Hey, if you're tuning in right now, maybe Sunday's
sunlight streaming through the window, maybe
midnight static coming on your radio. I want
to welcome you to the Seminar Seminarian where
Grace doesn't wear a necktie in every story.
Has a little bit of dirt under its nails. I've
got a question, though, that will rattle your
comfort. What if the very thing you thought disqualified
you is the very thing Jesus wants to use to wake
up the world? See, today we're talking about
mud. Not the tidy, sterilized kind, but the spit
and dust kind. The kind that ruins your shoes
and just might save your soul. What if you let
Jesus get mud on your face right in front of
God and everybody? Would you do it? Or are you
still trying to keep your Sunday best spotless,
for God is not afraid to kneel in the dirt? This
episode, Mud and Mercy, How Jesus Turns Our Need
for Answers into the Gift of Sight, isn't about
easy answers or polished religion. It's about
getting honest, getting healed, and maybe, just
maybe, finding sight in the last place you look.
If something in this old gospel rattles your
cage or stirs your memory, don't keep it to yourself.
Share it, like it, subscribe, drop a comment.
Pass it on to a friend who needs a little dirt
and a lot of grace. Let's walk this story together.
I'll see you on the other side. No, I think it's
great. Okay, so I had just mentioned we've been
doing parables on Wednesday nights and we have
been doing the signs on Sunday. What am I talking
about? Talking about... we've been talking about.
In the book of John, there are several signs
John points to about Jesus, things that Jesus
does that to John are proof that he would like
to show you about Jesus being the Messiah. So
within the gospel account, according to John,
there is this little portion within the early
part of the book. that theologians call the book
of signs. And these stories kind of go one after
the other. And unintentionally, I've just started
doing them one after the other. So we first started
talking about Cana. And we learned about grace
to come to us as unexpected and overabundant
joy. We learned about the healing of the invalid
at the sheep gate. If you guys remember that.
And how grace sometimes can go to the most unexpected
places. And break religious rules. And we're
going to find that same kind of situation again
here today. We're going to look at this story
about Jesus healing the blind man with mud. And
I also want to point out that if... If anyone
ever asks you, does your preacher actually down
there preach any Bible? Well, I want you to know
your preacher does. We're going to go through
about 40 verses of text today. We're going to
break it up. But the point being, this whole
story has to be told because this thing is a
banger from beginning to end. So we don't want
to cut any part of this out. Every bit of this
teaches us something. So we're going to cut it
into little slices, but we're going to hear this
whole story. So we're going to begin right at
the beginning. Attune your ears, my dear friends.
Open the door of your heart. The Spirit still
speaks when the word is read aloud. This is the
gospel, the account of John, chapter 9, verses
1 through 13. As he passed by, he saw a man blind
from birth, and the disciples asked him, Rabbi,
Who sinned, this man or his parents, that he
was born blind? Jesus answered, It was not that
this man sinned or his parents, but that the
works of God might be displayed in him. We must
work the works of him who sent me while it is
day. Night is coming when no one can work. As
long as I am in the world, I am the light of
the world. Having said these things, he spit
on the ground and made mud with the saliva. Then
he anointed the man's eyes with mud and said,
Go wash in the pool of Siloam. It means scent.
So he went and washed and came back seeing. The
neighbors and those who had seen him before as
a beggar were saying, Is this not the man who
used to sit and beg? Some said, It is he. Others
said, No, but he's like him. He kept saying,
I am the man. It's me. So they said to him, Then
how are your eyes opened? He answered, the man
called Jesus made mud and anointed my eyes and
said to me, go to Siloam and wash. So I went
and washed and received my sight. They said to
him, where is he? He said, I do not know. They
brought to the Pharisees the man who had already
been formerly been blind and their friends. We
will pause the reading, but the story is still
humming in the dust and in your bones. Let the
word find a place to rest in you while we walk
further. This is something preachers never, ever
say from the pulpit in a sermon. But let's let
our minds wander. You're walking the ancient
stones of Jerusalem. The city humming with dust,
rumor, and memory. Every street is thick with
stories, every shadow holding a prayer someone
gave up on years ago. You try to keep pace with
Jesus, this rabbi who moves with purpose, but
never rushes past a hurting soul. He stops, not
for the strong, not for the pious. but for the
one the city has learned to step around. A man
born blind, sitting in the dust, as ordinary
and as overlooked as the stones of the wall themselves.
It's the disciples who voice what everybody is
thinking. Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his
parents? that he'd be born blind. That question,
blame hunting, trying to make suffering manageable,
lives in our bones. Because if you can explain
pain, maybe you can keep it from your own door.
