and to enforce that rule among the Jews. Israel was oppressed by Rome, and he was one of the chief oppressors.

By now the Jewish nation has suffered under the boot of Rome for generations. They are an occupied territory. They must pay Rome exorbitant taxes, and bow to Caesar’s rule. They have lost the right to govern themselves, and have no hope of independence in the future. John’s readers knew that 40 or so years after the events recorded in his Gospel, Rome would destroy the Jewish temple forever and scatter the people across the world. Thanks to Rome, Israel would cease to exist as a nation. And this man’s army would ensure their destruction.

I spent a summer doing mission work in East Malaysia, a Muslim nation. One cannot work for the government unless he is Muslim. The government severely restricts the Christian church there. If a believer shares his faith with a Muslim, he can be arrested and sent to prison. Christians find it hard to advance in work or education. Many lose their homes for their faith, and some, their lives. If a government official were to come to such an oppressed believer for help, he would be in somewhat the position of this Roman who stood before the rabbi, surrounded by an incredulous crowd of hostile Jews.

Why would this man believe that Jesus would even hear his request, much less honor it?

The clues begin early in our story. Because not a single word in holy Scripture is wasted, we must ask why John states that it was in Cana that Jesus “had turned the water into wine.” We will remember our Lord’s first miracle, recorded only two chapters earlier. I think it is likely that the writer includes this episode not to remind us but to connect this miracle to the official who needs such a miracle in his own life. Perhaps he had heard of Jesus’ power in that tiny town, his assistance given to simple peasants. If Jesus would help them, perhaps he would help him as well.

The official “heard that Jesus had arrived in Galilee from Judea” (v. 47). What had Jesus been doing down south? Cleansing the temple in Jerusalem (John 2:12ff), evangelizing a member of the Sanhedrin (3:1ff), receiving the testimony of John the Baptist as to his divinity (3:22ff), and ministering to a Samaritan woman and her entire town (4:1ff). John 4:45 adds further, “When he arrived in Galilee, the Galileans welcomed him. They had seen all that he had done in Jerusalem at the Passover Feast, for they also had been there.” These two chapters of John’s Gospel occupied eighteen months of our Lord’s life (Hobbs, Study Guide 24).

So our Roman official has heard much to encourage him about Jesus. He would help peasants—perhaps he will help a nobleman. He would “heal” the temple—maybe he will heal his son. He would speak with a Sanhedrin member—perhaps he will speak with a Roman official. He would minister to a Samaritan—maybe he will minister to a Gentile in need. And he was right.

Do you need God to heal you or someone you love? To heal physically, emotionally, relationally, or spiritually? Are you wondering if he will? First, remember what Jesus has already done for you. Think about the ways he has already proven his love for you. His Son left heaven’s glory to be born in a peasant’s feedtrough, just for you. He endured crucifixion, a form of execution so horrific it is outlawed all over the world today, just for you. He has forgiven every failure you have ever confessed to him, and will continue to do so. He knows every sin you’ve ever committed, and what’s more, he sees every sin you will ever commit in the future. But he loves you anyway. He likes you. He finds joy in you even as you read these words.

He told his prophet, “The Lord longs to be gracious to you; he rises to show you compassion. For the Lord is a God of justice. Blessed are all who wait for him!” (Is 30:18). Think of all the ways he has already blessed you. Does your family love you? So many are trapped in loveless, abusive homes. Has he provided for your material needs through physical abilities and vocational opportunities? So many are trapped in endless poverty. Has he given you the privilege of life in America’s freedom? Who of us earned the right to be born in this country and not in Iraq or North Korea?

Has God showed you his miraculous power in your past? We each have experienced help we did not earn and could not explain. I remember well a Wednesday night prayer meeting in our first pastorate. One of our elderly members came into our Fellowship Hall, her face white as a sheet. She told us that her doctor had called just that hour with the test results: she had pancreatic cancer and only months to live. We prayed earnestly and passionately. The next week she was back, in glorious health. The cancer was gone, and the doctor had no explanation. But we did.

My dentist in our Midland church was in open-heart surgery, and his heart would not start beating again. The doctor came out to tell the family that he was dying. We began to pray. A few moments later the doctor returned to tell us that his heart had started again, on its own, and that he had never seen such a thing in all his years of medical practice. Later, the mayor of Midland suffered a debilitating heart attack. The surgeons operated, but discovered that half of the heart was hard and dead. There was nothing the surgeons could do. But then, while we were praying outside, that dead tissue came back to life and started to beat. The surgeons said they had never seen such a thing.

I know drug addicts who were miraculous healed of their habit, Satanists who were powerfully converted, prisoners who are now preachers. I remember a couple brought to one of our worship services in Atlanta by friends. They were planning to file for divorce the next day. But in a Sunday school class that morning, God healed their marriage. One of our church members here in Dallas came to our country as a Muslim missionary to convert Americans to Islam, and is now a Christian missionary to Muslims. When he came to Christ, his father back home issued a warrant for his arrest should he ever return. He recently went home anyway, and led his father to Christ.

Think about all the ways God has shown his miraculous power to you and those you know. Remember what he has done. Think back to times when he turned your water into his wine, when he met your needs and those of people you love. Remember what Jesus has done, and you’ll be encouraged to believe that he will do it again.

