20. In Jerusalem. The Preaching of Jesus Christ at the Midpoint and on the Last Day of the Feast of Tabernacles. The Healing of the Man Born Blind

The Feast of Tabernacles was one of the most solemn of the Jewish festivals, and for its observance an enormous multitude of people came together, hastening both to give thanks to God for all the blessings of the passing year and to take part in all its celebrations. The people at this time, having finished all their field work and gathered in the grapes, felt themselves particularly free and gave themselves up to both religious and worldly enjoyments. The very festival served as a commemoration of the wandering of the Israelites through the desert, and was observed with such universal rejoicing that Josephus Flavius and Philo call it “the most holy and greatest of feasts,” and among the Jews it was known as the feast par excellence. It was observed over seven consecutive days, from the 15th to the 21st of the month of Tishri, and the eighth day was spent in a sacred assembly. Throughout the seven days the Jews, in memory of their wandering through the desert, dwelt in small booths made of the thick-leaved branches of olive, palm, and myrtle trees, and each carried in his hand a bunch of greenery (lulav) consisting of palm and willow branches together with peach and citron fruits. During the week of the feast all the priests took turns at the service; seventy bullocks were sacrificed for the seventy nations of the world; the law was read daily and daily the Temple trumpets sounded the inspired and solemn hymns twenty-one times. The rejoicing was undoubtedly heightened still further by the fact that this feast came only four days after the solemn rites of the great Day of Atonement, on which the ceremonial expiation of the sins of the entire people took place. Such solemnity of the feast might have had an unfavorable effect on the mood of the people. Had the Savior appeared openly in Jerusalem among the enthusiastic pilgrims, their enthusiasm might easily have turned into political tumult, as had not infrequently happened before, especially with the Galileans, who were distinguished by the greatest ardor of patriotic spirit. He therefore avoided every occasion for this, and even in response to His “brethren’s” question as to whether He would go to this feast at all, He answered evasively that He was not yet going. And now, being not far from Jerusalem, He did not go to the feast immediately but only some days later, so that many supposed He would not be at the feast at all.

Meanwhile the festive people were indeed in an unusually enthusiastic mood. Pilgrims gathered from all parts exchanged with one another in astonishment reports of the extraordinary miracles of the Galilean Prophet they had witnessed, and of the Divine teaching they had heard from Him. The fame of Christ was resounding throughout the land, and its echoes now merged into one solemn chorus of glorification in Jerusalem. But where was the Prophet Himself? everyone was asking. Would He not come to this solemn national festival? Day after day passed, yet Christ was not there, and the people had already ceased to be agitated by thoughts of Him. But it was precisely then, in the middle of the feast, that Christ appeared—to sow the seeds of His Divine teaching in the soil of a heart quieted and unstirred by passions. As usual He came forward in the porch of the Temple, where rabbis customarily taught the people. It was enough for this Divine Preacher—who taught as no man had ever been able to teach, burning the hearts of men with a word of love and truth—to appear, and the people immediately surrounded Him, leaving the important scribes to busy themselves alone with their casuistical subtleties. Such a sudden appearance of the long-absent Galilean Prophet was no small astonishment to the scribes, and the people’s preference for Him aroused in them extreme envy and malice. The scribes were compelled by necessity to join the other hearers of Christ, but in the crowd began to spread distrust of the Galilean Preacher’s learning. “How knoweth this man letters, having never learned?” (John 7:15). Overhearing these rumors, the Savior did not fail to give a deep lesson that not every teaching is wisdom. His teaching is higher. It comes from the One who sent Him, and everyone who does the will of God can grasp the truths He proclaims. Such an open declaration further enraged the scribes, and there flickered in them the bloodthirsty thought of somehow getting rid by force of so dangerous a rival who exposed all the falseness and emptiness of their legalism. But Christ immediately penetrated their crafty thoughts and publicly asked: “Why go ye about to kill Me?” (John 7:19). Such a question, which flashed like lightning to illuminate the dark secret of the malicious scribes, must have thrown them into extraordinary confusion, and to suppress this confusion and smother the dangerous question, they found no other means than to declare Jesus mad and of unsound mind.

