The Light that Blinds: Why the Experts Missed the Miracle in John 9

 In the Gospel of John, sight is never just about optics; it is about orientation. The narrative of the man born blind presents what scholars call the "Johannine Paradox"—the startling reality that physical vision can function as a veil, while physical darkness can become a doorway to the Truth.

As Jesus encounters the man in Jerusalem, he is not merely performing a medical miracle. He is navigating a minefield of traditional theology, social exclusion, and religious expertise. In this story, the categories of "blind" and "sighted" are completely inverted, challenging us to consider whether our own certainty is the very thing preventing us from seeing the work of God.

Deconstructing the Scorecard of Suffering

The narrative opens with a question that betrays a rigid, merit-based theology. Seeing the man, the disciples ask, “Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?” This reflects a common ancient assumption—one that persists today—that suffering is a direct dividend of iniquity. It treats the human condition as a scorecard of divine retribution.

Jesus fundamentally deconstructs this logic. He shifts the framework from "cause" to "purpose," moving from a theology of punishment to a theology of revelation. By asserting that the man’s condition is an opportunity for God’s works to be displayed, Jesus offers a liberating concept: suffering is not a mark of shame, but a canvas for grace.

"Jesus answered, 'Neither this man nor his parents sinned; he was born blind so that God’s works might be revealed in him.'" (John 9:3)

The Paradox of the "Sighted" Expert

One of the sharpest ironies in the text is the "blindness" of the religious authorities. The Pharisees are the established experts, yet their rigid expertise becomes a theological cage. Because Jesus "kneaded" mud—a technical violation of Sabbath work prohibitions—the experts are logically forced to conclude that Jesus is a "sinner" and therefore cannot be from God.

This blindness is compounded by ancient physiological beliefs. At the time, many believed the eyes were windows through which internal light radiated outward. In the Pharisees' view, the blind man was full of internal darkness. Yet, Jesus reveals the opposite: the experts are the ones whose "sin remains" because they claim "We see." Their willful certainty creates a spiritual cataract; they are so sure of how God must act that they cannot see how God is acting.

The Social Cost of Aposynagogos

To understand the tension of this narrative, we must recognize the specific Greek term aposynagogos. Appearing only in the Gospel of John, this word describes the terrifying reality of being "put out of the synagogue." For the early Johannine community and the characters in the text, this wasn't just a religious snub; it was a total social death, a severance from familial and communal support systems.

We see the realism of this fear in the man’s parents. When interrogated, they point to their son, saying, "He is of age," desperately trying to avoid the authorities' wrath. This "historical anxiety" highlights the man’s courage. While his parents shrink in the face of political and social pressure, the man refuses to reduce his experience to what is acceptable to the establishment. He chooses the truth over the safety of the synagogue.

When the Beggar Becomes the Teacher

In a brilliant theological reversal, the marginalized beggar becomes the logic professor for the religious elite. When the authorities demand he "give glory to God" by denouncing Jesus—an ironic request, as the healing has already glorified God—the man responds with a devastatingly simple conclusion.

He argues from a shared premise: "We know that God does not listen to sinners, but he does listen to one who worships him." Since Jesus has performed an unprecedented miracle, the logic is inescapable: Jesus must be from God. Frustrated by a beggar they cannot refute, the authorities resort to loidoreo—a unique Greek term in the Gospels meaning to "revile" or deeply insult. They choose to expel the witness rather than engage the evidence, or to "see" themselves.

"He answered, 'I do not know whether he is a sinner. One thing I do know, that though I was blind, now I see.'" (John 9:25)

Sight as a Journey of Relationship

True sight, in the Johannine sense, is not a momentary physical event but a progressive journey of relationship. This is mirrored in the setting: Jesus sends the man to the pool of Siloam (meaning "Sent"). This pool provided the water for temple libations during Sukkoth, the Festival of Tabernacles. By sending the man there, Jesus suggests that He, not the temple rites, is the true source of "Living Water" and the "Light of the World."

The man’s understanding of Jesus matures in stages: from "the man called Jesus," to "a prophet," and finally to a confession of faith in the "Son of Man." Interestingly, some ancient textual variants read "Son of God" in verse 35, highlighting the early church's struggle to name the magnitude of this revelation. In the end, sight is defined as an "Invitation to Abundant Life"—the capacity to recognize and worship the Light that has entered the world.

