Theophylact of Ohrid

The Lord leaves the temple in order to dampen the anger of the Jews a little, and turns to the healing of the blind man. By this miracle He attempts to soften their stubborn disbelief, though they derived no benefit from it; at the same time, He shows them that He did not speak idly or boastfully when He said, Before Abraham was, I am (Jn. 8:58). Behold this miracle, the like of which has never been seen: others have restored the sight of blind men, but never of a man born blind. It is clear that Christ performed this miracle as God Who is before Abraham. To prove this to the Jews, He intentionally approached the blind man, and not vice-versa. When they see the Lord looking intently at the blind man, the disciples ask, Who did sin, this man, or his parents, that he was born blind? This question appears to be illogical. How could the man have sinned before he was born? The apostles, of course, did not accept the foolish notion that the soul commits sin in another world, before the body is formed, and is punished by being joined to the body. Being fishermen, they would never have heard of this teaching of the Greek philosophers. Their question, then, might appear foolish, but not to one who is attentive. The apostles heard Christ tell the paralytic, Behold, thou art made whole: sin no more, lest a worse thing come unto thee (Jn. 5:14). Now they see the blind man and wonder, “The paralytic was punished because of his sins; but what do You say about this man? How could he have been punished for his sins? He was blind from birth. Did his parents sin? That also cannot be, for a child is not punished for his father’s sins.”

Thus their question was an expression of perplexity, which the Lord dispels by explaining, “Neither hath this man sinned, (how could he before he was born?) nor his parents.” Christ does not say simply, “His parents did not sin,” implying that they were without fault; He adds, that he was born blind. His parents did sin, but that was not the cause of his blindness. It would be unjust to charge the sins of parents to the children, who have done nothing wrong. God makes this clear through the words of the prophet Ezekiel (18:2): “Let this parable no longer be spoken, The fathers have eaten unripe grapes, and the children’s teeth shall be set on edge.” The Lord also gave this commandment, through Moses: And the sons shall not be put to death for the fathers; everyone shall be put to death for his own sin (Dt. 24:18). But some might object, “Yet it is written, I am the Lord thy God, a jealous God, recompensing the sins of the fathers upon the children, to the third and fourth generation (Ex. 20:5).” It must be understood that this is not a universal decree applying to all men at all times, but only to those who came out of Egypt. Also, the meaning of the decree must be considered carefully. It does not say that the children are punished for the sins of their fathers, but rather that the sins of the fathers—meaning, the punishments for their sins—will be “recompensed” upon their children. This is because the children have committed the same sins as the fathers. The Lord did not want those who came out of Egypt to think that if they committed the same or worse sins than their fathers they would not be punished. Another way to put it is: “The sins of your fathers (that is, the penalty for their sins,) will come upon you also, because you did not become better than they, but have committed the same, and even worse.” Even when you see infants taken from this life, you must understand clearly that God cut their life short out of love for man. Had they lived, they would have become worse than their parents and filled their own souls, and the souls of many others, with wickedness. But all this is hidden in the abyss of God’s judgments. Let us now continue.

Now another perplexity arises. One might ask, “How could Christ say this? Was it not unjust to deprive this man of his sight so that the works of God should be made manifest in him? Could not these works have been revealed some other way?” We would answer, “How have you been treated unjustly, O man?” “I have been robbed of light,” he replies. “But what harm did you suffer by being deprived of material light? Now you have received not only physical vision, but that incomparable blessing—the enlightenment of the eyes of your soul.” Thus the affliction was to the blind man’s benefit, and through his healing he came to know the true Sun of Righteousness. Therefore, the blind man was not wronged; he was blessed.

Now, understand this as well, every student of Divine Scripture: the conjunctions ἵνα and ὅπως (both translated in English as “that”) are often used to express the outcome, but not the intended result, of the action stated in the main clause. Thus David says, Against Thee only have I sinned, … that Thou mightest be justified in Thy words (Ps. 50:4). The word that introduces a result unintended by David. When David sinned, he did not do so with the purpose in mind of justifying God; but his sinning did result in God being justified. David proved himself unworthy of all that God had given him: he abused his royal power, committed murder and adultery, violated divine commandments, and showed contempt for God. Taking advantage of his kingship, David spurned the laws of the One Who made him king. Had he been a commoner, he would have been unable to commit the two great sins so easily. Once the Lord had examined and decided his case, the necessary consequence of David’s crimes was that God was justified and had prevailed over the king who was condemned. There are many places in the Epistles where such expressions are used. In Romans Paul writes, “Because that which may be known of God is manifest to the Greeks, for God hath showed it unto them, making His eternal power and Godhead . . . understood by the things that are made, . . . so that they are without excuse (Rom. 1:19-20).” God did not give this knowledge to the Greeks in order to deprive them of any excuse when they sinned. He gave it to them so that they would not sin. When they did sin, their knowledge of the Creator manifest in His creation rendered them guilty without excuse. Likewise, in another place Paul says, The law entered, that the offense might abound (Rom. 5:20), although the law certainly was not given in order to make sin more prevalent, but just the opposite, to keep it in check. But because the recipients of the law did not want to restrain their sin, the law—defining what is a transgression—resulted in sin “abounding.” They considered their sins to be greater and more numerous because they sinned with full knowledge of the law.

