There are known knowns. There are things we know we know. We also know there are known unknowns. That is to say, we know there are some things we do not know. But there are also unknown unknowns, the ones we don’t know we don’t know. -Donald Rumsfeld
I’m considering the plight of the man who was born blind. John recounts the story in the ninth chapter of his gospel. This man certainly knew that he could not “see,” that he was “blind.” His parents and others had been telling him so ever since he could remember. And he was aware of lacking a capability that people in general clearly had. That’s why he had to sit in a public place, begging.
But he could not have had any concept of what sight is to us who see. First, he had no neural networks for processing the light that fell on him from all directions. These networks develop in infancy as the brain receives signals from the eyes, and for him that wasn’t happening. Their absence distinguishes people who are born blind from those who acquire blindness later in life. Consequently, he had no idea of what it means to see. It was not that he simply couldn’t understand what he saw—it was that he had no acquaintance with light. He didn’t know what he was missing even though he knew he was missing something. We might describe this situation by saying that he had no category for seeing.
Of course, we know that Jesus gave the beggar his sight. In the man’s own words, “The man called Jesus made mud and smeared my eyes and said to me, ‘Go to Siloam and wash.’ So I went and washed and received my sight.” Although the beggar had not asked Jesus to do anything for him, he received an incredible gift.
The work that Jesus accomplished in this man was so profound that it is hard for us to grasp. The operation literally required the rewiring of the man’s brain. This feat remains far beyond the ability of any modern physician. Praise the Lord for grace that does the impossible! But even before performing this miracle, Jesus had informed his disciples of its real purpose: to make visible the works of God. In other words, that they (his followers) and others might see something of the Father.
Jesus lived to reveal the Father. Once, Philip, who was one of his followers, remarked, “Lord, show us the Father, and it is enough for us.” Jesus replied, “Have I been so long with you, and you still do not know me, Philip? Whoever has seen me has seen the Father. How can you say, ‘Show us the Father’? Do you not believe that I am in the Father and the Father is in me?” (John 14:8-10). If Jesus had not put the Father on display for us in his own life, we could not know Him. We had no category, apart from the perfect example of Jesus, for a God such as He is.
In his reply to Philip, Jesus included an insight into his own relationship with the Father. When he said, “I am in the Father and the Father is in me,” he presented to us a mind-altering reality. Jesus, completely human, could be the dwelling place of God the Father. And he, as man, could dwell in God the Father. Everything that Jesus said and did—like giving sight to a man born blind—had its source in that relationship with the Father. Jesus didn’t stop there. “Truly, truly, I say to you, whoever believes in me will also do the works that I do; and greater works than these will he do, because I am going to the Father” (John 14:12). When he spoke of going to the Father, he was referring to his death, resurrection, and ascension. What he meant by “greater works than these is a topic for prayerful consideration. My point right now is, what if Jesus had not told us of the indwelling of divine life? That we could have this hybrid sort of life, and learn to live by it? Who would have thought this possible? Yet another thing that we, apart from Jesus, had no category for.
While being interrogated about how he was able to see, the formerly blind man had witnessed faithfully of his encounter with his healer. His testimony proved his gratitude. Beyond that, he projected a deepening insight into who Jesus was: first “a man called Jesus,” then a prophet, and then “a man from God.”
Jesus sought him out, knowing that the religious leaders had forbidden him to return to the synagogue. “Jesus heard that they had cast him out, and having found him he 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” (John 9:35-38).
Jesus honored this man’s openness by crowning it with a yet deeper revelation. It was a revelation of Jesus himself as Lord. Jesus must have been pleased to see the man’s willingness to take this further step of faith. And he remarked aloud, “For judgement I came into the world, that those who do not see may see, and those who see may become blind” (John 9:39).
There are paths that the Lord wants to lead us along, but that we can’t even see. “And I will lead the blind in a way that they do not know, in paths that they have not known I will guide them” (Isaiah 42:16). It is a walk of faith. It is a walk in which he gives vision to those who know that, without him, they are blind—in which he also judges those who insist that they can see on their own.
He wants to do a profound work of transformation in us. Will we trust and obey Him without demanding that we first understand? It cannot happen any other way. Nobody else can accomplish it. And his purpose is that the works of God might be displayed in us for others to see, to the glory of God.
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