Living in the Light

The story of John 9 concludes with a radical vision of the Kingdom. It is a kingdom that moves toward the outcast, offering a space where the marginalized can tell their own truth clearly. It upends the boundaries of inclusion, showing that those driven out by the religious establishment are often the very ones Jesus seeks out to find.

"Kingdom Vision" asks us to see our neighbors not through the labels of "sinner" or "beggar," but as members of one family. As we move through our own communities, we must confront the same question the Pharisees faced: What "willful blindness" is preventing us from seeing the work of God today? Are we so convinced of our own "sight" that we are missing the miracles happening right in front of us?

Encountering the Messiah: Abundant Life

We’re going to begin today as we did last week. With a little game. This is a game of seeking and finding. Behind me, throughout the space in my apartment that should be visible to you, you’ll find several crosses. I invite you to look for them and to count them as you look. I’ll give you just a minute to do that.

So, who found at least four crosses? You can give me a real thumbs up or use the “thumbs up” on Zoom. Who found five crosses? Six? Seven? There are seven paper crosses!

The reason there are seven different crosses is because in the Gospel of John there are seven signs or miracles that Jesus performs. Remember last week? When Jesus promised Nathaniel that he would see “even greater things?” These signs and miracles are part of the greater things that Jesus promised. In today’s lesson, we will see Jesus’ first sign.

On the third day there was a wedding in Cana of Galilee. Jesus’ mother was there, and Jesus and his disciples were also invited to the celebration. When the wine ran out, Jesus’ mother said to him, “They don’t have any wine.”

Jesus replied, “Woman, what does that have to do with me? My time hasn’t come yet.”

His mother told the servants, “Do whatever he tells you.” Nearby were six stone water jars used for the Jewish cleansing ritual, each able to hold about twenty or thirty gallons

Jesus said to the servants, “Fill the jars with water,” and they filled them to the brim. Then he told them, “Now draw some from them and take it to the headwaiter,” and they did. The headwaiter tasted the water that had become wine. He didn’t know where it came from, though the servants who had drawn the water knew.

The headwaiter called the groom and said, “Everyone serves the good wine first. They bring out the second-rate wine only when the guests are drinking freely. You kept the good wine until now.” This was the first miraculous sign that Jesus did in Cana of Galilee. He revealed his glory, and his disciples believed in him. --John 2:1-11 (CEB)

Grace, mercy and peace to you from God our Father, and from our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. Amen.

We might ask why the beginning of Jesus’ ministry begins at a wedding. Does anyone have any idea?

Let’s be honest - Jesus liked parties. He liked people. As we will see in the gospel of John, he especially liked sinners. The Jesus captured in John is a relational Jesus. Always in conversation with people. So, it makes sense that this first sign - this first miracle - should be at a celebration of relationships. The joining of two people in relationship. And their families, too. 

Weddings in Jesus’ day were a big deal. They lasted for days. Running out of wine was a huge problem for this wedding feast. The host had invited everyone to come and to celebrate. Many people probably traveled far to get there. And, now, there is nothing left for them to drink. They wouldn’t have been able to just go to the store or to make a quick run to Total Wine to get some more. Jesus’ mother - and notice that she is not named and, in fact, this is the last time we will see her until we meet her at the foot of the cross - Jesus’ mother notices that they have run out of wine. She knows that he can do something about this. So she encourages Jesus to help. Gives him a little nudge. “Come on, Jesus. It’s time for you to show the world who you are.”

But, Jesus’ response to her seems a little harsh. “Woman, what does that have to do with me?” A female clergy group I’m online with had a real problem with Jesus speaking to his mother in this way. It seems so impersonal, even unfriendly. And, while there may be many other theological reasons for this, I asked them online if any of them had a 33-year-old son. Because if you do, you know the comments that they will make to you, accompanied by the eye-rolls, right? Like, “Geez, Mom, gimme a break!” Or even “Woman, what are you talking about?” So, even with Jesus’ mother knowing his divinity, there’s something here, too, about his humanity. That he is both. Which also includes being a 33-year-old son.

But, Jesus listens to her. And then he takes these six large clay vessels. Each of them with a capacity of 20-30 gallons. And he transforms the water in them - water that was likely meant for washing and not drinking. He transforms this water into the best wine of all! But, it wasn’t just that it was the best wine of all. But, it was the amount of it. The abundance of the wine Jesus made. I did the math this week. We’re talking anywhere from 140-180 gallons of wine. That’s the equivalent of 700-900 bottles of wine. At 12 bottles per case, that’s anywhere from 58 to 75 cases of wine. So this wasn’t only the best wine. It was a huge amount - an abundant amount - of the best wine. 

