“How were your eyes opened?”
In the center of the gathering stood a man who claimed he had been blind until recently. Surrounded by the sharp, scrutinizing eyes of the Pharisees, he looked somewhat intimidated and replied in a quiet voice.
“He put mud on my eyes, I washed, and I see.”
Jesus had angered many people in the temple that day, and once again, he stirred controversy by healing someone on the Sabbath. By this point, the patience of the Pharisees was wearing thin; some even suspected he was intentionally choosing the Sabbath to heal. So this time, they summoned the man who was said to have been healed and began to question him.
The outcome of the interrogation split into two main opinions. The majority said:
“This man is not from God, because he doesn’t keep the Sabbath.”
No matter how many miracles Jesus performed, as long as he did not observe the Sabbath, they believed he could not be from God. The minority argued:
“How can a man who is a sinner do such signs?”
My friend Nicodemus belonged to this group. Their reasoning was sound: for Jews, there is only one God. If Jesus was not from God, then from whom could he have come? To say he came from another god would be to deny their faith, which was unthinkable. The only alternative would be to claim he performed miracles by the power of Satan, but that was problematic, as all his miracles brought good and healing, and he never accepted anything in return.
Because both sides had reasonable arguments, the debate remained unresolved. I myself was still struggling to discern what was right, so I had not taken a side. Though I had been shocked and angered by some of the things Jesus said in the temple, I could not easily dismiss his words. Others seemed to feel the same; even amid the noisy arguments, a few people sat quietly. One finally spoke to the man.
“What do you say about him, because he opened your eyes?”
“He is a prophet.”
A faint smile appeared at the corners of the man’s mouth, as if this was the most natural thing to say. How could he be so certain?
I thought back to what I had heard from the man about that moment. He said that, as usual, he was sitting by the roadside when he suddenly heard someone ask:
“Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?”
He felt a bit upset by those words, but since he had heard them more than once before, he tried to just let it go. But what he heard next was something he had never heard in his entire life.
“Neither did this man sin, nor his parents; but, that the works of God might be revealed in him. I must work the works of him who sent me while it is day. The night is coming, when no one can work. While I am in the world, I am the light of the world.”
Hearing this, I couldn’t help but be amazed. Having spent my life judging everything by the law, always dividing things into sin or innocence, I never imagined there could be another way of seeing the world. That it was no one’s sin, but rather so that the works of God might be revealed—who could have ever thought of such a thing?
I may not understand everything yet, but at least in this, I can say with certainty that Jesus is the light of the world. He showed me a perspective I never even knew existed, as if I had been living in darkness until now.
Anyway, after those words, the man said that someone put mud on his eyes and told him to wash in the pool of Siloam. He followed the instructions, went to the pool in the lower city, washed, and immediately his sight was restored. When people saw the man who had been blind now able to see, they were amazed, and the news spread quickly. When asked how he came to see, the man answered, “A man called Jesus made mud, anointed my eyes, and said to me, ‘Go to the pool of Siloam and wash.’ So I went away and washed, and I received sight.”
It should have been a cause for celebration that a man had regained his sight, but because he was healed on the Sabbath, this investigation was now taking place. When the man answered, “He is a prophet,” I saw many Pharisees frown at his words and the expression on the man’s face. They were determined to reject whatever the man said, angry because they could not get the answers they wanted. What could possibly satisfy them? Even after the man left, the questioning continued. The leaders of the interrogation remained those opposed to Jesus.
“How can we know that what this man says is true? Could he not be lying?”
“That’s right. How can we trust the word of a beggar?”
There were counterarguments:
“All the people who knew him testify unanimously that he was blind. So his words must be true.”
But the rebuttals were just as strong:
“Is it not possible that he has deceived others all along? Maybe he just wants to keep begging because he doesn’t want to work.”
Watching them, I began to feel more and more irritated. Lately, the behavior of the Pharisees has grown increasingly grating to me, so it’s clear my own heart is not what it used to be. No matter how much the man who was blind speaks the truth, they have already made up their minds; nothing he says will convince them. They had decided from the start to reject Jesus and only needed evidence to support their opinion. If they act like this even in the face of truth, how much worse will they be in the future? I am deeply worried.
As Joseph of Arimathea had feared, the Pharisees who made up the majority resolved that anyone who confessed Jesus as the Christ would be expelled from the synagogue. Their next step was to expose the man’s supposed falsehood. They believed that if they could prove the man was not blind from birth, they could accuse all those healed by Jesus of fabricating lies. So, they summoned the man and his parents.
“Is this your son, whom you say was born blind? How then does he now see?”
“We know that this is our son, and that he was born blind; but how he now sees, we don’t know; or who opened his eyes, we don’t know. He is of age. Ask him. He will speak for himself.”
The man’s parents, looking frightened as the Pharisees glared at them, testified that their son had been blind from birth, but they consistently claimed ignorance about how he had come to see. They already knew who had healed their son, but under such a threatening atmosphere, they could not bring themselves to answer. After all, they had been warned beforehand that anyone confessing Jesus as the Christ would be expelled from the synagogue. Who could speak the truth under such pressure?
Seeing the parents’ reluctance, the Pharisees brought the formerly blind man before them again.
“Give glory to God. We know that this man is a sinner.”