But Jesus refuses the ledger. It was not that
this man sinned or his parents, but that the
works of God might be displayed in him. No punishment,
just possibility. Jesus kneels, he spits in the
dirt, makes mud, kneads it into the eyes of a
man who's never seen a sunrise, never read a
face and said, go. Wash in the pool of Siloam.
No spectacle. Just mud and mercy. You watch the
man stumble through the crowd, mud drying on
his cheeks. Nobody offers to guide him. Sometimes
grace comes without witnesses. And then he's
back, blinking, laughing, seeing, seeing everything
for the first time. And the neighborhood doesn't
know what to do. Some say it's him. Others, it
can't be. He insists, yes, it's me. And they
press him. Well, how did it happen? And he tells
the truth. Very simple. Jesus, mud, wash. Now
I see. They want a map, a formula, a reason.
He just has this story. And that story is about
to unsettle every certainty in the room. So they
haul him to the Pharisees. You'd think a miracle
would quiet the noise, but instead it stirs it
up. The city is buzzing. Blame is in the air.
And what should have been a quiet healing is
now a storm gathering over the dust. Once more,
tune your ears and steady your hearts. The dust
is swirling. The spirit is near. We return to
the word. John 9, 14 through 27. Now it was the
Sabbath day when Jesus made the mud and opened
his eyes. So the Pharisees again asked him how
he had received his sight. And he said to them,
he put mud on my eyes and I washed and I see.
Some of the Pharisees say this man is not from
God, for he does not keep the Sabbath. But others
said, how could a man who is a sinner do such
things? And there was a division among them.
So they said again to the blind man, what do
you say about him since he has opened your eyes?
He said, he is a prophet. The Jews did not believe
that he had been blind and had received his sight
until they called the parents of the man who
had received his sight and asked them, is this
your son? Who you say was born blind? How then
does he now see? Imagine. His parents answered,
we know that this is our son and that he was
born blind. But how he now sees, we do not know.
Nor do we know who opened his eyes. Ask him,
he's of age. He will speak for himself. Parenthetically,
John gives us a little piece of inside baseball
here. That's why it looks like this in Scripture.
His parents said these things because they feared
the Jews. For the Jews had already agreed that
if anyone should confess that Jesus is the Christ,
he was to be put out of the synagogue. Therefore,
his parents said, he's of age, ask him. So for
the second time they called the man who had been
born blind and said to him, Give glory to God.
We know that this man is a sinner. He answered,
Whether he is a sinner or not, I do not know.
Only one thing I do know, that though I was blind,
now I see. They said to him, What did he do to
you? How did he open your eyes? He answered them,
I have told you already, and you would not listen.
Why do you want to hear it again? Do you also
want to become his disciples? Thus ends this
part of the reading. May the questions linger.
May the truth trouble the waters. For the story
is not done yet. Now you're back in the crowd,
shoulder to shoulder, with anxiety and confusion.
What started out as a mercy has become a courtroom
drama. You feel the heat rising. The healed man
blinking in the light is brought before the men
who run the show. The Sabbath law hangs in the
air as heavy as the dust. You know what's at
stake. Mud on the wrong day can get you stoned
to death, not celebrated. The Pharisees, keepers
of certainty, guardians of the gate, lean in.
How did you receive your sight? He put mud on
my eyes, I washed, I see. Simple, but not safe.
You hear the schism in the room. Some mutter,
not from God, broke the Sabbath. Others quietly,
but how could a sinner do this? No one says what
they're really thinking. If this is true, the
world just got bigger and the old lines just
got blurry. They press him for theology. He's
just got testimony. He's a prophet. It's the
best word he's got. And you could see him standing
up, straighter and straighter. The more honest
he gets, the more dangerous it becomes. They
summon the parents. You watch their faces lined,
tired, afraid. Is this your son? Was he really
born blind? How does he see? And they hedge,
terrified. don't make us choose between our child
and our community. So, back to the healed man.
The circle is closing. Give glory to God. We
know this man is a sinner. He shrugs off their
categories. Whether he's a sinner, I don't know.
The only thing I know is I was blind and I see.
And that line continues to shake the whole room
every single time he says it. You feel it because
that testimony is much more powerful than an
argument. But they're not finished. What did
he do to you? How did he open your eyes? You
see his patience. beginning to wear thin. I've
told you already, you wouldn't listen. Why do
you want to hear it again? Do you also want to
become his disciples? And you could feel the
shift there. I saw some of you smile. What started
out as fear has now become a boldness, even humor.
