Three accounts in the New Testament tell us how, on different occasions, Jesus healed individuals in what seem to be very strange ways.

In the first case, near Decapolis Jesus healed a man who was deaf and near-mute by putting his fingers into the man’s ears, then spitting and touching the man’s tongue (Mark 7:31-37). Later, in Bethsaida, he healed a blind man by spitting on the man’s eyes and putting his hands on him (Mark 8:22-26). On another occasion, in Jerusalem Jesus healed a man born blind by spitting on the ground, making mud with the saliva, and putting it on the man’s eyes (John 9:6).

Numerous suggestions have been made to explain why Jesus utilized such strange actions in the course of these healings.  Perhaps the most common explanation is that he was “recreating” the person’s hearing or sight using mud as a symbol of the original creation of man from the “dust of the earth” (Genesis 2:7). This might account for the possible reference to creation made by those who witnessed the miracle recorded in John: “Never since the world began has it been heard that anyone opened the eyes of a man born blind” (John 9:32 ESV).  But this may be no more than an expression (Acts 3:21, etc.), and the idea does not explain the use of saliva alone in the two accounts that do not mention mud. 

Another explanation is that just as he rejected human religious traditions in other cases, Jesus used mud in direct contradiction of Jewish traditions that prohibited healing on the Sabbath by mixing mud with spittle. This idea is based on the fact that the Mishnah specifically states  “To heal a blind man on the Sabbath it is prohibited to inject wine in his eyes. It is also prohibited to make mud with spittle and smear it on his eyes” (Shabbat 108:20), but apart from the fact that, again, only one of the three recorded miracles involved making mud, the Mishnah dates to after the time of Jesus.  It is even possible that the prohibition against healing with mud and spittle came about as a result of Christ’s miracle.

A better understanding of these miracles is gained by considering the evidence we find in the Book of  John.  It is important to remember that John’s Gospel does not simply follow the pattern of the other three Gospels which were written much earlier. Instead, John – who doubtless had seen the other Gospels – went to lengths to supplement their accounts with additional information that he remembered, but which the other Gospels did not include.

Keeping this in mind, it is important to note the context of John’s account. In John chapter 8 the apostle carefully records an extended argument between Jesus and the Jews who opposed him.  Throughout this account we see that Jesus repeatedly stressed his Sonship and relationship with the Father: “Then they asked him, “Where is your father?” “You do not know me or my Father,” Jesus replied. “If you knew me, you would know my Father also”( John 8:19),  “They did not understand that he was telling them about his Father” (John 8:27, etc.).  At one point in this chapter the Jews even made a thinly veiled accusation against Jesus “…We are not illegitimate children…” (John 8:41), and Jesus’ response was to stress, once again, his true Sonship: “… If God were your Father, you would love me, for I have come here from God. I have not come on my own; God sent me … My Father, whom you claim as your God, is the one who glorifies me” (John 8:42, 54).

Now, getting back to the mud and spit miracles, we should note that saliva was widely believed to have healing properties in the ancient world. For example, the classical writers Celsus, Galen, and Pliny all mention its medicinal properties – especially the saliva of distinguished persons – and it is even said that the Emperor Vespasian was urged to spit in the eyes of a blind man in order to heal him.  So it is perhaps not surprising that the Jews of the First Century seem to have had a tradition that the saliva of a legitimate, firstborn heir could have healing properties against several infirmities – including blindness (Talmud, Bava Batra 126b).

So given the widespread beliefs in its medicinal properties, it is possible that Jesus used saliva in some of his healings as a physical sign that he was healing the person involved.  But the background  of  Jesus’ legitimacy and Sonship found throughout John chapter 8 suggests that it was this issue that was the specific context for the healing in John 9 – and perhaps the other, related situations.  By using saliva in these healings, Jesus demonstrated not only his ability to perform miracles, but also that he was indeed a legitimate and firstborn son – the Firstborn Son of God.

​The Book of John tells two stories, back to back, of encounters between Jesus and individuals who came to him  alone.  Rather than being part of the crowds that thronged Jesus daily, these individuals talked with him privately. One sought him out in the dark of night and the other was approached by him under the blazing sun at noon.  The two individuals were the priest Nicodemus and the Samaritan woman Jesus met at the well. The two stories, told in conjunction by John, clearly contrast in a number of ways, but also share something in common.

