As he went along, he saw a man blind from
birth. His
disciples asked him, “Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was
born blind?”
“Neither this man nor his parents sinned,” said Jesus, “but this happened so that the works of God might be displayed in him. As long as it is day, we must do the works of him who sent me. Night is coming, when no one can work. While I am in the world, I am the light of the world.”
After saying this, he spit on the ground, made some mud with the saliva, and put it on the man’s eyes. “Go,” he told him, “wash in the Pool of Siloam” (this word means “Sent”). So the man went and washed, and came home seeing.
His neighbors and those who had formerly seen him begging asked, “Isn’t this the same man who used to sit and beg?” Some claimed that he was.
Others said, “No, he only looks like him.”
But he himself insisted, “I am the man.”
“How then were your eyes opened?” they asked.
He replied, “The man they call Jesus made some mud and put it on my eyes. He told me to go to Siloam and wash. So I went and washed, and then I could see.”
“Where is this man?” they asked him.
“I don’t know,” he said. (John 9:1-12)
Why do bad things happen? Sometimes…sometimes it is so God can do good. I can’t state it as a Truth, but I suspect that everything that happens, whether good or bad in our eyes, reveals something of God in it. So, Dad’s back in the hospital. I don’t know if this is the fifth, sixth, or seventh trip since the beginning of December. Telling the story will only make me angry. Suffice to say that the first routine replacement of his catheter didn’t go “as planned.” It’s been a tough winter. In some ways it’s been tougher than when Mom was sick, because it’s open ended. First it seems like we’re going to lose him, then he seems to recover, then ….
I know God is good. Even in the mess that is my life, and perhaps especially in the mess that is my life, I know God is good. But I have to admit, I’m not seeing the works of God displayed in Dad, or in the situation, and I am far too close to see them in me. Some might say, “Well, if your God is so good, and bad things happen to reveal the works of God, where are they in your life?” Maybe nowhere.
The man born blind was blind for years before Jesus healed him. Scripture doesn’t tell all of the twists and turns his life took. We might quickly say that his having to beg on the streets was bad…and sad. Dad’s been having problems for three months. If you want to stretch it to its longest possible point, he’s been having problems for nine months, but not for every moment of that time.
We tend to want it now, especially when it involves pain and our loved one, or pain and ourselves. But yesterday, I discussed the possibility that God might mean something different when He says “death” than we do. Similarly, for a being who has lived forever, and will live forever, the years that this man spent blind, or that Abraham waited before Isaac was born, may still be part of “immediate.” We see this in the difference of perspective between children and adults. Ask a kid to wait five minutes, and you’d think the world will end. Ask this adult to wait five minutes and you haven’t given me enough time to get anything done. The Psalmist wrote about our lives being like smoke. Three months, or nine months, or nine years, it’s really not that long.
The other problem is the fact that we are also blind. We don’t see clearly what God is up to. What twists and turns took place in the blind man’s life in order to bring him where he was? What developed in him the faith that would lead him to go wash in a specific pool when Jesus told him to? I’ve been blessed with some clear direction changes in my life. I may not be going where I think I’m going, but I know God is directing me wherever I am going.
“Neither this man nor his parents sinned,” said Jesus, “but this happened so that the works of God might be displayed in him. As long as it is day, we must do the works of him who sent me. Night is coming, when no one can work. While I am in the world, I am the light of the world.”
After saying this, he spit on the ground, made some mud with the saliva, and put it on the man’s eyes. “Go,” he told him, “wash in the Pool of Siloam” (this word means “Sent”). So the man went and washed, and came home seeing.
His neighbors and those who had formerly seen him begging asked, “Isn’t this the same man who used to sit and beg?” Some claimed that he was.
Others said, “No, he only looks like him.”
But he himself insisted, “I am the man.”
“How then were your eyes opened?” they asked.
He replied, “The man they call Jesus made some mud and put it on my eyes. He told me to go to Siloam and wash. So I went and washed, and then I could see.”
“Where is this man?” they asked him.
“I don’t know,” he said. (John 9:1-12)
Why do bad things happen? Sometimes…sometimes it is so God can do good. I can’t state it as a Truth, but I suspect that everything that happens, whether good or bad in our eyes, reveals something of God in it. So, Dad’s back in the hospital. I don’t know if this is the fifth, sixth, or seventh trip since the beginning of December. Telling the story will only make me angry. Suffice to say that the first routine replacement of his catheter didn’t go “as planned.” It’s been a tough winter. In some ways it’s been tougher than when Mom was sick, because it’s open ended. First it seems like we’re going to lose him, then he seems to recover, then ….
I know God is good. Even in the mess that is my life, and perhaps especially in the mess that is my life, I know God is good. But I have to admit, I’m not seeing the works of God displayed in Dad, or in the situation, and I am far too close to see them in me. Some might say, “Well, if your God is so good, and bad things happen to reveal the works of God, where are they in your life?” Maybe nowhere.
The man born blind was blind for years before Jesus healed him. Scripture doesn’t tell all of the twists and turns his life took. We might quickly say that his having to beg on the streets was bad…and sad. Dad’s been having problems for three months. If you want to stretch it to its longest possible point, he’s been having problems for nine months, but not for every moment of that time.
We tend to want it now, especially when it involves pain and our loved one, or pain and ourselves. But yesterday, I discussed the possibility that God might mean something different when He says “death” than we do. Similarly, for a being who has lived forever, and will live forever, the years that this man spent blind, or that Abraham waited before Isaac was born, may still be part of “immediate.” We see this in the difference of perspective between children and adults. Ask a kid to wait five minutes, and you’d think the world will end. Ask this adult to wait five minutes and you haven’t given me enough time to get anything done. The Psalmist wrote about our lives being like smoke. Three months, or nine months, or nine years, it’s really not that long.
The other problem is the fact that we are also blind. We don’t see clearly what God is up to. What twists and turns took place in the blind man’s life in order to bring him where he was? What developed in him the faith that would lead him to go wash in a specific pool when Jesus told him to? I’ve been blessed with some clear direction changes in my life. I may not be going where I think I’m going, but I know God is directing me wherever I am going.
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