Homily 57 — John 9, verses 6 to 16

“When Jesus had spoken this, he spat on the ground and made clay of the saliva, and he anointed the blind man’s eyes with the clay, and said, ‘Go, wash in the pool of Siloam.’” [a]

Those who mean to gain any benefit from what they read must not pass over even the smallest part of the words. That is why we are told to “search” the Scriptures: most of the words, though they look easy at first sight, turn out to hold a great deal of hidden meaning in their depths. Look at the present passage, for example. “Having said these words,” the Scripture says, “he spat on the ground.” What words? That “the glory of God should be made manifest,” and, “I must work the works of him who sent me.” The evangelist did not tell us his words and then add that “he spat” without a reason. He did it to show that Christ confirmed his words by deeds.

And why did he not use water instead of saliva to make the clay? He was about to send the man to Siloam. So that nothing would be credited to the spring, and so that you would learn that it was the power coming from his mouth that both formed the man’s eyes and opened them, he “spat on the ground.” At least, that is what the evangelist indicated when he said, “and made clay of the saliva.” Then, so that the successful outcome would not seem to come from the earth, he told him to wash.

But why did he not do this at once, instead of sending him to Siloam? So that you might learn the blind man’s faith, and so that the stubbornness of the Jews might be silenced. It was likely that they would all see him as he went off with the clay spread over his eyes. The strangeness of the thing would draw everyone’s attention, both those who knew him and those who did not, and they would watch him closely. And since it is not easy to recognize a blind man who has received his sight, Christ first makes many people witnesses by the length of the road, and close observers by the strangeness of the sight, so that, having paid closer attention, they could no longer say, “It is he; it is not he.”

Moreover, by sending him to Siloam, he wants to prove that he is no stranger to the law and the old covenant. Nor was there any fear afterward that Siloam would get the glory, since many who had often washed their eyes there had gained no such benefit; there too it was the power of Christ that did everything. That is why the evangelist adds the meaning of the name for us. Having said, “in Siloam,” he adds, “which means Sent,” so that you may learn that there too it was Christ who healed him. As Paul says, “They drank from that spiritual Rock that followed them, and that Rock was Christ” (First Corinthians 10, verse 4). Just as Christ was the spiritual Rock, so he was also the spiritual Siloam. To me, too, the sudden inflow of the water seems to hint at a mystery beyond words. What is it? The unexpectedness of his appearing, beyond all hope.

But notice the blind man’s mind, obedient in everything. He did not say, “If it is really the clay or the saliva that gives me eyes, what need is there of Siloam? Or if Siloam is needed, what need is there of the clay? Why did he anoint me? Why tell me to wash?” He entertained no such thoughts. He held himself ready for one thing only: to obey in everything the one who gave the command. Nothing that was done made him stumble.

If anyone asks, “How, then, did he get his sight, when he had removed the clay?” he will hear no other answer from us than that we do not know how. And what wonder is it if we do not know, when not even the evangelist knew, nor the very man who was healed? He knew what had been done, but how it was done he could not grasp. So when he was asked, he said, “He put clay on my eyes, and I washed, and I see.” But how this happened he cannot tell them, though they ask him ten thousand times.

Verses 8 and 9: “So the neighbors, and those who had seen him before, that he was a beggar, said, ‘Is this not the man who sat and begged?’ Some said, ‘This is he.’”

The strangeness of what had happened led them even to disbelief, though so much had been arranged precisely so that they would not disbelieve. They said, “Is this not the man who sat and begged?” Oh, the love of God for humankind! How far down he came, when in his great kindness he healed even beggars, and so silenced the Jews! For he did not reserve his care for the famous, the distinguished and the rulers, but counted people of no account worthy of the same providence. For he came for the salvation of all.

What happened with the paralyzed man happened with this man too: neither of them knew who it was that had healed him. This came about because Christ withdrew. Whenever Jesus healed, he withdrew, so that every suspicion might be removed from the miracles. For how could people who did not know who he was flatter him, or join in staging what had been done? Nor was this man one of those who went about from place to place; he was one of those who sat at the doors of the temple. Now, when everyone was in doubt about him, what does he say? “I am he.”