Nicodemus, a prominent Pharisee and ultra-righteous member of the Jewish Sanhedrin, came to Jesus, John tells us, “by night” (John 3:1-21) in order to question him about his teachings.  Nicodemus was part of the religious establishment of the time, and he clearly went to Jesus under the cover of darkness so as not to be seen and recognized. John’s record of the conversation between Jesus and the Pharisee shows us that Nicodemus  was beginning to believe the truth, but he held back because of the opinions of his friends and colleagues. 

The Samaritan woman Jesus met at the well outside the city of Sychar in Samaria came to draw water around noon (John 4:4-42), which was the hottest time of day when the fewest people would be at the well. It is unlikely that anyone would purposely plan a trip to the well at that time unless they wanted to avoid people.  But, as someone doubtless shunned or shamed by her neighbors because of her sexual relations with a number of men, the Samaritan woman had good reason to go to the well at a time when she would not meet others. She doubtless went then because of her discomfort with her neighbors’ opinion of her.

The two individuals were worlds apart.  Nicodemus was a respected member of the privileged religious elite in the Judean capital of Jerusalem; the Samaritan woman was a shamed individual from a despised culture in a rustic backwater of the country. Spiritually, Nicodemus may have needed help to see his sin and the Samaritan woman may have needed help to see her worth,  but both individuals shared something in common – they both evidently feared the opinions of others and sought to avoid those who might look down on them.

It is unlikely that John juxtaposed his accounts of these individuals in the way he did without intending his readers to see the connection of fear implied in both stories. Whatever our background, whatever our own perception of our standing before God, we may adjust our behavior in order to cope with our inherent human fear of the opinions of others.  But after meeting with the one they came to see was probably the Messiah, both individuals found the courage to act without shame and without cover.
 
Nicodemus later spoke with courage to remind his colleagues in the Sanhedrin that a person should be heard before being judged (John 7:50–51), and then, after the crucifixion, he helped to prepare the body of the reviled and executed Jesus for burial (John 19:39–42).  In the same way, after meeting Jesus, the Samaritan woman – if she had been avoiding her neighbors – now found the courage to tell them all about the one she had met who was the Christ.

We may not be like Nicodemus or like the Samaritan woman. Perhaps our lives are being lived out somewhere between those of the two individuals, the saint and the serial sinner.  But like them, if we have met with Jesus in our lives, we will be strengthened to live above the opinions of others when it comes to living out the truth.

Then Pilate took Jesus and had him flogged. The soldiers twisted together a crown of thorns and put it on his head. They clothed him in a purple robe  and went up to him again and again, saying,  “Hail, king of the Jews!” And they slapped him in the face (John 19:1-3).

In these words, John summarizes the beginnings of the crucifixion of Jesus. Matthew, in his Gospel, adds the detail that the Roman soldiers also put a staff in his right hand (Matthew 27:29), which clearly imitated the emperor’s scepter, just as the purple robe and crown of thorns also imitated the emperor’s other attributes.  

The mockery of the soldiers is clear. Charged as “King of the Jews” (Matthew 27:37), and hence as someone attempting to take the place of the emperor, the imperial attributes of robe, scepter and crown were intended as a cruel, insulting joke.  But the mocking soldiers were doubtless unaware of how richly symbolic their parody actually was.   The crown of thorns given to Jesus was  doubtless intended as a parody of the Roman Civic Crown  given to military heroes. Like the crown of thorns, the Roman Civic Crown (Latin: corona civica) was formed of plant material: of leaves of the oak tree woven into a circle.  But the Civic Crown was granted only to  Roman citizens who saved the lives of other citizens.  So high was the honor of this crown that it became part of the  imperial regalia and was worn by all the emperors from the time of Augustus, and the emperors themselves were often hailed as the  “Savior” of the people.

Ironic or not, the richness of the symbolism that God allowed in the crown of thorns also finds much earlier foreshadowing in the Bible itself.  Not only does the biblical story of humanity’s “fall” tell us that as a result of sin the earth would produce “thorns and thistles” (Genesis 3:17-19), but also the crown of thorns is more specifically foreshadowed in the story of Abraham’s sacrifice of his son, Isaac. Genesis 22:13 tells us that the sacrifice of Isaac was transferred to the sacrifice of the male sheep God provided, that was caught by its horns in a “thicket.”  The Hebrew word used for thicket is sebak, derived from a word meaning to entwine in the sense of interwoven branches.  This was perhaps the Palestine Buckthorn (Rhamnus lycioides or Rhamnus palaestinus), a bush or small thorn tree which grows on hillsides in much of Israel.  Its botanical name Rhamnus refers to its intertwined, prickly branches.  The ram “caught by the horns” in such a tree was thus essentially a sacrificial sheep with thorns intertwined around its head, and the ram became a substitutionary sacrifice for Isaac, just as Jesus became a substitutionary sacrifice for everyone. 