Bring him your pain

Since beginning my work on this commentary, the official in our story has become one of my favorite models for biblical faith. He teaches us much about the kind of trust which Jesus can honor with his miraculous power.

First, we trust Jesus despite every obstacle. The Roman official “went” to Jesus (v. 47). John’s readers knew what we do not: this man walked nearly a marathon to bring his need to our Lord. He was stationed in Capernaum, a significant fishing town on the northern coast of the Sea of Galilee. Cana was at least twenty miles to the west. The Sea of Galilee is 700 feet below sea level; Cana was situated atop the Galilean hills (“Galilee” is from the Hebrew word galal, “to roll” [Hobbs, Invitation 39]). But neither distance nor height deterred this father. He teaches us to bring Jesus our pain, however hard the journey may be, however difficult such faith is for us.

Second, we trust Jesus in humility. The official “begged him to come and heal his son” (v. 47). He did not order Jesus to do so, though his rank and office would have afforded him such authority. Social standing and status would not deter this father. It is an amazing scene: an official of the Roman Empire pleading with a Jewish village carpenter for his help. If a high-ranking Army officer stationed in Afghanistan were to walk 20 miles to seek help from an Afghan peasant, we’d be no less astonished. He teaches us to bring Jesus our need, in honest humility.

Third, we trust Jesus personally. The official came himself, not sending a servant in his place. This is the way we each must come to Jesus: “The rich and the poor, the high and the low, must come personally as humble supplicants, and must be willing to bear all the reproach that may be cast on them for thus coming to him” (Barnes 223). The Roman teaches us to get on our own knees before Jesus.

Fourth, we trust Jesus unconditionally. The official begged him to “come and heal his son.” Undoubtedly he had already tried the best physicians Rome could offer, without success. Now he has faith to believe that this itinerant carpenter, this unordained rabbi could do what other men could not. He didn’t ask Jesus to “try to heal his son,” but simply to heal him. He believed that he could. And he was right. He teaches us to ask in absolute, unwavering faith.

James commends such certainty: “If any of you lacks wisdom, he should ask God, who gives generously to all without finding fault, and it will be given to him. But when he asks, he must believe and not doubt, because he who doubts is like a wave of the sea, blown and tossed by the wind. That man should not think he will receive anything from the Lord; he is a double-minded man, unstable in all he does” (Ja 1:5-8).

Fifth, we trust Jesus with our best faith. The official did not know Jesus’ divine power as we do. He wanted Jesus to “come” to heal his son, as a physician would. He had no idea that our omnipotent Lord could heal across time and distance, with just a word. Another Roman official did have such faith, and said to Jesus, “Just say the word, and my servant will be healed” (Matthew 8:8). And Jesus commended him: “I have not found anyone in Israel with such faith” (v. 10), and healed his servant in that very hour (v. 13).

Jesus would have welcomed such faith in this Roman, but he did not require it. He meets us at the point of our belief, when we give to him the best faith we have. The official in our miracle did not know what we do, but Jesus honored his request nonetheless. You may think your faith too small to receive a miracle from God, but if it is the best you have, it is all he requires. One of my favorite prayers in the Bible is the request of the father whose son was possessed by a demon. Jesus said to him, “Everything is possible for him who believes” (Mark 9:23), and he replied, “I do believe; help me overcome my unbelief!” (v. 24). And Jesus did. He receives such faith as we have, by grace.

Last, we trust Jesus with persistent faith. “Begged” is in the continuous tense in the Greek, showing that the man repeated his insistent requests (Tenney 60). Jesus taught us to “ask and keep on asking, and it will be given to you” (Matthew 7:7, my literal translation). The Roman teaches us to heed Jesus’ instruction.

Now our Lord gave an odd response to such remarkable faith: “Unless you people see miraculous signs and wonders, you will never believe” (v. 48). At first glance, it appears that Jesus rebuked this man’s great trust in him. But the first glance is often wrong, especially in reading the word of God.

“You” is found twice in Jesus’ sentence, and is the key to its meaning. This is the second person plural, addressed to the entire crowd gathered before Jesus. His words were not spoken directly to the nobleman, but to the audience which was listening to his request. Jesus knew that most people were consumers, interested in him to the degree that he could help them. And he was right.

Tragically, he still is. For countless churches theology is therapy, the congregation a club. Members join the club that offers the services they want, and pay only for what they receive. The deacons are a board of directors, elected to ensure that the members’ needs are met. The pastor is a kind of “head pro,” with a staff hired to serve the membership. A few years ago a troubling survey was conducted. Thousands of churches and their pastors were asked the purpose of the church. 90% of the pastors said the purpose of the church is to fulfill the Great Commission; 10% said it is to meet members’ needs. 89% of the members said that the purpose of the church is to meet their needs; 11% said it is to fulfill the Great Commission.

So Jesus was both testing this nobleman’s faith and revealing that of his contemporaries. The official passed the test and more: “Sir, come down before my child dies” (49). “Sir” is a title of immense respect, unheard of on the lips of a Roman officer speaking to a Jewish peasant. His prayer was again a request, not an order. It was another statement of humble, personal, unconditional, persistent faith, the plea of a breaking heart. Not a demand that Jesus prove his ability, for this man already believed in his power.

