The Story of Who You Are: John 9:1-7 - Transfiguration Sunday

I’ve never been much of a sports fan, but one thing I appreciate about the Olympics is the fact that behind every athlete there is a story: stories of inspiration, passion, and perseverance, but also stories of hardship, heartbreak, and defeat. For as much attention is given to the medalists, most Olympic athletes go home without medals. A few are fortunate to go home with their lives. Case in point: the downhill skier Lindsey Vonn, who crashed just a few seconds into her run, who had to be evacuated by helicopter to the hospital, where she underwent surgery for a fractured leg.

Still, you’re not a loser if you don’t win a medal.

The word ‘loser’ has to be one of the harshest in the English language. By saying it, you’re telling that person the story of who they are: that they are nobody; that they are worthless. But the person calling you a loser is trying to tell the story of who they are, that they are winners, because they have the power to call you a loser and make you believe it. 

Photo by James Kovin on Unsplash

That’s what we see happening in today’s Gospel. Jesus sees a man who’s been blind from birth. His disciples ask him, “Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?”

Most would’ve said his blindness was punishment for sins committed either by his parents, grandparents, or even great grandparents. Or he was being punished for sins committed in the womb. (Perhaps kicking too much?) To back this up, they would’ve quoted Exodus 20:5: “for I the Lord your God am a jealous God, punishing children for the iniquity of parents to the third and the fourth generation of those who reject me.” In other words, he was meant to suffer. He was the bearer of divine punishment.

But Jesus said, “Neither this man nor his parents sinned; he was born blind so that God’s works might be revealed in him.” Jesus then spat the dirt, kneaded it into mud, put it on the man’s eyes, and told him to go and wash in the Pool of Siloam. He did and he came back able to see.

But once again, the religious leaders are furious. By making mud with his spit, Jesus desecrated the Sabbath. Jesus didn’t need to make mud to heal the man. Rather, this was a brazen gesture of defiance against those who exercised power to devalue him while asserting their superiority.

They were the holiest of men, because they were of good genetic and ancestral stock. They were well-educated, they knew the Scriptures inside and out, they followed the Law of Moses and the traditions of the elders to a T. The fact that they enjoyed health and wealth only furthered their claim to be in God’s favor. Therefore, they had the moral right to debase and devalue those who were weaker or less fortunate.

The same thing happens in our world today. There are numerous powerful voices who exercise tremendous spiritual authority within American Christianity. They see their enjoyment of health, wealth, and influence as signs of God’s favor. And they use their power to tell the story of who you are. If you suffer, it’s because you’ve done something wrong. If you don’t heal, it’s because you don’t have enough faith. If you do not take their every word as Gospel, then you’re not a real Christian.

The easiest way to build yourself up is by tearing someone else down. They are beneath you because they don’t look like you. They don’t think or vote like you. They don’t come from where you come from. They haven’t accomplished what you’ve accomplished. They can’t buy what you can easily afford.

That’s a big part of the problem: we are a society that covets luxury goods, VIP seating, and opulent lifestyles so that we can tell the world a story, that we’re smart, successful, hard-working, and just plain better than everyone else.

There is no power we covet more than the power to exclude.

But Jesus sees through it all, whether it is the prejudices and lies that tear people down, or the carefully constructed and gold-trimmed facades people put up to proclaim their own greatness.

What a miracle it was for a man who was told he was worthless to be able to see God’s love for him in the face of Jesus Christ. It’s too bad that he saw the ugliness of the self-proclaimed “holy men” who wanted him to suffer. Still, Jesus exercised his divine authority to tell the blind man who he was. His purpose in life wasn’t to bear punishment; his purpose in life was to glorify God. And that is what he will do for the rest of his life.

Everywhere, there are people going through hell on earth, whose pain, poverty, and affliction go beyond our worst nightmares. That doesn’t mean they’re meant to suffer. In the end, we tell the story of who we are in how we treat those who are poor, rejected, and helpless, like the blind man.

But there’s a better story Jesus is ready to tell. Your sins are forgiven. Your guilt and shame over past deeds is washed in his blood. There is nothing you need to prove to him, to yourself, or to the world. In success or failure, in wealth or poverty, in sickness or health, in good times or bad, your life’s purpose is to tell the story of Jesus. And every day, he will open your eyes that you may see him, in all his glory, and live for the praise of his name.

This means, that whatever struggle or hardship weighs you down, whatever pains you endure without relief, God will take it and use it to good, and tell you the story of who he is. 

John 9:1-7 (NRSVue)

As [Jesus] walked along, he saw a man blind from birth. ² His disciples asked him, “Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?” ³ Jesus answered, “Neither this man nor his parents sinned; he was born blind so that God’s works might be revealed in him. ⁴ We must work the works of him who sent me while it is day; night is coming, when no one can work. ⁵ As long as I am in the world, I am the light of the world.” ⁶ When he had said this, he spat on the ground and made mud with the saliva and spread the mud on the man’s eyes, ⁷ saying to him, “Go, wash in the pool of Siloam” (which means Sent). Then he went and washed and came back able to see.