The scribes did not delay in communicating their confusion to the Sanhedrin, and in this supreme court a plan of action against the Teacher so disagreeable to its members was immediately formed. It dispatched a secret deputation to gather information about the teaching of Jesus and then to arrest Him. Meanwhile the feast was drawing to a close and the last day of it arrived. On that day a particularly solemn ceremony was performed. The people went to the Temple, and when the morning sacrifice was placed upon the altar, one of the priests went with a golden vessel to the pool of Siloam, not far from the foot of Mount Zion, and drew thence three log of water, which were then borne in solemn procession through the Water Gate into the Temple. On the entry of this procession within the precincts of the Temple, the Levites blew the sacred trumpets until the procession reached the altar itself, where the water was poured into a silver vessel on the left side, while wine was poured into a silver vessel on the right side. Then began the singing of the great Hallel (Psalms 115–118), and when they came to the verse “O give thanks unto the Lord; for He is good: for His mercy endureth for ever,” every one of the festively clad worshippers standing at the altar joyously waved his lulav. In the evening the people gave themselves up to such rejoicings that, in the expression of the rabbis, whoever had not seen “the joy of the water-drawing” knew not what joy was. The Savior was also in the Temple at this time and, availing Himself of this ceremony, began to direct the thoughts of the people to the spiritual drawing from that source of living water of which the one who drinks shall never thirst again. Standing in the midst of the crowd, He cried out: “If any man thirst, let him come unto Me, and drink. He that believeth on Me, as the scripture hath said, out of his belly shall flow rivers of living water” (John 7:37–38)—that is, under the action of the Holy Spirit about to descend, those who believe in Him would not only be renewed in their inner life but would be able to pour forth streams of life upon others as well, through the spread of the Gospel of Christ. Such preaching struck many by its irresistible vitality and at the same time mysteriousness, and in the crowd there began animated discussions about the Preacher Himself. Some maintained that “Of a truth this is the Prophet”; others went still further and said plainly: “this is the Christ” (John 7:40, 41). And others—the learned scribes—hotly refuted this last opinion, adducing a ready scholarly argument against it. “Shall Christ come out of Galilee? Hath not the scripture said, That Christ cometh of the seed of David, and out of the town of Bethlehem, where David was?” (John 7:41–42). The discussions turned into a bitter dispute, and Christ’s opponents, being unable to draw the people away from Him by arguments, wanted simply to seize Him; but His hour had not yet come, and “no man laid hands on Him” (John 7:44). Not even those sent by the Sanhedrin dared do so. Patrolling the porches of the Temple, they too could not help hearing something of the wondrous teaching that flowed from His lips. But having listened to Him, they could no longer carry out their commission. They submitted to the irresistible influence that the divine Teacher exerted. To listen to Him meant not only to be disarmed of any attempt against Him, but almost to be converted from a most bitter enemy into a reverent disciple. “Never man spake like this Man,” (John 7:46)—that was all they could say of Him. The members of the Sanhedrin could only respond with fruitless anger and a contemptuous reproach that they too had probably been beguiled and believed in this Prophet beloved of the ignorant, accursed, and pitiful crowd. Nicodemus, in whose heart a spark of faith had long been smoldering, ventured to object that one should perhaps first learn the truth properly before condemning. But this just observation was disregarded, and the members of the Sanhedrin again resorted to unworthy mockery and their ignorant legalism. “Art thou also of Galilee? Search, and look: for out of Galilee ariseth no prophet,” (John 7:52) they shamelessly asserted, forgetting that Galilee had already produced several of the greatest prophets, among them Elijah and Jonah. “And every man went unto his own house. But Jesus went unto the mount of Olives” (John 7:53; 8:1) to refresh His weary soul there in solitary prayer.