So should we. When we bring Jesus our pain, we position ourselves to receive the grace he already wants to give. How many of our needs go unmet because we will not give them to our Master with the faith of this pagan? When last did you give your problem to Jesus as he did?

Trust his word

The Roman teaches us to remember what Jesus has done for us in the past, and ask him to do it again today. Now we learn a last, vital lesson from our Gentile teacher today: trust the word you hear from God. Immediately, without reservation or hesitation. Put feet to your faith. Stake everything on his word and will. Trust the word of God.

Jesus’ reply to the nobleman’s commendable faith was an absolute shock to his troubled mind: “You may go. Your son will live” (v. 50a). “Live” is a Semitic term which means both recovery from illness and return to life from death (Rienecker 228). That’s the good news. But the bad news is that Jesus would not go with the official to make it so for his dying son. He would not come to him in his hour of greatest need. No reputable physician in human history has ever claimed to heal a person he has never seen of an illness he has not diagnosed. This boy lay near death, 20 miles away, his illness unknown but terminal. And now a peasant carpenter claimed to have healed him with only his words.

Imagine yourself calling your doctor for help with a gravely ill child. The physician refuses to see your child, or to go to him. He will not prescribe medicine, run tests, or consult with other medical professionals. He doesn’t even inquire as to the precise nature of the illness. He simply says, “Your son will live.” Over the telephone, from an office 20 miles away. How would you respond?

Our pagan official “took Jesus at his word and departed” (v. 50b). His response and faith were instantaneous (Robertson 76). He started on his way, acting on his faith. Note that he did not stay with Jesus until receiving word that the promised cure had been effective—he simply left to go home to his healed son (Bruce 734).

With this result: “while he was still on the way, his servants met him with the news that his boy was living. When he inquired as to the time when his son got better, they said to him, ‘The fever left him yesterday at the seventh hour'” (John 2:51-52). The servants whom the official refused to send to Jesus in his place now entered the event. They have come to find their master, for his journey was no longer necessary: “his boy was living,” literally, “he lives.” He is healed, and well.

These servants had never met Jesus, and had no knowledge of his actions. They had no idea when Jesus had spoken his healing word. And so their testimony was objective and substantively compelling. It provided independent verification of this miracle, much as the servants in our first miracle did for Jesus’ work there.

They didn’t know the full import of their report, but their master did: “Then the father realized that this was the exact time at which Jesus had said to him, ‘Your son will live'” (v. 53a). The “seventh hour” would be either 1 p.m. (Jewish time) or 7 p.m. (Roman). Given that the nobleman met his servants the day after speaking with Jesus (v. 52, “The fever left him yesterday”), it is likely that Roman time was employed here. The father had begun the long trek home after hearing Jesus’ words, camped along the way, and now met his servants the next morning.

When he received their report, “he and all his household believed” (v. 53b). This was the best news a father could ever hear, and it turned him to his own Father. He “believed,” with trusting, saving faith. Before he had believed in Jesus as a healer; now he made him his Master and Lord. Before he had trusted Jesus for his son’s physical life; now he trusted him for his own eternal life.

Such faith was radical, revolutionary, and sacrificial. At the very least a Roman follower of this itinerant Jewish rabbi could expect no further advancement in his political career. At worst, assuming his refusal to worship Caesar as his lord, his career and even his life could be in jeopardy. And he knew all this at the beginning of his faith commitment.

But he made his decision anyway. And he led his family to do the same: “all his household believed.” This pagan oppressor of the Jewish people became the first person in the New Testament to lead his whole family to Christ. Later Lydia would win her family in Philippi to Jesus (Acts 16:15), as would the Philippian jailer (Acts 16:33, 34) and Crispus, the synagogue ruler in Corinth (Acts 18:8). But this Roman soldier was the first. May fathers and mothers across our church and country follow his example today.

It is plausible that the Roman official did even more in the service of our Lord than we are told here. Luke tells us of a certain “Joanna the wife of Cuza, the manager of Herod’s household” (Luke 8:3). This Joanna was among “some women who had been cured of evil spirits and diseases” (v. 2), and were “helping to support them out of their own means” (v. 3). If this nobleman was the Cuza identified by Luke, then we can infer that his faith led his wife to faith as well. And that the One who healed his son also healed his wife, and led her to sacrificial discipleship.

Another possible identification of our nobleman is found in Acts 13:1: “In the church at Antioch there were prophets and teachers: Barnabas, Simeon called Niger, Lucius of Cyrene, Manean (who had been brought up with Herod the tetrarch) and Paul.” If Manean was the official of our story, we can trace his evolution of faith from the army of Herod to leadership in the church of Jesus.

Both possibilities are speculative, of course. We cannot know for certain the name of the Roman official in our story. But God does. And that’s all that matters.

Our pagan official teaches us today to remember all Jesus the ways Jesus has met our needs in the past, and trust him to meet them again today. He then shows us that we must trust in the word he gives us, with immediate and total faith. Such faith led the nobleman to the physical salvation of his son and the spiritual salvation of his entire family. Jesus healed a single body so he could heal many souls. He waits for another who will bring him similar faith, and receive a similar miracle.

Will Jesus always heal us?

So, does God always heal? Will he always do for us what he did for this father?