So the crown of thorns given to the Messiah and intended as a cruel parody to mock him was, in fact, a fitting symbol for the One who took upon himself the thorny result of our human sin, who willingly acted as a substitutionary sacrifice for all, and whose bravery infinitely eclipsed that of heroes who may have saved others (Romans 5:7). It may have been intended as a parody, but no one else ever qualified to receive such an exalted crown as the one made of thorns worn by Jesus.

The Gospel of John records the healing by Jesus, at the Pool of Bethesda, of a man paralyzed for many years.  The account is a moving one and provides some interesting questions.  There were many sick people at the pool that day – why did Jesus single out this particular individual for the healing? And why did Jesus ask the man a question which we would normally never ask a sick or paralyzed person: "Do you want to be well?"    
   The answers to these questions may throw additional light on the story of the healing - and they are answers that apply to all of us.  See our new article, uploaded today: "Do You Want to Be Well?"  

“The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. He makes me lie down in green pastures. He leads me beside still waters... Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,  I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff,  they comfort me…” (Psalm 23:1-4).


It’s hard for modern Christians not to think of Psalm 23 when the word “shepherd” comes to mind.  But that beautiful psalm reflects only some of the aspects of shepherding. Leading the sheep to pasture – providing for them – and through the valley of darkness – protecting them – are certainly vital aspects of the job, but as a shepherd himself David knew that there was more to the job than just feeding and protecting the sheep.

We find additional insights into the role of the shepherd in another of David’s psalms: “Save your people and bless your inheritance; be their shepherd and carry them forever” (Psalm 28:9). In the first half of this single verse we see the same aspects of protecting the sheep and providing for them, and in the second half David also mentions guiding the sheep (the Hebrew urom is a verb – to shepherd or guide, not to be a shepherd) and carrying them.

In this short but remarkable verse, David captures perhaps all the major aspects of the shepherd’s role in four verbs: To protect the sheep from death, to supply their needs, to guide them and finally to carry them when they are weak or injured and need the shepherd’s strength in addition to their own.   

This picture meshes well with Christ’s role as shepherd, which we see in the prophecy quoted by Matthew: “But you, Bethlehem, in the land of Judah … out of you will come a ruler who will shepherd my people Israel” (Matthew 2:6).  Jesus himself elaborated on the same four aspects of that role mentioned by David in Psalm 28.  As the prophesied shepherd,  Christ did all these things for his people:

Protected them from eternal death: “I am the good shepherd. The good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep” (John 10:11).

Provided their needs: “I am the gate for the sheep… whoever enters through me will be saved. They will come in and go out, and find pasture” (John 10:7-9).

Guided them: “When Jesus … saw a large crowd, he had compassion on them, because they were like sheep without a shepherd. So he began teaching them many things” (Mark 6:34).

Carried them: “Suppose one of you has a hundred sheep and loses one of them. Doesn’t he… go after the lost sheep until he finds it? And when he finds it, he joyfully puts it on his shoulders and goes home” (Luke 15:4-6).

The people of ancient Israel in David’s day, and those of Judea in Christ’s day, knew well that these things were all involved in being a shepherd. That’s why Christ used that analogy often, and why his hearers may have understood more fully  than we sometimes do what it means that the Lord is our shepherd. They knew, as we should come to know also, that the flock need never doubt that the Shepherd will always do these things for the sheep. It’s what shepherds do.

*See the article “A Shepherd for a While” on our sister site.

The sixth chapter of John records the miracle of the feeding of the 5000 in which a great crowd that was following Jesus was fed by a mere five loaves and two fishes as a sign:



“Jesus then took the loaves, gave thanks, and distributed to those who were seated as much as they wanted. He did the same with the fish.  When they had all had enough to eat, he said to his disciples, “Gather the pieces that are left over. Let nothing be wasted.” So they gathered them and filled twelve baskets with the pieces of the five barley loaves left over by those who had eaten” (John 6:5-13 emphasis added).

In reading the story of this miracle we tend to only notice the fact that after the feeding of the 5,000 the disciples took up far more food than they started with. But notice also that Christ’s instructions to gather up the remaining pieces of bread included the careful instruction “let nothing be wasted” or, as we might say today “don’t lose any!”  Clearly, there was no shortage of food, so the command not to lose any of the crumbs must have had another reason behind it.

