I’ve been mulling over this week’s Lenten Gospel, specifically John 9:6-7. Leading up to this  passage, Jesus and his disciples encounter a blind man. Jesus tells them that the man’s blindness is not a result of sin, either his or his parents’. Jesus says, “While I am in the world, I am the light of the world.” Now, “When Jesus had said this, he spat on the ground and made clay with the saliva, and smeared the clay on his [the blind man’s] eyes, and said to him, ‘Go wash in the Pool of Siloam’ (which means Sent). So the blind man went and washed, and came back able to see.”

I have to admit, when I heard these verses as a child in Sunday school, my first reaction was, “Eeeeeeewwwww. Jesus spit?!” Then, “He put mud on his eyes?!” Then, “He put mud made with spit on his eyes?!” And up until now, I filed away this particular passage of John with Other Things in the Bible I Don’t Want to Think About.

Lent has brought this particular bit of distasteful truth back to my now adult attention, and I keep asking myself, “Why saliva?” Christ turned water into wine, multiplied loaves and fishes, and walked on water. He commanded the elements. Certainly He could have asked for a flask or called down the rain. But He spat.

Why saliva? From then until now, spitting on or at someone has been a sign of contempt. But Christ used it to bless rather than curse. Well, that’s certainly consistent with His “turn the tables” practice. More than once in the Gospels, Jesus prefaces his teaching with, “You have heard it said, but I say unto you…”

But why saliva? Twenti-first Century readers might assume that there was something phenomenal about Jesus’ DNA, that this was a supernatural loogie with healing powers.  For me this calls attention to the combined humanity and divinity of Christ. He ate, He drank, He spat. In the desert he probably sweated up a storm. But with these human functions He achieved divine results. It raises the question for me — are there aspects of my own gross humanity that I can use to help advance the divine plan? If that’s what I take from this Gospel, it’s a pretty good start.

But I think I probably should quibble less with the spit factor and shift my focus to the recipient of this act of grace — the blind man. He didn’t ask questions. He didn’t debate the nature of Christ or his methods. He accepted the miracle at face value (sorry — bad pun).  The first time he is questioned by the Pharisees he gives a brief description of what happened. The second time he focuses on the results and gives us the line most identified with amazing grace: “One thing I do know is that I was blind and now I see.” The third time he says, “‘I told you already and you did not listen.  Why do you want to hear it again? Do you want to become his disciples, too?'” (John 9:24-27)

I’ve asked three times, why saliva? Had I been there in that time and place I’m sure the once-blind man would have given me exactly the same answers he gave to the three interrogations from the Pharisees. In essence, he said, look at the results and follow Him.

Do I want to become His disciple, too?

Yes. Yes, I do.

Wishing you a space for grace in your life today,
Kate