The next morning Christ again appeared in the Temple and continued His preaching. But His enemies had already been prowling around the Temple beforehand, plotting against the Teacher they hated. They had evidently not slept all night, and were exceedingly glad to find a way to place Christ in what seemed to them an inescapable difficulty. In the midst of the merriment and license of the Feast of Tabernacles there had been acts of immorality and dissipation, and a woman had fallen into their hands, caught in adultery. The scribes did not fail to use this occasion for the laconic snaring of the Galilean they hated. Strictly speaking, it was not their business to accuse her but her husband’s, and she could not be subjected to the legal punishment except by divorce, if he himself was not a man of pure life. In difficult cases, however, the Jews were accustomed to consult some famous teacher, and it was precisely with this custom that they wished to mask their cunning scheme. If, they reasoned, Jesus condemns her and insists on stoning her in accordance with the law (Lev. 20:10; Deut. 22:24), this will harm Him in the eyes of the people, since this law had long since ceased to be enforced, precisely because of the too great prevalence of the very crime itself. If on the other hand He releases her, they can accuse Him of condoning the law, since it was still formally obligatory. To condemn her to death, moreover, would on His part be an encroachment on the right belonging exclusively to the Roman governor. In any case they thought they would put Him in an impossible position. Brazenly dragging to Him the wretched, disheveled adulteress, they said to Him: “Master, this woman was taken in adultery, in the very act. Now Moses in the law commanded us, that such should be stoned: but what sayest Thou?” (John 8:4–5). The Savior saw their brazen cunning and was ashamed for His people. As if not having heard the question addressed to Him, He bent down and with His finger wrote on the ground in silence. Then, having composed His spirit, the Savior raised His thoughtful gaze and gently remarked to the brazen questioners: “He that is without sin among you, let him first cast a stone at her” (John 8:7). Having said this, He stooped again and continued writing on the floor. But this was enough. The cunningly devised scheme dissolved to nothing. Christ, avoiding legalistic discussion about the guilty woman, brought the accusers themselves before the judgment of their own conscience. And they could not endure this judgment. Their awakened conscience revealed to them their own guilt, which deprived them of all right to condemn their neighbor. And so, abashed and ashamed, they went out one by one in silence from the Temple, leaving the woman alone with Christ. The guilty woman trembled before her Divine Judge and did not go away, awaiting His final decision. Turning upon her His infinitely loving gaze, the Savior asked her: “Woman, where are those thine accusers? Hath no man condemned thee?”—“No man, Lord,” she answered. — “Neither do I condemn thee: go, and sin no more” (John 8:10–11), such was His infinitely merciful decision, proving at the same time His right by His Godhead to place mercy above the common law.

To reveal still more fully His Divine dignity, Christ, continuing His preaching, pointed to yet another aspect of His being—namely, that “He is the light of the world” (John 9:5). These solemn words, proceeding from the lips of a humble Galilean, could only mean that the Preacher was not a simple man, not a simple Galilean teacher, but the true God, as the source of all the light of truth. When the Jews objected to this, saying that He was praising Himself without sufficient grounds, Christ pointed directly to the fact that He had yet another Divine witness in heaven—namely the heavenly Father, with Whom He is one; and He then declared to them that through their sins they had become incapable of understanding His exalted teaching, and that they vainly placed their trust in salvation on their descent from Abraham, whom they nonetheless rejected by their opposition to Christ. If they were truly sons of Abraham, they would act according to his covenant and would by no means be hostile to the One who was the fulfillment of the great promise to the father of believers. Abraham, their father, would not have acted thus. He, as the father of believers, “rejoiced to see My day: and he saw it, and was glad” (John 8:56). These last words seemed strange and blasphemous to the Jews. Failing to understand their true meaning, they said in astonishment: “Thou art not yet fifty years old, and hast Thou seen Abraham?” (John 8:57). To this Christ responded with an even more solemn revelation of His Godhead, saying: “Verily, verily, I say unto you, Before Abraham was, I am” (John 8:58). In these words He disclosed to them the dreadful secret of His eternal being, His pre-existence before His entry into the body of mortality; but this great and terrible revelation of His Godhead only further inflamed the Jews. Unable to endure such preaching any longer, they took up stones to stone Christ as a blasphemer. But His hour had not yet come, and He went out from the Temple unharmed.

