because grace works with unlimited means and boundless abilities...
His whole life was darkness. That's all he had ever known. Pitch black. He didn't know the colors, couldn't even grasp what color was. He didn't know shapes or sizes. He didn't even know what his own face looked like. He could touch, he could smell, he could hear, but he couldn't see. His eyes were open, but there was nothing. Nothing but darkness. Could he even imagine? Was he able to imagine what a world full of color, of life would look like? Because how could one who had never seen anything even know what to create in the depths of his mind? He had been blind from birth, but he certainly wasn't deaf. His ears made up for what his eyes couldn't see, and he heard every single word that they were saying about him.
"As he went along, he saw a man blind from birth. His disciples asked him, “Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?" (John 9:1-2)
Really, that's the best they could come up with? Here he was, defenseless and vulnerable, and their biggest concern wasn't about him, it was about his blindness. It's not like he could help it. He was born that way. He didn't choose to be blind. He didn't ask for it. And yet they had the nerve to stand in front of him and blame his weakness on his actions. Sin? What sin were they talking about? What could he or his parents have possibly done that was so bad, so treacherous, that he was born without sight? Sure, he wasn't perfect, but who was? And yet he was blind while so many others could see. That didn't seem fair. That didn't seem to add up. But he listened anyway. He didn't make a sound. He stood in front of their ignorant assumptions, defenses down, and this is what he heard:
"Neither this man nor his parents sinned,” said Jesus, “but this happened so that the works of God might be displayed in him." (John 9:3)
He certainly wasn't expecting to hear that. Works of God displayed in him? What was this man talking about? How would God do anything through him? He had spent his whole life being the blind beggar. That's what everyone knew him as. He had resorted himself to asking for money, not for miracles. But he kept listening. Hands held out ready to receive coins, he stood still, uncertain of what he would actually receive. All of the sudden, his senses kicked in. Rather than coins in his hands, mud was on his face. Something strange was happening. Should he run away? Should he try to defend himself? This was a first. He wasn't used to people giving him much time. He wasn't used to personal attention. He was lucky if they noticed him long enough to take pity on him and toss down some coins. But no one had done this before. No one had ever come so close as to touch him and rub mud on his face. But something told him to stay. To keep on listening. And the voice confidently said:
"Go, wash in the Pool of Siloam." (John 9:7)
This was getting stranger by the minute. He wasn't sure if he should feel confused or offended. At this point, he was empty handed. This encounter wasn't like the others. They had given him nothing, wiped spit and mud on his face, and then told him to find his own way down to the pool to wash it off. But something inside of him said go. Something told him to keep on listening. After all, what else did he have to do? And blindly he walked past person after person with mud smeared all over his face. For once in his life, he was actually glad he couldn't see because there was no telling what kind of looks he was getting. But he kept walking in the darkness, wondering how crazy this whole ordeal was, until his feet hit the cold water. He bent down, scooped up a handful of water, and he began to wash his face. He could feel the mud falling into his hands. He continued to wash until all of the mess was gone from his eyes, and as he brought the last handful of water to his face, he saw it. Blue, clear, liquid. It was beautiful. It was light. The darkness was gone, and he realized he could see.
Amazing Grace finds us. Sitting with hands stretched out, begging for help, for healing, for relief from our brokenness, Amazing Grace stops and notices. And we ask for so little, not expecting much, because we don't feel worthy to receive. Yet grace works with unlimited means and boundless abilities. But how could we, such weak, insignificant, fragile people be used in any great way or expect to receive any great thing? We forget that it is our weakness in which His power is perfected, and that through our obedience His promises come to life. It's not really anything we've done. In fact, it's nothing we've done or will ever be able to do. It's simply because Amazing Grace is good. Good to beckon us out of our darkness and into the light. Good to redeem what was broken, restore what was lost, and give life where there is death. Amazing Grace rarely gives us what we ask for, but rather what we need. Unconventionally, unexpected, undeserved.