The chief steward is blown away. He wonders where this wine came from. I bet the bridegroom was wondering, too. But Jesus’ mother knew. So did the servants, too. 

In the opening words of this gospel of John, what we call the prologue, we heard this witness of John: “‘He who comes after me is greater than me because he existed before me.’ From his fullness we have all received grace upon grace.” From his fullness we have all received grace upon grace.

I mentioned at the beginning that this is the first of seven signs. These signs that point the disciples and others (and us) to understand who this Jesus is and why he has come. If we continue in John’s witness we read that it is through him - God’s only Son, that God is made known to us. It is this God - revealed to us in Christ - that we learn desires only life for us. Abundant life. Bottles and cases and gallons of life for us.

I recognize that in these past couple of years and, especially, in these past few weeks it’s been hard to see that. Maybe even hard to believe this - that God desires only the most abundant life for us, a life that overflows with all of the goodness and relationships and love that you and I can imagine. 

But, as we work our way through John and through the remaining six signs it will be the last sign that will make all the difference. For Jesus’ mother. For Jesus’ disciples. And for us. That sign - the cross - will take the most hopeless of moments and transform it into the most abundant, life-giving, “grace upon grace upon grace” moment of all. For us.

May we recognize these signs that point us to God. And may we hold fast to the promise of abundant life that God promises for us, through Jesus. Amen.

Preached January 16, 2022, online with Grace & Glory, Prospect, and Third, Louisville.

Epiphany 2

Readings: John 2:1-11, Psalm 104:14-16

 

Encountering the Messiah: Abundance

On the third day there was a wedding in Cana of Galilee, and the mother of Jesus was there. Jesus and his disciples had also been invited to the wedding. When the wine gave out, the mother of Jesus said to him, “They have no wine.” And Jesus said to her, “Woman, what concern is that to you and to me? My hour has not yet come.” His mother said to the servants, “Do whatever he tells you.” Now standing there were six stone water jars for the Jewish rites of purification, each holding twenty or thirty gallons. Jesus said to them, “Fill the jars with water.” And they filled them up to the brim. He said to them, “Now draw some out, and take it to the chief steward.” So they took it. When the steward tasted the water that had become wine, and did not know where it came from (though the servants who had drawn the water knew), the steward called the bridegroom and said to him, “Everyone serves the good wine first, and then the inferior wine after the guests have become drunk. But you have kept the good wine until now.” Jesus did this, the first of his signs, in Cana of Galilee, and revealed his glory; and his disciples believed in him. John 2:1-11 (NRSV)

Grace and peace to you from our Lord and Savior, the Messiah, Jesus Christ, the Lord. Amen.

Directly north of San Antonio, Texas, is a geographic region located in the Edwards Plateau. This area, which is called the Texas Hill Country, is located at the crossroads of West Texas, Central Texas, and South Texas. It’s also often considered the entry to the American Southwest or the American Southeast, depending on which direction one is traveling.

According to Wikipedia, it’s an area that is known for its karst topography, formed from the dissolution of soluble rocks such as limestone, dolomite, and gypsum. The terrain has a thin layer of topsoil and a large number of exposed rocks and boulders, which makes it very dry and very prone to flash flooding. It’s a scrub landscape with native vegetation that includes the yucca plant, prickly pear cactus, the ashe juniper, the Texas live oak, and wildflowers--oh, the wildflowers! In the spring, the wildflowers--particularly, the Texas bluebonnet--are everywhere.

It was settled by German immigrants in the mid-1800’s, most of whom were farmers. Today, though, this area is known mostly for tourism. And more recently, it has emerged as the center of the Texas wine industry.

I moved to Texas in the summer of 2010. That fall, as the heat of summer began to fade, my brother and sister-in-law and I decided to head to the Hill Country to taste some of that Texas wine. We decided to try out a couple of wineries in an area that was just beginning to develop--northwest of Austin, near Lake Buchanan. As we were at our last stop, our host suggested and highly recommended that we check out a brand new winery that had just opened, a few miles away off a hilly, winding, back-country road. So, we went to visit Perisso’s Vineyard and Winery.