This bloodthirsty outburst of the Jews did not prevent Christ from appearing in Jerusalem again after some time, and on this occasion He proved His Godhead by a new and striking miracle. Passing by the Temple, the Savior saw a man blind from birth who was living by begging from passers-by. The wretched condition of this blind man also drew the attention of the disciples, who occupied themselves with the question of who exactly was to blame for the misfortune of this man—the man himself or his parents. The Savior answered them that the blindness of this man was not a consequence of either his own sins or the sins of his parents; it was not even a misfortune for him but a great honor, since it was destined to serve as an instrument for the manifestation of the works of God. Then, once again declaring Himself “the light of the world,” the Savior “spat on the ground, and made clay of the spittle,” and having “anointed the eyes of the blind man with the clay” (John 9:6), told him to go and wash in the pool of Siloam. The blind man went, washed—and received his sight. Filled with extraordinary joy at such a miraculous bestowal of the greatest gift of sight, the formerly blind man naturally did not keep silent about the miracle that had been wrought upon him. And he himself was very well known in Jerusalem as the familiar blind beggar, and his appearance now with sight created a strong commotion. Those who knew him well could barely believe his own statement that he was indeed that blind beggar so well known to them. They were lost in amazement and made him tell the story of his healing several times. But this story added to their astonishment yet another ground for Pharisaic indignation, because this healing too had been performed on the Sabbath. The rabbis generally prohibited anointing even one eye with clay on the Sabbath except in cases of mortal danger. This work of mercy was in the deepest inner harmony with the very foundations of the Sabbath institution and with the moral lessons it was ordained to proclaim unceasingly. But the spirit of the dead letter and slavish petty compliance with the law had long since reduced the Sabbath from the height of its true purpose to the level of a pernicious superstition. Accordingly, with all the zeal of religious literalism, they led the formerly blind man for consultation to the Pharisees. Here followed a scene which St. John recounts in the ninth chapter of his Gospel with unrivalled vividness. First there were questions as to what had happened, followed by assurances that Jesus could not be from God because He did not keep the Sabbath; others responded to this that to insist on the violation of the Sabbath meant admitting the miracle itself, and to admit the miracle meant acknowledging that its performer could not be a criminal. Then, coming to a complete standstill, they asked the healed man himself what he thought of his benefactor; and he, being uninitiated into the secrets of their cunning scheme, answered them with fearless directness that evidently “this is a prophet” (John 9:17). The affair was taking a very unpleasant turn for them. They sent for the parents of the formerly blind man. “Is this your son, who ye say was born blind? how then doth he now see?” (John 9:19). But the parents too kept to the simple truth and, with characteristic Jewish servility and cunning, refused to draw any conclusions that might have exposed them to unpleasant consequences. “We know that this is our son, and that he was born blind: but by what means he now seeth, we know not; or who hath opened his eyes, we know not: he is of age; ask him: he shall speak for himself” (John 9:20–21). Then the Pharisees, in terrible confusion, turned once more to the blind man. The Jewish authorities had already resolved to pronounce excommunication from the synagogue on anyone who dared to acknowledge Jesus as the Messiah; the Pharisees therefore apparently hoped that the man being interrogated would be satisfied with their counsel to give glory to God—that is, to deny the miracle—and to accept their verdict that Jesus was a sinner. But the blind man was braver than his parents. He could not be frightened by authority or confused by empty assurances. “We know,” the Pharisees said, “that this man is a sinner.”—“Whether He be a sinner or no, I know not,” answered the formerly blind man: “one thing I know, that, whereas I was blind, now I see” (John 9:25). Then they began anew their wearisome cross-examinations. “What did He to thee? how opened He thine eyes?” (John 9:26). But he was already tired of all this. “I have told you already, and ye did not hear: wherefore would ye hear it again? will ye also be His disciples?” (John 9:27). This bold speech finally exhausted the patience of the questioners, and they began to revile the formerly blind man: “Thou art His disciple; but we are Moses’ disciples. We know that God spake unto Moses: as for this fellow, we know not from whence He is” (John 9:28–29). — “Why herein is a marvellous thing, that ye know not from whence He is, and yet He hath opened mine eyes. Now we know that God heareth not sinners: but if any man be a worshipper of God, and doeth His will, him He heareth. Since the world began was it not heard that any man opened the eyes of one that was born blind. If this man were not of God, He could do nothing” (John 9:30–33). Unable to restrain the explosion of their indignation, they expelled him from their session and excommunicated him from the synagogue. But Christ did not leave without spiritual help His courageous confessor and made him a great revelation. Meeting this man, He asked him: “Dost thou believe on the Son of God?”—“Who is He, Lord,” he answered, “that I might believe on Him?”—“Both hast thou seen Him, and it is He that talketh with thee.”—“Lord, I believe!” (John 9:35–38) he answered and worshipped Him. And thus the man born blind received not only the light of the body but also the light of the spirit, being given sight unto faith in the promised Messiah.