John concludes our text: “This was the second miraculous sign that Jesus performed, having come from Judea to Galilee” (John 2:54). Not the second miracle Jesus did in total, for while our Lord was in Jerusalem for Passover “many people saw the miraculous signs he was doing and believed in his name” (John 2:23). Our miracle was the second performed by Jesus in the region of Cana (Hovey 128), and was the last “sign” John numbered in this way (Carson 239). But not the last miracle Jesus would do.

In coming weeks we will watch Jesus cure a paralytic, feed a multitude, walk on water, heal a blind man, raise the dead, and appear in his own resurrected glory. Most of us have experienced his miraculous power in our lives today. But does he always act in this way? Does he always heal our bodies, whenever we ask?

No. Jesus healed 40 people we can identify in the gospels, out of the thousands who were sick and dying. All of his disciples but one were executed for their faith, and he didn’t heal their bodies. Paul, the greatest theologian and missionary of all time, prayed three times that his “thorn in the flesh” be removed, but Jesus didn’t do what he asked (2 Corinthians 11:7-9). He doesn’t always heal our bodies. And even those he heals will die, unless he returns to earth first. Lazarus died again. The nobleman’s son died later. So will we.

Sometimes Jesus heals us physically. But sometimes he works an even greater miracle—he heals us spiritually. He gives us the strength and spirit and courage to bear up under life’s sufferings. Sometimes he removes the pain, and sometimes he does the even greater work of giving us the strength to endure it. Either is a miracle of the Lord.

David Ring knows the truth of this principle. David has cerebral palsy and a severe speech impediment. God could have healed him long ago, but then David would have nothing of the ministry which is his through his physical challenges. His shirts are held together by Velcro; his speech is rough; his body is twisted. But his faith and courage will move any person who hears him.

David once said in a sermon, “They said I would never ride a bike, but I did. They said I would never get married, but I did; I have five kids to prove it. They said I would never preach, last year I preached 265 times. I have cerebral palsy, but I preach. What’s your problem?”

I am convinced that much of what happens in the world today is not the result of God’s intentional will. We know that God “is patient with you, not wanting anyone to perish, but every one to come to repentance” (2 Peter 3:9), but not all do. Some use their free will to refuse God’s will in their lives. The consequences they experience are not the result of God’s will but their own. In the world as God intended it there would be no cancer, AIDS, or heart attacks, no drunk drivers, accidents, or disease. My father died of heart disease through no fault of his own. You may have lost a parent, spouse, or child to such innocent death, or even the tragedy of someone’s misused freedom.

In such times, God’s greater miracle is to enable us to withstand such horrific pain and loss. He can heal our bodies, and what’s more, he can heal our souls. Which do you need him to do for you today?

Let’s close with an example of our text in life today. Jim Cymbala is the renowned pastor of the Brooklyn Tabernacle, one of the most anointed leaders in the American church today. Ten years ago he told the story of his daughter’s healing in answer to prayer: “Up until age 16, my oldest daughter was a model child. But then she got away from the Lord and involved with a godless young man. She eventually moved out of our house and later became pregnant.

“We went through a dark tunnel for two and a half years…in February, we were in our Tuesday night prayer meeting (the choir and the church leadership now knew about Chrissy, but we didn’t spread the news any further in the church). I had not talked to my daughter since November.

“An usher passed a note to me from a young woman in the church whom I felt was a spiritual person. ‘Pastor Cymbala, I feel deeply impressed that we are to stop the meeting and pray for your daughter.’ Lord, is this really you? I prayed within myself. I don’t want to make myself the focus. At that moment Chrissy was at a friend’s home somewhere in Brooklyn with her baby.

“I interrupted the meeting and had everyone stand. ‘My daughter thinks up is down, white is black, and black is white,’ I said. ‘Someone has sent me a note saying she feels impressed that we are to pray for her, and I take this as being from the Lord.’ Then some of the leaders of the church joined me, and the church began to pray. The room soon felt like the labor room in a hospital. The people called out to God with incredible intensity.

“When I got home later that night, I said to my wife (who wasn’t at the prayer meeting), ‘It’s over.’ ‘What’s over?’ Carol said. ‘It’s over with Chrissy,’ I replied. ‘You had to be there tonight. I just know that when we went to the throne of grace, something happened in the heavenly places.

“Thirty-six hours later, I was standing in the bathroom shaving. My wife burst into the room. ‘Chrissy’s here,’ she said. ‘You better go downstairs.’…I wiped off the shaving cream. I went to the kitchen, and there was my daughter, 19 years old, on her knees weeping. She grabbed my leg and said, ‘Daddy, I’ve sinned against God. I’ve sinned against you. I’ve sinned against myself. Daddy, who was praying on Tuesday night?’

“‘What do you mean? What happened?’ I said. ‘I was sleeping,’ she said. ‘God woke me up in the middle of the night, and he showed me I was heading toward this pit, this chasm, and Daddy, I got so afraid. I saw myself for what I am. But then God showed me he hadn’t given up on me.’

“I looked at my daughter and saw the face of the daughter we raised. Not the hardened face of the last few years. So Chrissy and our granddaughter moved back into our home. That was three years ago. Today she’s directing the music program at a Bible school and was married this past year to a man from our church.”

Sometimes God calms the storm, and sometimes he lets the storm rage and calms his child. Will you ask God to calm your storm and your soul today?

