Question Your Certainty
What a Blind Man Teaches Us About Seeing
A second time they summoned the man who had been blind. “Give glory to God by telling the truth,” they said. “We know this man is a sinner.”
He replied, “Whether he is a sinner or not, I don’t know. One thing I do know. I was blind but now I see!”
John 9:24-25 NIV
Last week, I made the case that one of the greatest barriers to learning isn’t ignorance but the fear of looking ignorant. Using Jesus’ disciples as a case study, I encouraged us to recover curiosity, which requires us to become more comfortable with three simple words:
“I don’t know.”
But there’s another phrase that may require even more humility to say:
“I could be wrong.”
It’s one thing to admit you don’t know something. It’s another to discover that something you’ve believed for years may not be true.
There’s a quote often attributed to Mark Twain that captures this tension perfectly:
“It ain’t what you don’t know that gets you into trouble. It’s what you know for sure that just ain’t so.”
There’s just one problem.
Mark Twain may or may not have said it.
Which, admittedly, feels like the perfect way to begin a reflection about the danger of certainty.
Whether Twain said it or not, the observation remains worth considering because some of the most difficult ideas to examine are the ones we’ve stopped examining altogether. They are the assumptions, interpretations, and conclusions we’ve carried for so long that we no longer consider them beliefs but facts.
And few things are more dangerous to intellectual curiosity than unquestioned certainty.
To be clear, this isn’t an argument against conviction. There are things I believe deeply and truths around which I have organized my entire life.
Intellectual humility doesn’t require us to abandon conviction or live perpetually unsure of everything we believe.
It simply requires enough humility to recognize that our understanding of truth and truth itself are not always the same thing.
Jesus encountered this problem constantly.
Some of His fiercest conflicts weren’t with people who knew too little about God. They were with people who were convinced they already knew everything they needed to know.
John 9 gives us one of the clearest examples.
Jesus and His disciples encounter a man who had been blind from birth. After Jesus restores his sight, what should have been cause for celebration quickly becomes an investigation. The religious leaders begin questioning the man, his parents, and eventually the man again because Jesus performed the healing on the Sabbath.
Their problem wasn’t a lack of evidence.
A man who had never been able to see was standing in front of them with his sight restored.
Their problem was that the evidence didn’t fit what they already believed.
At one point, they tell the formerly blind man, “We know that this man is a sinner.”
Pay attention to those first two words.
“We know.”
They weren’t investigating anymore. Their conclusion had already been reached. Jesus had violated their understanding of the Sabbath, which meant Jesus could not possibly be from God. Anything suggesting otherwise had to be explained away.
That’s what certainty can do to us.
Once we’ve decided what must be true, we can become remarkably skilled at dismissing anything that suggests otherwise.
The irony here is almost impossible to miss. The man who begins the chapter unable to see gradually develops clearer and clearer vision, not merely physically but spiritually. His understanding of Jesus grows throughout the conversation.
At first, He’s “the man they call Jesus.”
Later, the formerly blind man calls Him a prophet.
Eventually, when Jesus reveals Himself more fully, the man responds, “Lord, I believe,” and worships Him.
Meanwhile, the people who begin the chapter convinced they can see become increasingly blind.
Jesus eventually makes the metaphor explicit:
“For judgment I have come into this world, so that the blind will see and those who see will become blind.”
John 9:39 NIV
Some Pharisees overhear Him and ask, “What? Are we blind too?”
That’s the question all of us should be willing to ask occasionally.
It doesn’t weaken our conviction; it refines it.
We can hold tightly to Jesus while remaining humble about ourselves.
Because sometimes the greatest obstacle to seeing isn’t blindness.
It’s being certain that you can see.
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What I’m Reading:
I mention Kin every few weeks because it's the pick for my Virtual Summer Book Club. We're gathering for our second live conversation next Wednesday, August 19, over Zoom, and there's still time to join us. I'll post a link below.
What I’m Listening To:
Not much has changed since last week. I’ve been listening to a lot of podcasts to study the craft. I'm committed to what I jokingly call the "Frankenstein approach" to learning: taking a little from many people, synthesizing it, and developing a style that's authentically my own. I’ll keep you posted on my progress.
What KS Is Up To:
This past Sunday, we continued our summer series, KS at the Movies, which is our attempt to copy Jesus’ illustrative genius by using movies as modern-day parables.
The Week 6 message was based on the movie Annie. I’ll post a link to our church’s podcast, which is now on Substack as well, so you can check out the recap.
Week 7 will be based on Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone, where we'll explore what it means to be born with a target on your back.