For the brave among us, turning on any of the “news” programs is like watching an extended version of the blame game. It is never anybody’s fault anymore. Actions and words that are on film and on the record are denied the minute the tide changes and what was said or done no longer fits the current agenda. It boggles the mind how callous and deceitful people can be. Rather than stand up for what they said or did, the finger immediately comes out and they point to their enemy with emphatic “It wasn’t me. I didn’t do it. They are the ones that did wrong.” Like two young brothers trying to avoid punishment for hitting each other, they deflect responsibility and falsely accuse the other of the crime. And it’s just as childish.

In our Scripture today, we witness the miracle of Jesus’ healing a blind man with the simple elements of dirt and spit. One would think that this incredible, mind blowing thing would have people on their knees in awe and wonder. But other things take precedence, like trying to figure out who to blame for his blindness.

John 9: 1-41 (The Message)

 ^1-2 Walking down the street, Jesus saw a man blind from birth. His disciples asked, “Rabbi, who sinned: this man or his parents, causing him to be born blind?”

^3-5 Jesus said, “You’re asking the wrong question. You’re looking for someone to blame. There is no such cause-effect here. Look instead for what God can do. We need to be energetically at work for the One who sent me here, working while the sun shines. When night falls, the workday is over. For as long as I am in the world, there is plenty of light. I am the world’s Light.”

We need to remember that in those times, disabilities like blindness were thought to be the result of sin. The Jewish understanding of the Levitical blessings and curses detailed in Leviticus 26 led them to believe that disobedience to God’s Word resulted in physical impairments. But even with that background, it is very disappointing to read that the disciples’ first reaction was to try to assess blame rather than to see how they might be able to help the man. They imply that the sin that led to the man’s blindness might even be the result of his parent’s sin, since he was blind from birth. 

I love Jesus’ immediate reaction. His sharp response left no room for interpretation. “You’re asking the wrong question.” They tried to impose their faulty theology on the situation when what the situation actually called for compassion and action.

I’m sure all of us are guilty of asking the wrong question from time to time. I remembered a scene from the old Pink Panther movie that illustrates this and still makes me laugh. Inspector Jacques Clouseau is checking into a hotel and there is a dog at the registration desk. 

Clouseau asks, “Does your dog bite?” The Hotel Clerk responds “No.” Clouseau bows down to pet the dog. “Nice doggie.” And immediately the dog barks and bites Clouseau’s hand.

Clouseau says,  “I thought you said your dog did not bite!” The Hotel Clerk responds, “That is not my dog.” Poor Clouseau! He asked the wrong question.

When we come upon someone who needs our help, maybe it is better and more Christ-like to ask, “How can I help” rather than, “How did you end up in this situation?” What we see can be severely clouded by our assumptions. We hear that someone has lung cancer, and we assume they are a heavy smoker. We see a teenager get arrested and we assume it is a result of bad parenting. We hear that someone got fired, and we speculate about what they did something to deserve it. We read a bad review of a doctor on Facebook, and we assume they are at fault.

Blame-casting and making assumptions have very little value when they replace just looking at situations with unbiased eyes and trying to see what God sees.

The challenge for us today is to be better than the disciples in this story and start asking the right questions. Next time you see someone in need, ask God to show you what he sees, and ask him to show you how you can help. Lent asks us this question: Can you see what God sees? Or do you need God to heal you of your blindness?

I See the Moon and the Moon Sees Me by Michelle Robertson