To Open Blind Eyes, First Open Yours

John 9:1-7

Dr. Jim Denison

Thesis: Jesus heals us as he healed this man,

and now calls us to join him in his ministry of compassion

The following report to a state industrial commission was filed by a worker who was injured in the act of repairing a chimney:

“Respected Sir:

“When I got to the building, I found that the hurricane had knocked some bricks off the top. So I rigged up a beam with a pulley at the top of the building and hoisted up a couple of barrels full of bricks. When I had fixed the building, there were a lot of bricks left over.

“I hoisted the barrel back up again and secured the line at the bottom, and then went and filled the barrel with extra bricks. Then I went to the bottom and cast off the line.

“Unfortunately, the barrel of bricks was heavier than I was, and before I knew what was happening, the barrel started down, jerking me off the ground. I decided to hang on, and halfway up, I met the barrel coming down and received a severe blow on the shoulder. I then continued to the top, banging my head against the beam and getting my finger jammed in the pulley. When the barrel hit the ground, it burst its bottom, allowing the bricks to spill out. I was heavier than the empty barrel, so I started up again at high speed. Halfway down, I met the barrel coming up, and received severe injuries to my shins. When I hit the ground, I landed on the bricks, getting several painful cuts from the sharp edges.

“At this point I must have lost my presence of mind, because I let go of the line. The barrel then came down giving me another heavy blow on the head and putting me in the hospital.”

We’ve all been on that brickpile, and we’ll all return there again. Are you there today? This week’s miracle will help you find the Great Physician and his hope. Do you know people on brickpiles of pain, despair, or loneliness? The miracle before us will help you help them. Our suffering can be great, but our Savior is greater, as this week’s study will prove.

See the need (v. 1)

Our story occurred on a Sabbath (John 9.14). Jesus has returned to Judea, where he has been teaching in the temple courts (John 8.2). The annual Feast of Tabernacles has just occurred in mid-October (Tenney 100). Jesus may have met the man in our story as he sat begging by the Temple, or at the Pool of Siloam (since its waters were used for the Feast of Tabernacle rituals just completed). Wherever our story began, it started with Jesus. He noticed a man who could not see him: “As he went along, he saw a man blind from birth” (John 9.1).

Jesus had not begun the day intending to heal this man. He was “passing along,” walking through the day before him. So much of his ministry was done by “walking around,” helping the people he chanced to meet, seeing their pain and offering his hope.

So it was that he “saw” this man. The Greek word translated “saw” here means to fix the gaze, to look earnestly (Hovey 201). Jesus gave him more than a passing glance—he paid attention to his predicament.

When he saw the man, he saw his need: he was “blind from birth.” Simple observation could not have told him this. How would anyone know when the man’s blindness had begun? It’s possible that the man told him (Lenski 675), or that his reputation preceded him (cf. v. 8). But the syntax suggests to me that the instant Jesus saw the man he knew that his blindness was congenital. If he could heal this man’s blindness, he could determine its source.

This insight gave the Great Physician enough information for a diagnosis: his illness has persisted for many years, caused by a physical abnormality which could not be treated by first-century medicine. There was no medical option for this man. He needed not a physician, but a miracle.

What Jesus knew of this man, he knows today of you: “My frame was not hidden from you when I was made in the secret place. When I was woven together in the depths of the earth, your eyes saw my unformed body. All the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be. How precious concerning me are your thoughts, O God! How vast is the sum of them! Were I to count them, they would outnumber the grains of sand” (Psalm 139.15-18, NIV footnote). The Physician who saw this man and his need sees yours. The blind man could not see Jesus, as we cannot see him today. But the one who cannot see is visible to the One who can.

He sees you and your problems today: “your Father knows what you need before you ask him” (Matthew 6.8). Our prayers do not inform God of our needs; rather, they yield them to the only One who can solve them.

Now Jesus calls us to see others as he sees us. This week’s miracle is the only account in the gospels of Jesus healing a person with a congenital physical problem (Robertson 160, Barclay 37). But we find another such account early in Christian history: “One day Peter and John were going up to the temple at the time of prayer—at three in the afternoon. Now a man crippled from birth was being carried to the temple gate called Beautiful, where he was put every day to beg from those going into the temple courts” (Acts 3.1-2). Here is a man who had begged for 40 years beside the Temple (Acts 4.22). For their entire lives, Peter and John have seen him there and passed him by. But not today.

Today, filled with the Holy Spirit who came upon them at Pentecost, “Peter looked straight at him, as did John” (v. 4). “Looked straight at” translates a Greek word which means to stare with intent purpose. It is the same word used of the disciples as they stared at Jesus during his Ascension (Acts 1.10: “they were looking intently up into the sky”). It is the same word used of Stephen as he stared into heaven during his martyrdom (Acts 7.55: “Stephen, full of the Holy Spirit, looked up into heaven and saw the glory of God, and Jesus standing at the right hand of God”). These men are now controlled by the Spirit of Jesus. They see what he saw.

We can tell how close we are to Jesus by the degree to which we love those he loves. The first “fruit of the Spirit,” the first result of the Spirit at work in our lives, is love (Galatians 5.22). The first commandment is that we love God, and the second is that we fulfill the first by loving our neighbor (Matthew 22.37, 39). When was the last time you stepped out of your routine to see someone as Jesus does?