In light of all this, Jesus’ words here, that the works of God should be made manifest, do not supply the reason why the man was born blind, but state the consequence—good came from evil, to the glory of God. Let us suppose that a man builds a house but leaves one portion of it unfinished, for this reason: at a later time, if anyone should question if he were the builder, he could  dispel any doubt on this score by completing the unfinished part to match perfectly with the original. In like manner, Jesus our God fashioned all the members of the blind man’s body except for the eyes, which He omitted. By healing them now, He completes the divine act of creating and demonstrates that He is the Creator. When He said, “that the glory of God should be made manifest,” He was referring to Himself, not the Father. The glory of the Father was obvious; it was His own glory, equal to the Father’s, that needed to be revealed. For He Who now appears as a man, in the beginning fashioned man. That He is speaking about Himself becomes clear from what follows: “I must work the works of Him that sent Me. I must reveal Myself by doing the very same works as the Father.” Note that He does not say, “I must do works similar to the Father’s,” but “ works identical to those done by the Father Who sent Me. I must do them while it is day, that is, during this present life, when men can choose to believe in Me. For the night cometh, when no man can work, that is, believe. In the age to come, it will be too late to believe.” Day means this present life, when we are able to work, as we do during the day. But, elsewhere in Scripture, Paul calls life night, because we cannot know in this life whether a man pursues virtue or wickedness—his thoughts and motives are hidden from us. Moreover, Paul calls this life night by comparison to the daylight of the age to come, in which the righteous will shine. Christ refers to the age to come as night, when no man can work; Paul calls this day, since the righteous will be illumined and the deeds of each revealed. In the age to come there will be no faith, but only obedience—voluntary or involuntary. “As long as I am in the world, I am the light of the world,” says Christ, “because I enlighten souls by My teaching and miracles. By healing the blind man’s eyes and giving them light, I shall enlighten the souls of many. I am Light, and I illumine both the senses and the spirit.”

When He had thus spoken—Jesus did not stop with words, but at once added the deed—He spat on the ground, and having made clay, He anointed the eyes of the blind man. By using the clay, the Lord showed that it was He Who formed Adam out of clay. Earlier He announced, in so many words, “I am He Who formed Adam,” offending His listeners; now He demonstrates with an irrefutable deed the truth of that proclamation. Jesus created eyes for the blind man out of clay, just as He had done for Adam. He did not merely fashion the eyes, or open them, but gave them vision. This proves that it was He Who breathed the soul into Adam. Without the soul being present to impart its divine energy, even a perfectly formed eye would see nothing. Christ used spittle to make him see, because He was about to send the blind man to the pool of Siloam and wanted to make clear that He, not the water of that spring, was the source of the miracle. Let us learn that He fashioned and opened the man’s eyes by the power which  proceeds from His mouth; this is why He spat on the ground to make clay. Then, lest anyone imagine that the source of the miracle was the earth, He ordered the man to wash off the clay. Some say that the clay was not removed, but was fashioned into eyes.

Why does He command him to go to the pool of Siloam? First, that we may learn of the blind man's faith and obedience. He did not reason, "If the clay and the spittle will give me eyes, why must I wash in the pool of Siloam?" Instead, he obeyed the One Who commanded. Second, with this order, the Lord confounds the Jews who wilfully rejected Him. It is likely that many saw Him anoint the man's eyes with clay and paid close attention to what He was doing. As a result, no one could later dispute that the Lord had done these things. Third, by sending the blind man to the pool of Siloam, Christ shows that He is not an opponent of the Old Testament. And why does the Evangelist add the interpretation of the word "Siloam"? So that you might learn that the pool of Siloam is a figure of Christ, and that it was Christ Who healed the man there. Just as Christ is the spiritual Rock, so is He the spiritual Siloam. As the gush of the spring of Siloam was fearful in its strength, so too the advent of the Lord, hidden and unknown to the angels, overwhelmed all sin by its power.

Staggered by this extraordinary miracle, the neighbors still did not believe. Yet the blind man’s arriving at the Pool of Siloam, his eyes smeared with mud, was ordained by the Lord for the express purpose of drawing the attention of many onlookers, who later would be unable to deny that they knew the man. But they disbelieved nevertheless. The Evangelist does not simply remark in passing that the man was a beggar: he does so to show that the Lord’s love for mankind was so inexpressibly great that He condescended to help the most abject of men. With tender solicitude He healed beggars, teaching us to care for the least of our brethren. Unashamed of his former affliction, unafraid of the crowd, the blind man boldly confesses, I am he, and proclaims his benefactor: A man that is called Jesus…. He calls the Lord a man because he knows nothing about Him. But what he does know (of the circumstances of the healing), he confesses to all. How did he know that his healer was Jesus? He had heard the Lord conversing with His disciples. When the disciples asked about the blind man, Christ repeated what He often told them, such as, I must work the works of Him that sent Me (v. 4), and, I am the light of the world (v. 5), and so forth. These were things that no one except the Lord taught, and from them the blind man understood that this was Jesus. That Christ had made clay and anointed his eyes, the blind man knew by feeling; of the spittle, he said nothing because he did not yet know about it. What he did not know, he did not mention, so truthful a man was he.