Questions for a Blind Man

I am slowly making my way through the book of John when I don't have inspiration as to what to focus on during my quiet times.  This morning I read John 9.

The first segment of the chapter covers the story of the man born blind, whom Jesus healed.  I have read this passage many, many times, but never saw it in quite this (comedic) light before.  Here is the loose Cindy-fied translation:

Jesus is walking along, and he and his disciples see this man who has been blind his whole life.
"Whose fault is it that he is blind?  His, or his parents'?"  Pinning blame must help us make sense of the world.
Jesus said, "Neither.  He is blind so that God could be glorified in his life."
After he said this, Jesus made a substantial spit wad on the ground and made mud from his spit.  He took that mud, put it on the blind man's eyes, and told him to go wash it off.
[OK, I have to butt in here.  Imagine being in the blind man's shoes so far: the disciples started talking about him as though he not only couldn't see them, but he couldn't hear him either, then next thing he knows, someone hawks a loogie and smears mud on his eyes.  Then he has the gall to tell him to go wash it off.  Can somebody say 'lawsuit'?]
While the man goes to clean up, Jesus and the disciples continue walking along.
Later, the blind man comes back, not blind anymore.  His neighbors question him, "What happened?  Are you sure you're the same person?  How can you see?"
The man says, "Yes, it's really me.  Some guy called Jesus made some mud and put it on my eyes, and told me to wash, so I did and now I can see!"
"Where is he?" they asked.
"I don't know," the man answered.

Can you anticipate the question that is begging to be asked?

"Well, what did he look like?"



If you're looking for some serious encouragement, track back to the ladies at Soli Deo Gloria.  They're pretty amazing, if I don't say so myself.