Be practical (vs. 2-3)

The disciples followed their Master’s gaze, but for a very different reason. He saw a man in personal pain; they saw a theological question. He stopped to heal this man; they stopped to use him as an example for their theological discussion: “Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?” (v. 2).

Before we listen to Jesus’ answer, first let’s explore their question, lest we ask it ourselves. The rabbis taught that suffering is the result of sin: “There is no death without sin, and there is no suffering without iniquity” (Rabbi Ammi, in Shab. 55a, cited in Morris 478). First-century Judaism assumed that suffering was proof of divine wrath, and prosperity proof of his pleasure and reward. Such logic is not confined to ancient Judaism—every world religion holds an aspect of its claim.

Hindus believe in the law of karma, the idea that our present suffering is punishment for wrongs we committed in a previous lifetime. According to Gautama Buddha’s “First Sermon at Benares,” all suffering is due to wrong desire. Newspaper accounts following the Columbia tragedy quoted al-Qaeda sympathizers as attributing the disaster to America’s sins against Allah.

In Christian theology, the disciples’ question has been most fully formulated by St. Augustine. His “theodicy” (an account of evil in the light of God’s goodness and power) attributes suffering to the misuse of our free will. God created us to worship him; worship requires freedom; when we misuse this freedom, the consequences are not God’s fault but ours.

Often Augustine is right. I’ve seen marriages end because of adultery; I’ve buried alcoholics who died of cirrhosis of the liver; I’ve known drug users who contracted AIDS; I’ve watched students who didn’t study fail the test and then blame God or me. I know of suffering in my life which has come from my sins. You do too.

The disciples didn’t doubt that the man’s congenital blindness was the result of sin. They only want to know who to blame: “Who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?” (John 9.2). It’s hard to understand how they could believe that a man’s blindness at birth could be his own fault, but many people did. The authorities would later say to this man, “You were steeped in sin at birth; how dare you lecture us!” (John 9.34). Some Jews thought that a person could sin while still in the mother’s womb (cf. Psalm 51.5, “Surely I was sinful at birth”). Some knew the Greek idea that the soul preexisted the body (Barclay 38), and tied it to Jeremiah 1.5, “Before I formed you in the womb I knew you” and Psalm 58.3, “Even from birth the wicked go astray; from the womb they are wayward and speak lies” (cf. Beasley-Murray 155). So the disciples certainly believed this man’s blindness could be his own fault.

If not his, it must be his parents’. The Jews remembered God’s warning, “I, the Lord your God, am a jealous God, punishing the children for the sin of their fathers to the third and fourth generation of those who hate me, but showing love to a thousand generations of those who love me and keep my commandments” (Exodus 20.5-6). So the disciples were curious, not compassionate. They assumed that this man deserves his fate, and had no interest in helping him avoid it. They rushed to judgment, with no idea that the ones they judged were really themselves.

Jesus cleared up their confusion: “Neither this man nor his parents sinned, but this happened so that the work of God might be displayed in his life” (John 9.3). Some suffering is the result of sin, but such was not the case here. Much of the world’s grief and pain is not the result of anyone’s sin or failure. Remember Job’s plight; think of the Columbia astronauts and their noble quest; remember Jesus’ innocent crucifixion. To attribute all suffering to sin often increases the suffering of the innocent.

Helen Spinks was one of the most godly people I’ve ever known. She suffered with cancer all the years I knew her in Midland, and eventually died of the disease. We were talking one day shortly before the end, and I asked her the hardest part of her ordeal. She looked at me through pain-wracked eyes and told me about all the people who had told her that if she would just repent of her sins she would be healed. She wasn’t bitter about them, but I was.

In this case, the man’s inherited blindness was no one’s fault. He had certainly not sinned, and neither had his parents’ sin caused his handicap. Rather, “this happened so that the work of God might be displayed in his life.” Now it seems that we have traded one theological dilemma for another. We are comfortable with Jesus’ claim that the man’s blindness was not caused by sin. But how do we feel about the assertion that it was caused by God, to display his glory?

There can be no doubt that the Lord of the universe must permit all that happens, or he is not God. But Jesus’ answer seems to indicate that he caused this man’s blindness, through no fault of the man or his family. Fortunately, the NIV translation is not the only option. The word translated “so that” can also be rendered “with the result that” (Bruce 782, Morris 477, cf. Brown 371). As a result, his answer can be translated, “this happened with the result that the work of God might be displayed in his life.”

Herschel Hobbs suggests yet another possibility. The punctuation marks in the Greek text were placed there by editors; the originals had no punctuation except the question mark. So Hobbs rearranges the punctuation of the verse to read, “Neither this man sinned, 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 . . .” (Hobbs, Invitation 58).

I do not understand Jesus’ statement to teach that God created this man’s blindness. He permitted it, as a consequence of the natural, fallen world in which we live. When mankind fell, all of creation was affected by the fall (cf. Romans 8.22). Blindness, birth defects, cancer, and other diseases are often the result of our fallen world, not our fallen actions. So it was here.

But the Lord would redeem this suffering for his glory and the man’s good: “the work of God might be displayed in his life.” Jesus came to do the “work of God” (cf. Matthew 12.28, Mark 2.7). The healing to come is a miracle to us, but it is merely the “work” of God, his normal activity and ability (cf. Morris 479).