"His neighbors and those who had formerly seen him begging asked, “Isn’t this the same man who used to sit and beg?” Some claimed that he was. Others said, “No, he only looks like him.” But he himself insisted, “I am the man.” “How then were your eyes opened?” they asked. He replied, “The man they call Jesus made some mud and put it on my eyes. He told me to go to Siloam and wash. So I went and washed, and then I could see.” - John 9:8-11
"As he went along, he saw a man blind from birth. His disciples asked him, “Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?" (John 9:1-2)
Really, that's the best they could come up with? Here he was, defenseless and vulnerable, and their biggest concern wasn't about him, it was about his blindness. It's not like he could help it. He was born that way. He didn't choose to be blind. He didn't ask for it. And yet they had the nerve to stand in front of him and blame his weakness on his actions. Sin? What sin were they talking about? What could he or his parents have possibly done that was so bad, so treacherous, that he was born without sight? Sure, he wasn't perfect, but who was? And yet he was blind while so many others could see. That didn't seem fair. That didn't seem to add up. But he listened anyway. He didn't make a sound. He stood in front of their ignorant assumptions, defenses down, and this is what he heard:
"Neither this man nor his parents sinned,” said Jesus, “but this happened so that the works of God might be displayed in him." (John 9:3)
He certainly wasn't expecting to hear that. Works of God displayed in him? What was this man talking about? How would God do anything through him? He had spent his whole life being the blind beggar. That's what everyone knew him as. He had resorted himself to asking for money, not for miracles. But he kept listening. Hands held out ready to receive coins, he stood still, uncertain of what he would actually receive. All of the sudden, his senses kicked in. Rather than coins in his hands, mud was on his face. Something strange was happening. Should he run away? Should he try to defend himself? This was a first. He wasn't used to people giving him much time. He wasn't used to personal attention. He was lucky if they noticed him long enough to take pity on him and toss down some coins. But no one had done this before. No one had ever come so close as to touch him and rub mud on his face. But something told him to stay. To keep on listening. And the voice confidently said:
"Go, wash in the Pool of Siloam." (John 9:7)
This was getting stranger by the minute. He wasn't sure if he should feel confused or offended. At this point, he was empty handed. This encounter wasn't like the others. They had given him nothing, wiped spit and mud on his face, and then told him to find his own way down to the pool to wash it off. But something inside of him said go. Something told him to keep on listening. After all, what else did he have to do? And blindly he walked past person after person with mud smeared all over his face. For once in his life, he was actually glad he couldn't see because there was no telling what kind of looks he was getting. But he kept walking in the darkness, wondering how crazy this whole ordeal was, until his feet hit the cold water. He bent down, scooped up a handful of water, and he began to wash his face. He could feel the mud falling into his hands. He continued to wash until all of the mess was gone from his eyes, and as he brought the last handful of water to his face, he saw it. Blue, clear, liquid. It was beautiful. It was light. The darkness was gone, and he realized he could see.
Amazing Grace finds us. Sitting with hands stretched out, begging for help, for healing, for relief from our brokenness, Amazing Grace stops and notices. And we ask for so little, not expecting much, because we don't feel worthy to receive. Yet grace works with unlimited means and boundless abilities. But how could we, such weak, insignificant, fragile people be used in any great way or expect to receive any great thing? We forget that it is our weakness in which His power is perfected, and that through our obedience His promises come to life. It's not really anything we've done. In fact, it's nothing we've done or will ever be able to do. It's simply because Amazing Grace is good. Good to beckon us out of our darkness and into the light. Good to redeem what was broken, restore what was lost, and give life where there is death. Amazing Grace rarely gives us what we ask for, but rather what we need. Unconventionally, unexpected, undeserved.
Amazing grace, how sweet the sound.
That save a wretch like me.
I once was lost, but now I am found.
I was blind, but now I see.
"His neighbors and those who had formerly seen him begging asked, “Isn’t this the same man who used to sit and beg?” Some claimed that he was. Others said, “No, he only looks like him.” But he himself insisted, “I am the man.” “How then were your eyes opened?” they asked. He replied, “The man they call Jesus made some mud and put it on my eyes. He told me to go to Siloam and wash. So I went and washed, and then I could see.” - John 9:8-11
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