The Question Jesus Asks, a sermon based on Psalm 23 and John 9: 1-41, preached on March 15, 2026

That was a long second Scripture lesson. You have to read the whole thing, though, to get the whole story, and getting the whole story is something that everyone is interested in. We all want to know the good, the bad, and the ugly. I once knew a lady who said, “If you don’t have anything nice to say, come sit by me.” Spill. Give me the dirt. Tell me the story. Who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind? When I first read it, I couldn’t believe that anyone would ask a question such as that in our second Scripture lesson, “Who sinned?” Then, I started to think how finding someone to blame is so natural a thing that it’s basically our national pastime. Think about it. When someone gets divorced, what kind of questions do we ask? We ask: What did he do? Who cheated? What happened? Who sinned, was it him or his spouse, that they are getting divorced? Asking some version of, “Who sinned?” is a natural question for us to ask, yet notice with me that Jesus doesn’t spend any time answering that question, for the question that Jesus asks is, “Do you want to be made well?” That’s what He asked the first time He healed on the Sabbath back in chapter 5. I wanted to include that chapter in our second Scripture lesson for today, too, but then I thought, “Maybe 41 verses is enough,” and it is for us to get this point: When the disciples asked, “Who is to blame?” the question Jesus asks is, “Do you want to be made well?” and that’s the question to ask people who are going through a divorce. Not, “Was it your fault or his?” but “How can I support you as you walk through the valley?” It’s hard, though, to ask such a helpful question if we get wrapped up in assigning blame, so know this: We are the ones who like to assign blame, while Jesus came, not to condemn the world, but to save it, and so He asks, not “Who did what?” but “Do you want to be made well?” That’s the question that Jesus asks, yet the church gets mixed up in assigning blame just as those first disciples did. Let me give you an example. Have I ever told you where I got my bike? I like riding my bike to the church. People stop and watch me ride by, as though they’ve never seen a man in a suit riding a bike. I like riding my bike to the church. Riding a bike gets people’s attention. I like attention. It’s also good exercise, which I like as well. Considering traffic in Marietta, a lot of the time I make it here to the church faster on my bike than I would have if I were driving a car. I like that too, but back to where my bike came from. I bought my bike for $100 about 15 years ago. If you know anything about bikes, then you might know that my bike is basically an antique. A teal Bianchi as old as mine is a collector’s item. Models like it sell for $500 to $1,000 which is why I keep that bike lock on it. Those who recognize the make and model know it’s worth money, yet I bought it for $100, which I thought was a deal. That was before I heard that the prior owner probably rode it naked. Did you hear that? Yes. I said, “naked.” Just like Adam and Eve. The man who owned my bike before I did was arrested for running through the county park in the nude. Because we lived in a small town, his arrest made the newspaper, and when news of his arrest reached me, I bought a new seat for my bicycle. Here’s why I’m telling you this: This all happened in small town, Columbia, Tennessee. Columbia, Tennessee has a Church of Christ church on every corner. If you know anything about the Church of Christ, then you know that they don’t have instruments. They sing a cappella. They don’t ordain women to the ministry. They’re very against dancing and alcohol, and if you mess up, you must confess your sins before the whole congregation. The man who owned my bike was a member of the West 7th Street Church of Christ, and the members of the West 7th Street Church of Christ were particularly diligent about having people confess their sins publicly. If you were caught drinking, you had to confess during worship on Sunday in front of everyone. If you were caught dancing, you had to do the same. And if you were caught running nude through the county park, you definitely had to make a public confession, so this man who owned my bike had to stand and repent before the whole congregation. Can you imagine? I can because I’m standing up in front of a room full of people who knew me when I was a teenager. You know, people ask me all the time, “What is it like to be a pastor in the town you grew up in?” I tell you; it’s a strange thing to be a religious authority in the town who remembers me when I was running around this church when I was supposed to be in Confirmation Class or the youth group meeting. When I first got back here in 2017, Howard Swinford told me how to get on the roof of the church, and when he did, he said, “We can show you this now.” I got in trouble all the time, and people remember. The other day, I was with my 7th grade English teacher, Betty Neale Lawton. I loved Mrs. Lawton. To know Mrs. Lawton is to love Mrs. Lawton, but that didn’t mean that I was always good in her class, and those memories of misbehavior stay fresh because she keeps bringing them up. The other day, I was standing in front of the church with Mrs. Lawton, my 7th grade English teacher, and Dr. Bob Harper, who treated my teenage acne. Mrs. Lawton wanted to tell Bob about the time she had to pull my friends and me out in the hallway to tell us we had to stop talking in her class, and because I loved Mrs. Lawton so much, I took her words to heart. After she let us know that we were being disrespectful to her, I felt shame and guilt in my heart. Those feelings were overwhelming me as I sat back down at my desk, and this is what Mrs. Lawton remembered, that when I sat back down, she saw tears in my eyes. “He got in trouble all the time, but he had a big heart. That’s what I remember,” Mrs. Lawton said, and I still don’t like getting in trouble, but the story I just told you isn’t about a boy who got in trouble. The story I just told you is the story of a teacher who loves me despite my sin, so what is it like to serve the Lord as a pastor in the same town as the dermatologist who treated my acne and the English teacher who had to address my bad behavior? It’s healing. It’s redeeming. Would you be healed? You know, it’s not easy to accept the invitation to healing. If you want to be forgiven, you must confess. If you want to be saved, you must admit you need a savior. If you want to be healed, you must let someone see your wounds. Christians don’t deal with problems by running away from them, but by turning towards the Savior. Go home to the Father and feel His arms of mercy wrap around you. Learn to face the people you hurt, not with fear, but with faith. Don’t avoid what feels awkward or uncomfortable, for you won’t make it to Heaven pretending to be perfect. To get there you must answer His question: “Would you be made well?” Would you rely on His grace? My friends: I have no righteousness of my own. I have been saved by His grace. Redeemed by His mercy. Found. Healed. Forgiven. Would you be made well? Amen.