Jesus turned the disciples’ speculative question into practical truth. He did not tell them why the man was blind, but what God intended to do about his blindness. He did not explain the source of the pain, but its solution. In the hardest places of life, his answer is what we need.

Are you hurting along with the blind man? Are you or others asking why? Sometimes knowing the cause is important to the cure, especially if your suffering is the result of sin which must now be confessed to be cleansed (1 John 1.8-9). But often our speculative questions cannot give practical help. Knowing why the Columbia tragedy occurred will prevent future disasters, but it will not bring the Columbia astronauts back.

So we should focus on the practical. Now that we are in this place of suffering, what are we to do? How will God help us? How would he use us to help someone else? Jesus redeemed this man’s blindness by displaying his own miraculous glory, and then by leading the man to spiritual sight as well (v. 38: “the man said, ‘Lord, I believe,’ and he worshiped him”). He will redeem our pain for his glory and our good. And he will use us to do the same for those we can help.

On the brick piles of suffering, we don’t often need to know why the bricks are there. Just how to remove them from our lives.

Become Jesus’ hands (vs. 4-7)

Now you and I join our story: “As long as it is day, we must do the work of him who sent me” (John 9.4a). Note two words: “we must.” All of Jesus’ followers must “do the work of him who sent” our Lord. We are engaged in the same ministry which brought him to our planet. We are now the presence of Christ on earth, his ambassadors (2 Corinthians 5.20). How do we become Jesus’ hands?

With urgency: “Night is coming, when no man can work” (v. 4b). The King James renders this phrase, “Night cometh,” the origin of the Park Cities Baptist Church (Dallas, TX) clock tower inscription. Night was coming for Jesus: “I am with you for only a short time, and then I go to the one who sent me” (John 7.33). It is coming for us as well. None of us is promised tomorrow. We have only today to join Jesus at work.

When the night comes, “no man can work” (cf. John 11.9-10, 12.35-36). One day will be the last day. One hour will be the last hour. The “night cometh,” and all work is done. Love your Lord by loving your neighbor, with urgency.

In his power: “While I am in the world, I am the light of the world” (v. 5). The New Testament repeatedly testifies that Jesus is the spiritual light of a world darkened by sin: “In him was life, and that life was the light of men. The light shines in the darkness, but the darkness has not understood it” (John 1.4-5); “The true light that gives light to every man was coming into the world” (John 1.9); “When Jesus spoke again to the people, he said, ‘I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will not walk in darkness, but will have the light of life'” (John 8.12). His ministry fulfilled the prophet’s prediction, through whom God said, “I will also make you a light for the Gentiles, that you may bring my salvation to the ends of the earth” (Isaiah 49.6).

He is the light—we are his reflection: “God, who said, ‘Let light shine out of darkness,’ made his light shine in our hearts to give us the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Christ” (2 Corinthians 4.6). Jesus called us: “You are the light of the world” (Matthew 5.14). We are to reflect his light as the moon does the sun’s rays.

We cannot heal blind eyes, of course. But Jesus can. And so we share his power, his love, his hope. Peter said to the man crippled from birth, “Silver or gold I do not have, but what I have I give you. In the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, walk” (Acts 3.6). We pray for the one in pain. We share God’s word with the one who needs hope. We bring God’s love to the one in despair. We become Jesus’ hands, in his power.

At the level of need: “Having said this, he spit on the ground, made some mud with the saliva, and put it on the man’s eyes” (v. 6). We know why a first-century physician would do such a strange thing. Ancients like Pliny, the Roman scientist, believed that spit would cure snakes’ poison, epilepsy, lichens and leprosy, and neck pains (Barclay 42). Saliva was highly esteemed as an ancient cure for illness (Rienecker 240).

But we wouldn’t expect a Jewish rabbi to attempt this cure. The rabbis warned against using spittle for medicine because of its frequent connection with medical practices (Beasley-Murray 155). Also, making mud with the spit and then applying that mud to the eyes were both acts forbidden on the Sabbath (Rienecker 240, Robertson 162, Morris 480, Barclay 44-5). Later the authorities would raise this very objection: “Some of the Pharisees said, ‘This man is not from God, for he does not keep the Sabbath'” (v. 16).

So two questions arise. Why would Jesus accommodate himself to a belief he knew to be more superstition than medicine? He healed other blind eyes without using spit and mud, showing that the miracle was not in the dirt but the One who first created it (cf. Mark 10.46-52; Matthew 9.27-31; 12.22; 15.30; 21.14). And why would he be willing to flaunt rabbinic conventions to use spit-made mud here?

Our text does not say, but I can think of no reason except that the blind man needed this accommodation. He knew Jesus’ action to be accepted medical practice. To our knowledge, he had no previous information regarding Jesus’ healing powers. Had the Divine Physician not acted as a human doctor, it is likely that his patient would not have accepted his cure.

The application to us is simple: meet need on its level. It’s hard to talk to a hungry man about his soul before we feed his body. There is little point in explaining fully Augustine’s free-will theodicy to a man dying of cancer. Win the trust of the person you are called to help. Develop relationship—establish common ground—earn confidence. Is someone in your class hurting today? Meet them where they hurt. Learn their pain. Join their grief. Connect with their suffering, before you try to bring it to the Savior.