He was not ashamed of his former blindness. He did not fear the anger of the people. He did not shrink from showing himself, so that he might proclaim his benefactor.

Verses 10 and 11: “They said to him, ‘How were your eyes opened?’ He answered and said, ‘A man called Jesus.’”

What are you saying? Does “a man” do such things? As yet he knew nothing great about him. “A man called Jesus made clay, and anointed my eyes.”

See how truthful he is. He does not say what Christ made it from, for he does not speak of what he does not know. He did not see him spit on the ground; but that he spread it on, he knew by feeling and touch. “And he said to me, ‘Go, wash in the pool of Siloam.’” This too his hearing bore witness to. But how did he recognize his voice? From his conversation with the disciples. And though he says all this, and has received the witness of the deed itself, he cannot tell how the cure was done. Now if faith is needed in things we feel and handle, how much more in the case of things unseen! [e]

Verse 12: “They said to him, ‘Where is he?’ He said, ‘I do not know.’” They said, “Where is he?” because they already had murder in mind against him. But notice Christ’s modesty: he did not stay with those he had healed, because he did not want to reap glory, or draw a crowd, or make a show of himself. Notice too how truthfully the blind man gives all his answers.

The Jews wanted to find Christ so as to bring him before the priests. But when they did not find him, they brought the blind man to the Pharisees, as to men who would question him more severely. That is why the evangelist remarks that it was “the Sabbath” (verse 14): to point out their wicked thoughts and the reason they were looking for him, as if, indeed, they had found a handle, and could run down the miracle by means of what looked like a breach of the law. This is clear from the fact that the moment they saw him they said nothing but, “How did he open your eyes?” Notice also the way they put it. They do not say, “How did you receive your sight?” but, “How did he open your eyes?” — so giving him an opening to slander Jesus for having done work. But he answers them briefly, as men who had already heard. Without mentioning his name, or that “he said to me, ‘Go, wash,’” he says at once (verse 15), “He put clay on my eyes, and I washed, and I see.”

For the slander had by now grown great, and the Jews had been saying, “Look what work Jesus does on the Sabbath day: he anoints with clay!” But notice, please, how the blind man is not shaken. When he was questioned before the others and spoke without danger, it was no great thing to tell the truth. The wonder is that now, when he is placed in a situation of greater fear, he neither denies nor contradicts what he said before. What, then, did the Pharisees do — or rather, what did the others do as well? They had brought him expecting that he would deny it. But the opposite happened to them, the very thing they did not want: they learned the facts more exactly. This is what they have to endure everywhere in the case of the miracles, but we will show this point more clearly in what follows. What did the Pharisees say?

Verse 16: Some said — not all, but the more presumptuous — “This man is not from God, because he does not keep the Sabbath day.” Others said, “How can a man who is a sinner do such miracles?”

Do you see that they were being led upward by the miracles? Listen to what they say now — the very men who before this had sent men to bring him in. And if not all of them did so (for, being rulers, they fell into unbelief through empty glory), still the greater number even of the rulers believed in him, but did not confess him. The common people were easily overlooked, since they counted for little in their synagogue. But the rulers, being more conspicuous, found it harder to speak out boldly: some were held back by love of power, others by cowardice and fear of the many. That is why he said, “How can you believe, when you receive honor from people?” (John 5, verse 44).

And these men, who were seeking to kill him unjustly, said that they themselves were from God, but that he who healed the blind could not be from God, because he did not keep the Sabbath. The others objected that a sinner could not do such miracles. The first group, maliciously keeping quiet about what had taken place, brought forward the apparent breach of the law. For they did not say, “He heals on the Sabbath day,” but, “He does not keep the Sabbath.” The others, on their side, answered weakly. When they ought to have shown that the Sabbath had not been broken, they relied only on the miracles — and naturally so, since they still thought he was a man. Had that not been the case, they could also have argued in his defense that he was Lord of the Sabbath, which he himself had made. But they did not yet hold that opinion. In any case, none of them dared to say what he wished openly, as a plain statement, but only as a doubt — some because they lacked freedom to speak, others through love of power.