He's no longer in the shadows. He's standing
right in the center of the storm and you're right
there with him and you realize grace always stirs
things up before it settles anything down. And
sometimes the price of seeing is being seen and
being pushed out. You watch as tension reaches
a breaking point. The healed man is cast out,
but he walks out taller than he came in. Sometimes
getting thrown out is what it takes to really
belong. One last time, dear friends, attune your
ears, all ye with weary ears. Let the spirit
blow through the static and the silence. This
is the closing of the story. John chapter...
9, verses 28 through 41. And they reviled him,
saying, You are his disciple. But we are disciples
of Moses. We know that God has spoken to Moses,
but as for this man, we do not know where he
comes from. The man answered, Why, this is an
amazing thing. You do not know where he comes
from, yet he's the one that opened my eyes. We
know that God does not listen to sinners, but
if anyone is a worshiper of God and he does his
will, God listens to him. Never since the world
began has it been heard that anyone opened the
eyes of a man born blind. If this man were not
from God, he could do nothing. They answered
him. You were born in utter sin, and would you
teach us? And they cast him out. Jesus had heard
that they had cast him out, and having found
him, said, Do you believe in the Son of Man?
He answered, And who is he, sir, that I may believe
in him? Jesus said to him, You have seen him,
and it is he who is speaking to you. He said,
Lord, I believe. And he worshipped him. Jesus
said, For judgment I came into this world that
those who do not see may see, and those who see
may become blind. Some of the Pharisees near
him heard these things and said to him, Are we
also blind? Jesus said to them, If you were blind,
you would have no guilt. But now that you say
we see, your guilt remains. Thus ends the reading
of the word, but the story is never over for
those willing to see. Let this word haunt you,
heal you, and lead you back home. You stand at
the edge of the crowd, dust swirling around your
sandals, the air full of accusation and revelation.
The Pharisees, red -faced and rigid, snap at
the man, you're his disciple. We are disciples
of Moses. We know God spoke to Moses, but this
man, we don't know where he comes from. And the
healed man who started this day in utter darkness
now stands in the light of his own courage. That's
remarkable. You don't know where he comes from,
yet he's the one who opened my eyes since the
world has begun, the former blind man says. Nobody
has done that. If this man weren't from God,
could he do something like that? Of course he
couldn't. You guys would have to agree with that.
And you don't know where this man came from?
You can feel the tables turning. The ones with
all of the answers are now exposed as the blind.
And the one with only a testimony stands in the
light. And they cast him out. Not just out of
the room, out of belonging. But the story doesn't
end there. Grace comes looking for him. Jesus
finds him on the edge where the cast outs gather.
Do you believe in the Son of Man? Who is he?
You've seen him. He's speaking to you. And in
that moment, A man who'd never seen before looks
his Savior in the eyes and says, I believe. And
you standing on the edge, heart pounding, realize
the greatest blindness is thinking you know everything.
And the truest sign comes to those who trust
Jesus to meet them, sometimes in the mud. So,
what do you see now that this story's been told?
Are you still hunting for someone to blame? Or
are you willing to let grace get a little mud
in your eyes? Maybe the miracle isn't in seeing
clearly, but being seen, loved, named, sent out,
found again. Sometimes the clearest vision is
born out of dirt, out of trouble, out of mercy
you never saw coming. Maybe you leave here willing
to walk through the dust, to let Jesus put mud
on your eyes and to testify, come what may. I
was blind, but now I see. Amen? Amen. So now
the dust's beginning to settle and the question
still hangs in the air like the scent of rain
and red earth. What do you see now that the story's
been told? Are you willing to let grace make
a mess of your answers? Or will you hold tight
to your certainty and miss the miracle? There's
a reckoning in the gospel of mud and mercy. Sometimes
it's not your spotless record, but your open
wounds that God chooses for his canvas. A man
born blind didn't ask for the dirt, didn't argue
for a miracle, he just received it. And when
the world wanted answers, all he had was a story.
I was blind, but now I see. It's not just ancient
history, it's your invitation. Maybe you've spent
years dodging the mess, hiding your need, or
blaming yourself for things you couldn't fix,
but here's the hope and the sting. Jesus meets
you right in the in -between, gets his hands
dirty and says, let me show you something new.
If this story spoke to your soul, if it unsettled,
comforted, called you out, don't walk away in
silence. Share it with someone walking down their
own dusty road. Subscribe, leave a comment, join
the porch front conversation wherever you listen.
And as you go, may the mud and the mercy of Jesus
open your eyes, trouble your certainties, bring
you home blinking and new to the grace that waits
the edge of every question. Amen. Ruth chapter
6. Therefore, leading the principles of the doctrine
of Christ, let us go on.