Jewish theology taught that touching a “sinner” like this man implicated the person in his sin. But Jesus touched the man’s eyes, all the same. So must we.

Call to faith: “‘Go,’ he told him, ‘wash in the Pool of Siloam’ (this word means Sent). So the man went and washed, and came home seeing” (v. 7). Now Jesus asked the man to trust him. Washing in the pool of Siloam was not part of any accepted medical practice. And it required sacrifice on the part of a blind man.

The pool of Siloam was one of the great landmarks in ancient Jerusalem. The reservoir is 53 feet long, 18 feet across, and 19 feet deep, with columns built into the side walls (Hovey 204). It is a pool with a marvelous history.

When King Hezekiah was at war with Assyria, seven centuries before Christ, he became concerned about the city’s water supply. The spring of Gihon, situated in the Kidron Valley below Jerusalem, was and is a constant source of water. But the spring was completely exposed, and could only be reached by climbing down the 33 steps carved into the side of the mountain on which Jerusalem had been built. During war, this water source could easily be compromised (Barclay 42-3).

Hezekiah had the spring of Gihon channeled into the city, by building the tunnel which created the pool of Siloam. This “tunnel of Hezekiah” was chiseled for 1748 feet through solid rock. It was rediscovered in 1880, with Hezekiah’s inscription recounting its completion: “The boring through is completed. Now is the story of the boring through. While the workmen were still lifting pick to pick, each towards his neighbor, and while three cubits remained to be cut through, each heard the voice of the other who called his neighbor, since there was a crevice in the rock on the right side. And on the day of the boring through the stonecutters struck, each to meet his fellow, pick to pick; and there flowed the waters to the pool for a thousand and two hundred cubits, and a hundred cubits was the height of the rock above the heads of the stonecutters” (Barclay 43).

The pool took its name from this historic event: it was called the Hebrew word for “sent,” since waters were “sent” into it through the tunnel Hezekiah had constructed. My last time in Jerusalem, I walked, stooped over, the length of the tunnel to the pool, to find children swimming in it.

Jesus sent the blind man to one of the most famous pools in Jewish history. But we’re not sure the distance this trip required. If Jesus’ encounter with the man took place outside the Temple (which was likely, as beggars usually congregated there), then the man had to walk to the southern end of the city, a considerable distance and hardship for a blind person. But since the waters of the pool were used during the celebration of the Feast of Tabernacles which had just ended, it is possible that Jesus and the blind man were both in its vicinity (cf. NIB 653).

Whatever the distance, Jesus’ patient walked it: “The man went and washed, and came home seeing” (v. 7). Here we see the divine-human partnership at work again. Jesus would heal the man’s eyes, but he would have to wash them first. He did what he could, and Jesus did what he could not.

Similar faith was required of Naaman the leper. Remember his reluctance to obey the prophet Elisha’s prescription to wash in the Jordan river. Finally he did, “and his flesh was restored and became clean like that of a young boy” (2 Kings 5.14). And so the man “washed” his eyes—the word means that he bathed his eyes, not merely splashing or washing them (Robertson 163).

With this result: he “came home seeing.” In the same way, the man crippled from birth got up at Peter’s word and with his help, and “instantly the man’s feet and ankles became strong. He jumped to his feet and began to walk” (Acts 3.7-8). God requires our faith, not to earn his power but to receive it.

Jesus’ physical healing soon became spiritual. The authorities, with no compassion for the man’s healing, were concerned only that his miracle occurred on the Sabbath. So they wanted to know how he received his sight at the hands of a “sinner” who would break their Sabbath rules. His reply is my favorite witness in Scripture: “One thing I do know. I was blind but now I see!” (v. 25). He paid for his faith with expulsion from the synagogue and faith community (v. 34), condemnation which isolated him from his family, friends, and intended future.

But not from Jesus: “Jesus heard that they had thrown him out, and when he found him, he said, ‘Do you believe in the Son of Man?'” (v. 35). Just as our Lord initiated the man’s physical healing, so he took the initiative for his spiritual salvation. And the man who had been healed in body was healed in soul (v. 38).

Now you and I are enlisted in Jesus’ continuing work as his spiritual physicians. We are to do for those we know what Jesus did for us. Jesus came to us with urgent compassion. He met our need with his power, and led us to faith. Now we are to do the same for those we can help. Believing all the while that the One who healed blind eyes and blind hearts will use us as his hands today.

Do for others what Jesus did for this blind man. See their need. Be practical in helping meet it. Become Jesus’ hands with urgency, bringing God’s power to their need, calling them to faith in him. Believe that God will use you. And he will.

John Patton was a missionary in the South Pacific in the early 1800’s. After working for a year, not a single person had come to Christ. People attended his Bible studies and nodded approvingly, but would not respond to his invitation to faith. He began to considering a move to another mission field, and prayed that the Lord would give him just one convert. If one man came to Christ, he reasoned, he could move on while knowing that the work would continue there.

For eight years he worked and prayed for that one convert. Then one morning, Patton awoke to see the entire population of the island, 1200 people, assembled near his home. The chief said, “We are all ready to receive Christ.” Patton was stunned. He learned that tribal culture required that no one receive Christ until all were ready. He spent three days baptizing the 1200 converts. He had prayed for one to be saved, but God saved them all.

To open blind eyes, there is only one requirement: we must first open ours.