The Light
In John 8:12, Jesus declares that He is the light of the world, but what follows is a hostile conversation inside the Temple between Jesus and the Jews. Jesus tells them He is sent by the Father, that He speaks the truth, that the truth will set them free, and that He is the I AM. The Jews reply by calling Him a sinner born of fornication, a demon, a Samaritan—and they seek to kill Him. They hate the light that Jesus is shining in their faces. Light works in two ways: it can either make you see or blind you. And these men are blinded. Jesus’ light is so blinding to them that they want to turn it off by killing Him. But Jesus hides Himself and leaves the Temple (John 8:59). The light of the world has been rejected, and He takes His light with Him when He goes.
As Jesus is leaving the Temple, His disciples point out a man who was blind from birth. They ask who sinned—this man or his parents? Jesus says neither. This man was born blind so that God may display His works in him (John 9:3). Then Jesus says it again: “I am the light of the world” (John 9:5)—and immediately gets to work, making clay from His own spit and the earth and placing it on the blind man’s eyes. He tells the man to go wash in the Pool of Siloam—which means “Sent,” John tells us. The man goes, does what Jesus says, and comes back seeing. His neighbors are in complete shock. They can hardly believe this is the same man who used to sit and beg. He has to convince them over and over: I am the man. And how did it happen? A man named Jesus touched my eyes with clay and told me to go wash, and now I can see.
So they bring the man to the Pharisees, and the Pharisees do not believe it. Jesus healed on the Sabbath, and in their minds, God does not work on the Sabbath, so Jesus cannot be from God. They interrogate the man. They bring in his parents, who confirm he was born blind but refuse to say more. They haul the man back and press him: “Give glory to God. This Jesus is a sinner” (John 9:24). But the man gives them the only answer he has: “Whether He is a sinner, I do not know; one thing I do know, that though I was blind, now I see” (John 9:25). The Pharisees cannot resolve it, so they do the only thing left—they kick him out. But then Jesus hears that they have cast him out, and He finds the man and asks, “Do you believe in the Son of Man?” The man answers, “Who is He, Lord, that I may believe in Him?” Jesus says, “You have both seen Him, and He is the one who is talking with you.” And the man says, “Lord, I believe.” And he worshiped Him (John 9:35–38).
The blind beggar was exposed to the light of the world, and that light caused him to see. It was seeing that led him to believe in the Son of Man and worship Him. For those of you who have experienced the light of Christ in your life—who once sat in darkness and now can see, whose life has been so changed that the people around you can hardly recognize you as the same person—take heart. The blind man’s story is your story. He did nothing to earn his sight. Jesus came to him, touched him, and gave him eyes to see. And when the world cast him out for his testimony, Jesus found him on the other side. That is what the light of Christ does: it does not abandon what it has healed. If you have seen the light and believed, you are held.
But there is a sobering word here, too. The Jews and the Pharisees were not ignorant people. They were inside the Temple. They had the Scriptures. They had the light of Christ shining directly in their faces. And they were blinded by it—not because the light was defective, but because they despised it. It annoyed them. It was inconvenient. It made demands they did not want to meet. You know the feeling. You are driving on a sunny day, and the sun is always in your face, no matter which direction you turn, and you get so frustrated that you wish it would stop shining. That is what the light of Christ can feel like to a heart that does not want to be changed. Jesus Himself says it plainly: “For judgment I came into this world, so that those who do not see may see, and that those who see may become blind” (John 9:39). Proximity to the light is not the same as receiving it. Sitting in the Temple is not the same as being transformed.
So the question this text puts before each of us is direct: What is Jesus’ light doing in your life? Does it blind you, or does it cause you to see and respond with faith and worship? Has the light of Jesus caused you to trust in Him and live differently—differently enough that people notice? I think the reason the old hymn Amazing Grace is so special to so many, even across generations, is that it is the anthem of those who were once blind but now can see. It reaches the depths of our hearts, because if it were not for the amazing grace of Jesus’ light, we would not have received our sight, and we would have continued to be lost and without any hope in the world. Jesus says, “I am the light of the world!” We say, “Praise be to God!”
Peace be with you,
Pastor Bruce