The Pharisees threatened him with dire consequences if he did not agree. Whereas the previous interrogation had been a simple attempt to uncover the truth, this time they were forcing him to confess falsely. Watching the Pharisees’ behavior, Joseph of Arimathea became increasingly disheartened. From their perspective, this might have been a fight to uphold truth, but he questioned whether righteousness and truth truly resided within such malicious methods.
“I don’t know if he is a sinner. One thing I do know: that though I was blind, now I see.”
Joseph of Arimathea bowed his head in distress. At that moment, the man’s confident voice reached his ears. Until recently, the man had been too intimidated to answer properly in such an atmosphere, so this change surprised Joseph deeply. Like his friend Nicodemus, why were all those who met Jesus changing in this way? What was it about Jesus that gave people such courage? Joseph stared intently at the man.
“What did he do to you? How did he open your eyes?”
“I told you already, and you didn’t listen. Why do you want to hear it again? You don’t also want to become his disciples, do you?”
Now the man was not only confident but boldly questioned them. Many Pharisees responded with curses:
“You are his disciple, but we are disciples of Moses. We know that God has spoken to Moses. But as for this man, we don’t know where he comes from.”
But he refused to back down.
“How amazing! You don’t know where he comes from, yet he opened my eyes. We know that God doesn’t listen to sinners, but if anyone is a worshiper of God and does his will, he listens to him. Since the world began it has never been heard of that anyone opened the eyes of someone born blind. If this man were not from God, he could do nothing.”
“You were altogether born in sins, and do you teach us?”
With these words, they threw him out. Joseph of Arimathea watched the Pharisees stomp away angrily, feeling despair. While the man who had been blind rejoiced at gaining his sight, they wasted time arguing over sin or innocence. Was it not more important to understand what God truly desired? Why were they obsessed with trivial matters?
Joseph recalled a passage from the prophet Zechariah:
“I will no more pity the inhabitants of the land, says Yahweh; but, behold, I will deliver the men every one into his neighbor’s hand, and into the hand of his king. They will strike the land, and out of their hand I will not deliver them.”
Truly, these people are deserving of such judgment from God. They are the very ones who have forced Him to break the staff of grace and unity. And the one who has suffered their insults and wounds is a fellow Israelite—a man who was once a blind beggar and has only just opened his eyes to the world.
He must be shown that there are not only such wicked people in this world.
With this thought, Joseph of Arimathea quickly rose and left the meeting hall.
* * *
Where the man was found stood the one who had opened his eyes and brought light to a dark world—the Light of the World.
“Do you believe in the Son of God?”
“Who is he, Lord, that I may believe in him?”
The man saw the one who smiled at him warmly.
“You have both seen him, and it is he who speaks with you.”
“Lord, I believe!”
Seeing the man fall to his knees before Him, Joseph of Arimathea felt a deep ache in his heart. Yes, what the people truly needed was not the Pharisees, the scribes, or the Sadducees, but someone like Him—a true shepherd.
“I came into this world for judgment, that those who don’t see may see; and that those who see may become blind.”
Some Pharisees standing nearby heard this and, appearing offended, said,
“Are we also blind?”
“If you were blind, you would have no sin; but now you say, ‘We see.’ Therefore your sin remains.”
As always, the Pharisees’ faces hardened. Joseph of Arimathea shook his head and thought: No, you shouldn’t let yourself stumble over this. These words aren’t given to trip you up, but to call you to repentance while there is still time.
“Most certainly, I tell you, one who doesn’t enter by the door into the sheep fold, but climbs up some other way, is a thief and a robber. But one who enters in by the door is the shepherd of the sheep. The gatekeeper opens the gate for him, and the sheep listen to his voice. He calls his own sheep by name, and leads them out. Whenever he brings out his own sheep, he goes before them, and the sheep follow him, for they know his voice. They will by no means follow a stranger, but will flee from him; for they don’t know the voice of strangers.”
Though the meaning of His words was still unclear, it did not matter. Even if nothing was understood now, the day would come when understanding would dawn. Just as the world once dark would be brightened by light, so too would those who did not understand come to know.
He spoke again:
“Most certainly, I tell you, I am the sheep’s door. All who came before me are thieves and robbers, but the sheep didn’t listen to them. I am the door. If anyone enters in by me, he will be saved, and will go in and go out, and will find pasture. The thief only comes to steal, kill, and destroy. I came that they may have life, and may have it abundantly. I am the good shepherd. The good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep. He who is a hired hand, and not a shepherd, who doesn’t own the sheep, sees the wolf coming, leaves the sheep, and flees. The wolf snatches the sheep, and scatters them. The hired hand flees because he is a hired hand, and doesn’t care for the sheep. I am the good shepherd. I know my own, and I’m known by my own; even as the Father knows me, and I know the Father. I lay down my life for the sheep. I have other sheep, which are not of this fold. I must bring them also, and they will hear my voice. They will become one flock with one shepherd. Therefore the Father loves me, because I lay down my life, that I may take it again. No one takes it away from me, but I lay it down by myself. I have power to lay it down, and I have power to take it again. I received this commandment from my Father.”
The passages from Zechariah 11:6, John 9:2-10:18 quoted in this narrative are taken directly from the World English Bible (WEB) translation.
Listen to the audiobook now.
