In the ancient Jewish world, blindness was not just a physical ailment. In popular thought it carried a terrible stigma. This arose from a false interpretation of the Law of Moses, which stated that people who were blind or lame could not fight in the army of God’s people. There was good reason for this: soldiers who cannot move fast or see the enemy are not going to be much help to their comrades. However, an extreme interpretation of the rule concluded wrongly that anyone who could not fight in God’s army could never enter God’s kingdom. The next step was to class them as sinners, and that in turn led them being refused word and reduced to begging. Jesus denies that the man’s blindness was caused by anyone’s sin: on the contrary, this man will make God’s works visible. This passage is long and complicated, but we hear of a formerly blind man – notice how briefly the miracle itself is described: over and done with in a couple of sentences – who becomes increasingly full of life and who very soon teaches the Pharisees the ways of God. They become more obsessed about how a sinner could possibly open the eyes of a man born blind. They furiously insist that they are disciples of Moses.
There is another aspect to this light/darkness scenario, exemplified by the parents of the blind man. They’re asked if this is their son, if he was born blind and, if so, how he can now see. They reply “yes” to the first two questions, but refuse to comment on his new sight. “He is old enough: let him speak for himself,” they say, because they fear being expelled from the synagogue if they are perceived to be followers of Jesus. In the Gospels people either accept Jesus as the light, or they reject Him, remaining in darkness. There is no middle road. Later, Jesus will insist that there is only one sign for those who claim to be His disciples, who follow His light: they love one another in the same way that He loved us.