God Who Comes with Spit and Mud
Lent 4
John 9
March 2, 2008
One can't help but wonder how this man and his parents felt about being the object of a theological dispute. Here is a man who has been blind from birth. And what was the response of Jesus' disciples? They launch into a theoretical discussion with Jesus: "Who sinned first this man or his parents that he was born blind?"
Has it ever happened to you? You get sick – a cold, the flu, something more serious and go to work or school and people tell you that you should have taken better care of yourself or give you a list of things that you should have done.
When you could have used a little bit of sympathy you get debate on how better to take care of yourself. If I felt that way about a theoretical debate over a cold of flu, think how this poor man born blind felt about the disciples' theological discussion! You're blind? Well now, let's get out our Bibles and see if we can find good material on the issue of the moral origins of blindness.
I thought of this poor man and the response of the disciples a few years ago when that terrible Tsunami struck in the Indian Ocean the day after Christmas. In just a few horrible moments whole villages were engulfed by killer waves, swept out to sea in horrible death and destruction.
What do people of faith say in the face of the terrible Tsunami? What are we to say? Usually we begin to ask the question of “why?” How could a good God allow something like this to happen?"
It's an old question that asks the question, “If God is all powerful and good, how could this all powerful God allow bad things to happen to good people?” Either God must not be all powerful or God must not be all good, if there are terribly unjust events that happen to people in this world. How could it be allowed to happen?
Now there is lots of undeserved suffering in the world that comes from simply being a human and living in this world and not some other world. Suffering doesn't come as news to the church. We are up to our elbows in suffering just about every day of the week. In this life there is a huge amount of undeserved, unrelieved, and unrelievable suffering and that's life. Life is suffering and part of the good news is that Christ has made that suffering the week-in week-out business of the church.
You know after Katrina hit the gulf coast, help was slow in coming in. While people were digging out the first to respond in many hard-hit areas was the church. They didn’t ask for permission they just went in and started helping people surrounded by mud, muck, and mire. United Methodist Committee on relief was one of those Christian agencies who showed up first. You won't get out of here today without having the opportunity to give money to help with the suffering of people that you don't even know and might not feel any responsibility for, except that Jesus has made their suffering your suffering.
We don’t always understand suffering but we do know something vital from today’s scripture. When questioned about this man's pain and suffering by his disciples, Jesus doesn't really answer their question, but he isn't silent either. He responds that this is a good opportunity, not for theological debate, but rather, "So that God's works might be revealed in him." And with that, he spits on the ground, makes a paste of the dust and saliva, and heals the man. With that, Jesus' critics get into the act and there is a huge argument, with the theological speculation continuing.
But Jesus does not engage in theological speculation. He is there with the man, touches the man, heals him, and thus reveals the peculiar glory of God. There is something real and powerful about the God who comes to us with spit and mud. There’s something about someone who cares enough to get their hands dirty. After all, it’s one thing to talk about it, but it’s another to do it. Jesus doesn’t just come to teach and manage from a distance. No, he wades into suffering and shines.
When did that Tsunami hit? The day after Christmas, the very first day after the church's Feast of the Incarnation when we celebrate that our God did not remain aloof from us, indescribable and utterly incomprehensible. Our God became flesh and came among us. The story of this healed blind man comes in the same Gospel that begins, "In the beginning was the Word . . . and the Word was made flesh and moved in with us . . . and we beheld his glory." The great, grand glory of this God become flesh with us is not that he is in complete control of everything and not that he has an explanation for absolutely everything but rather that he is with us. Furthermore, God doesn't just say, "I'm all powerful and all in control, just accept your lot."
God reaches out to us and touches us. Our God is not omnipotent, omniscient, or all those other attributes that theologians sometimes attribute to God. Our God is, says the Incarnation, omnipresent - "with us." In just a few weeks, as we observe Good Friday, we will see the lengths that this God is willing to go to be with us.
Our God enters the cosmos not so much to explain or to disclose but to make war on evil, to show forth the great glory of God in our salvation. Salvation is better even than a theologically satisfying explanation.
There was a woman who had a visit from her pastor. She had fought cancer and though she received many prayers and went through all the treatments that medicine could give she knew that she was losing the battle.
"I've fought this with every fiber of my being," she said. "Now, I'm not giving up, I'm giving the battle over to Jesus. I've fought this as hard as I know how and now it's his problem. I'm confident that Jesus will finally triumph even if I don't."
That seemed to me a very faithful response to her own personal Tsunami - God with us. Not passively sitting by or offering us a few cold-hearted theories. He is with us, actively reaching toward us, and actively engaging our "enemy," and oh, how he shines.