The winery consisted of one building. On the first floor was a big open room that contained huge metal wine vats, dozens of barrels, and a few picnic tables set up for tasting. It was a pretty bare-bones operation. We soon learned that the second floor was occupied by the owners of this boutique winery--Seth and Laura Martin, and their five children. And two dogs--one a Lab and the other a huge, furry Newfoundland, named Bear. We settled at one of the picnic tables. And then we began to taste. To taste--as one of their hosts called it--to taste this “life-changing” wine.  

Over time, Perisso’s became our favorite winery. We’d stop in several times a year. We got to know Seth and Laura and their family well. In fact, we became good friends. We’d get up early in the hot August heat and help them harvest. We’d drop in on Sunday afternoons and sit under one of the huge oak trees, tasting their newest varietal and finding out which child it was named after. And each time we visited, we’d get caught up on what was happening in their family, Bear would come and hang out with us, and, yes, we’d taste wine. Some of the best wine, in fact, that I’ve ever tasted.

Over time the winery grew. They added two more buildings, an event center and another for processing and storage. Their wine club list grew from under a hundred into the thousands. And several of their wines began to win awards. First in Texas. Then, across the U.S., including at the San Francisco International Wine Competition, one of the most prestigious in the world.  They truly lived into their name, Perisso’s, which in Greek means “abundance.” 

Like the story of Perisso’s Vineyard, wine and extraordinary abundance are at the center of our story today. 

But it didn’t begin so extraordinarily. In fact, it began with something pretty ordinary--a wedding. Yet, in the opening verse of our text, we already get a signal that this story may not be so ordinary. “On the third day,” we read. Does that bring something to mind? “On the third day.” When we hear these words, we know that something new is about to happen. They signal resurrection, a new and abundant life. The extraordinary. But it all begins in the ordinary. With a wedding.

Weddings in ancient Palestine lasted approximately a week, with an abundance of wine expected throughout the celebration. Jesus is a guest at the wedding in our story, along with his mother and his disciples. This is the first time in John that we are introduced to Jesus’ mother, who is never called by name in this fourth Gospel. She is simply called the “mother of Jesus.” We will see her only twice in this Gospel. Here, in this story, and at the foot of the cross with the beloved disciple. She is here at the start of Jesus’ public ministry. She will be at the end of his life. She is witness to the first revelation of Jesus’ glory and his last. In John, there is an implied shared parenthood between the earthly mother of Jesus and the heavenly Father. There is no separation or compartmentalization of Jesus’ humanity and divinity. There is no either/or. There is simply a both/and. 

Jesus’ mother comes to him to report that the wine has run out. Such an occurrence would be a major hospitality blunder. So, she approaches Jesus and says, “They ran out of wine.” Why? What does she see in that moment? What has she seen in her life with him this far that would cause her to believe that there was something he might be able to do about it? 

And how does Jesus respond? We can’t miss some of the humor here. “Well, mom, it’s really not my problem. Perhaps they should have hired a better wedding planner.” So, Jesus’ mother walks away. But, as she leaves, she stops to speak to one of the servants. “Do whatever he tells you.” She knows what will happen if he does what Jesus tells him to do. She believes in Jesus.

Something does happen. The miracle, the sign. The first sign pointing to who Jesus is and to the meaning of the phrase “grace upon grace” happens.  And it happens in an over-the-top way. Six jars. Twenty to thirty gallons per jar, filled to the brim. In today’s production standards, that would be a thousand bottles of wine. Not the cheapest, but the best wine. And at the end of the celebration. Extraordinary.

What I have figured out in these years since my family and I first visited Perisso’s Vineyard is that, while we first came for the wine, we have continued to come for the relationships. It is in the ordinariness of our friendship, our relationship with Seth and Laura and my family, that we have experienced deep abundance--the extraordinary in the midst of the ordinary. 

It’s the same for us here. We might come seeking the extraordinary. We might come seeking the miracles. Yet, we find it in the ordinary. In the grace of our day-to-day lives. In the grace of our day-to-day relationship with Jesus and one another. In the grace of Jesus’ death and resurrection and ascension and the promise of ours. Grace upon grace upon grace. Abundantly. In an over-the-top way.

Come. 

Come and see. 

Experience the extraordinary in the midst of the ordinary. The divine in the midst of the human. The grace upon grace upon grace. Abundantly. For you and for me and for everyone. In Jesus.

Amen.

Preached January 14, 2018, at Grace & Glory Lutheran Church, Goshen, KY.
2nd Sunday after the Epiphany
Readings: Psalm 104:14-16; John 2:1-11