“So there was a division among them.” This division first began among the people, then later among the rulers too. Some said, “He is a good man”; others, “No, he is leading the people astray” (John 7, verse 12). Do you see that the rulers had less understanding than the many, since they were divided later than the people were? And after they were divided, they showed no noble spirit when they saw the Pharisees pressing on them. For if they had separated from them completely, they would soon have known the truth.

It is possible, you see, to do well by separating. That is why he himself said, “I have not come to bring peace on earth, but a sword” (Matthew 10, verse 34). For there is an evil harmony, and there is a good disagreement. So those who built the tower (Genesis 11, verse 4) agreed together to their own harm, and these same men were then separated — unwillingly, yet for their good. So too Korah and his company agreed together for evil, and that is why they were separated for good; and Judas agreed with the Jews for evil. So division can be good, and agreement can be evil. That is why the Scripture says, “If your eye causes you to stumble, strike it out; if your foot, cut it off” (Matthew 5, verse 29, and 18, verse 8). Now if we must separate ourselves from a limb badly joined to us, must we not much more separate from friends joined to us for evil? So agreement is not always good, just as division is not always evil.

I say these things so that we may shun wicked people and follow the good. When one of our limbs is rotten and past curing, we cut it off, for fear that the rest of the body will catch the same disease. We do it, not because we have no care for that part, but because we want to save the rest. If we do this with our limbs, how much more must we do it with those who join with us for evil? If we can set them right without being harmed ourselves, we ought to use every means to do so. But if they stay beyond correction and may harm us, we must cut them off and cast them away. That way they will often be the gainers rather than the losers. That is why Paul urged, “You shall put away the wicked person from among yourselves,” and, “so that he who has done this deed may be removed from among you” (First Corinthians 5, verses 13 and 2). [i]

A dreadful thing, truly dreadful, is the company of wicked people. An epidemic does not seize, nor the itch infect, those who come into contact with the sick as quickly as the wickedness of evil people does. For “bad company corrupts good character” (First Corinthians 15, verse 33). And again the prophet says, “Come out from among them, and be separate” (Isaiah 52, verse 11). So let no one have a wicked man for a friend. For when we have bad sons, we publicly disown them, without regard for nature or its laws, or the hold it has on us. How much more ought we to flee from our companions and acquaintances when they are wicked! For even if we suffer no harm from them, we still will not be able to escape a bad name. Strangers do not look into our lives; they judge us by our companions.

This advice I give to young men and young unmarried women. “Take thought for what is honorable,” the Scripture says, “not only in the sight of the Lord, but also in the sight of all people” (Romans 12, verse 17). So let us use every means to keep our neighbor from stumbling. For a life, however upright, that causes others to stumble has lost everything. But how is it possible for an upright life to cause stumbling? When the company of people who are not upright gives it a bad name. For when we trust in ourselves and keep company with bad people, even if we are not harmed, we cause others to stumble.

I say these things to men and women and young unmarried women, leaving it to their own consciences to see exactly how many evils come from this source. Perhaps neither I nor any of the more mature suspects any wrong. But the simpler brother is harmed because of your maturity, and you ought to take care for his weakness too. And even if he suffers no harm, the Greek is harmed. Now Paul tells us to give no cause for stumbling, “either to Jews or to Greeks, or to the church of God” (First Corinthians 10, verse 32). (I think no evil of the virgin, for I love virginity, and “love thinks no evil” (First Corinthians 13, verse 5). I greatly admire that way of life, and I cannot have so much as an unseemly thought about it.) But how will we persuade those outside? For we must take thought for them too.

So let us order our own affairs in such a way that none of the unbelievers can find even a fair ground for accusing us. For just as those who display an upright life glorify God, so those who do the opposite cause him to be blasphemed. May there be no such people among us. May our works shine so that our Father in heaven is glorified, and that we may enjoy the honor that comes from him. May we all attain it, through the grace and love for humankind of our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom and with whom be glory to the Father, together with the Holy Spirit, forever and ever. Amen.