Dirt ‘n spit ‘n love. This is how Episcopal Priest Rick Morley describes today’s Gospel. Dirt ‘n spit ‘n love --it’s a great description of Jesus’ life isn’t it?
DIRT-- born in a barn, amidst the animals and the straw, the dirt and the mud.
SPIT—The spit of Jesus’ detractors, disgusted by his message of forgiveness. Their hatred turned on its ear as Jesus replaces their water of darkness with a water of light and life---A Living Water given to all, forever.
LOVE---Love for God, love for ourselves and love for our neighbor. That’s Jesus in a nutshell isn’t it? Dirt and spit and love.
As a matter of fact, it’s creation in a nutshell too. As Eucharistic Prayer C puts it: “At your command all things came to be: the vast expanse of interstellar space, galaxies, suns, the planets in their courses, and this fragile earth, our island home.”
The vast expanse of creation---all of this and all of us---- made out of dirt ‘n spit ‘n love.
Our Lenten journey begins with the reminder---We are dust and to dust we shall return. …a reminder that we are nothing without God. Oh we might have our bodies, the earth, a life of sorts, but during Lent we are reminded that a full life, a life of light, a life of living water, a life of love is only gained by and through the grace of God. That’s the message of these past few Sundays, that without the dirt and spit and love of God as given to us through Jesus Christ, we don’t live, we exist. Without the dirt and spit and love of God our eyes may be open but we don’t really see. Without the dirt and spit and love of God we may hear the noise, but never listen to the message. That without the dirt n spit n love of God our thirst—no matter how much water we drink-- will never be quenched.
The past few weeks we’ve heard John’s stories about the darkness of Nicodemus, the thirst of the woman at the well and this morning, the man, blind from birth. As Jesus is walking he sees this man, he notices him. The man isn’t asking for healing, he isn’t, as far as we know, drawing any attention to himself. Nothing we read today tells us that this man, in any way, was seeking Jesus out. All we know is that Jesus realizes it’s a healing moment… a teaching moment … a ministry moment. Now Jesus could have healed the man without the mud, without the mask, without the command to go to the pool at Siloam and wash. ……all he needed to do was say the word and the man would have been healed. So why get muddy? Why pick up the desert dust and spit in his hand to make mud? Because loving us as God loves us, is a messy business.
The disciples begin this encounter by asking a numbskull question about whose sin caused this man’s blindness---as if any of us deserve to be blind, or deaf, or disabled in any way. Instead of rebuking them directly, for assuming that God is some sort of spiteful hateful God—Jesus says, “watch, listen, learn.” For what happens to this man is what needs to happen to everyone--- that the world, through the Son of God will be cured of it’s blindness, that the lost will be found, the thirsty will drink and the unlovable, will be loved
So Jesus prepares his mud paste, with dirt ‘n spit ‘n love applying it to the man’s eyes, sending him to the pool to wash, where he receives his sight. He can see. Of course, the dirt didn’t heal him. It wasn’t the mud which allowed him to see, it wasn’t Jesus’ touch, it wasn’t even the man’s desire to see….it was something else.
Something unquantifiable, indescribable.
What happened was beyond the blind man’s comprehension, it was beyond his neighbors’ comprehension, it’s beyond our comprehension. It was astounding and no one really knew what to make of it---some were sure it was the work of a crazed heretic; others assumed it was a miracle of God, that this Jesus was indeed, the messiah. And for Jesus, this was the exact point---for to him, sight is for believers, blindness for disbelievers—and the miracle of the man who once was blind and now could see, the miracle of that dirt n spit n love of God which Jesus formed into a healing paste was in a word, Grace.
An amazing powerful, grace.
Grace, it’s what’s been coursing through our readings these past few weeks. An amazing, limitless, grace.
It’s what gave Nicodemus the courage to go and see Jesus, it’s what gave the woman at the well a voice to be heard, a charisma to convert those who once shunned her, a thirst quenched by Living Water. It’s what caused Jesus to see the blind man, it’s what carried the man to the pool where he was washed free of darkness, where he was bathed in light.
It’s what makes firefighters run into a burning building, police officers answer a call, rescue workers risk their life for another. It’s what allows us to forgive those who’ve hurt us so deeply,
What causes us to reach to out to those with less, what creates the longing we feel for justice, what makes us fight for causes others have long forgotten, what keeps us pledging our time, talent and treasure to this place, it’s what makes us be better people than we ever thought we could be.
Grace. It takes us from blindness to sight, from wretchedness to worthiness, from darkness to light, from lost to found.
The work of God, the work of Jesus is full of dirt ‘n spit ‘n love, which, when mixed together, into that divine paste, makes Amazing Grace. A grace which when we believe it, when we trust it, when we embrace it, will always lead us home.
Amen.
[turn to Hymn 671]
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