The narrative then proceeds with Jesus moving from the area to avoid the crowds and the storm on the Sea of Galilee,  and in reading we tend to not connect the next part of the story. But the narrative is clearly connected. The first thing we see Jesus doing once he arrived at his destination was to begin to teach the people a lesson based on what they had seen.

“Jesus said to them, ‘I am the bread of life; whoever comes to me shall not hunger, and whoever believes in me shall never thirst... All that the Father gives me will come to me, and whoever comes to me I will never cast out… And this is the will of him who sent me, that I should lose nothing of all that he has given me, but raise it up on the last day”  (John 6:35-39 emphasis added).

The disciples had doubtless not forgotten the feeding of the 5,000 – or how much work was involved in picking up twelve baskets of leftover bread pieces and crumbs – so there is no doubt that the connection between the miracle and  the lesson was understood by them even if they did not comprehend its full significance at that time.  But the miracle was not only a sign of Jesus’ messianic identity (6:14), it was also a living lesson in God's intent in working with His human family.  First, Christ stressed that he is the Bread of life and that those in him become, as it were, pieces or crumbs  of that same bread.  But while Jesus could  have just verbally stressed the lesson “… your Father in heaven is not willing that any of these little ones should perish” (Matthew 18:14), the point was apparently important enough that he used the opportunity to drive it home by means of a miracle.

We may know intellectually that our Father is not willing that anyone be lost, but in our times of failure or discouragement we should remember the extent to which Christ made that point for us to clearly see.  We can be sure that if we had picked up twelve bushel baskets of bread crumbs it is a lesson we doubtless would not have forgetten.

“As Jesus and his disciples were on their way, he came to a village where a woman named Martha opened her home to him. She had a sister called Mary, who sat at the Lord’s feet listening to what he said. But Martha was distracted by all the preparations that had to be made. She came to him and asked, ‘Lord, don’t you care that my sister has left me to do the work by myself? Tell her to help me!’  ‘Martha, Martha,’ the Lord answered, ‘you are worried and upset about many things, but few things are needed—or indeed only one. Mary has chosen what is better, and it will not be taken away from her’ (Luke 10:38-42).

The story shows two sisters with very different personalities.  Martha was clearly the older sister:  she is the one who invited Jesus into their home; she says Mary should be helping her; she seems very much like an older sister – bearing most of the responsibilities and being a more serious person as a result.

Mary gets most of the accolades, doubtless because of Jesus’ words in Luke 10.  The younger sister was clearly totally devoted to Jesus and “hung on his every word” (vs.39).  Jesus said of her that she had “chosen what is better” in that circumstance (vs. 42) and clearly approved her desire to focus on his words even if at the expense of physical preparations which could, perhaps, have waited.  It was apparently Mary, too, [an upcoming blog will show this] who took expensive perfume and anointed Jesus (John 11:2, John 12:1-3).  Clearly, Mary was a woman of faith and deep devotion.

But where does this leave Martha, the serious and perhaps too often busy older sister?  It is easy to dwell on Mary’s devotion and to miss Martha’s own personal faith which is nowhere clearer than in the story of Jesus raising their brother, Lazarus, from the dead.  Notice the story in the Gospel of John, who tells us that Jesus, hearing Lazarus had been buried for four days, proceeded to the home of Martha and Mary:

“When Martha heard that Jesus was coming, she went out to meet him, but Mary stayed at home.  ‘Lord,’ Martha said to Jesus, ‘if you had been here, my brother would not have died. But I know that even now God will give you whatever you ask.’  Jesus said to her, ‘Your brother will rise again.’  Martha answered, ‘I know he will rise again in the resurrection at the last day.’  Jesus said to her, ‘I am the resurrection and the life. The one who believes in me will live, even though they die; and whoever lives by believing in me will never die. Do you believe this?’  ‘Yes, Lord,’ she replied, ‘I believe that you are the Messiah, the Son of God, who is to come into the world’” (John 11:20-27).

This is one of the most profound acknowledgements of faith that Jesus encountered in His ministry and shows a side of Martha we should not forget.  Although we may type her as the older sister, busy in her responsibilities, it was Martha who went out to meet Jesus – who sought him out and asked His help at a time when all others – even apparently Mary herself – were consumed in their grief.  Martha does not appear to have been Mary’s subordinate in the faith – both women were dedicated to Jesus, just in different ways; and both were women of exceptional understanding and faith.

Luke 24 tells the story, set shortly after the death of Jesus,  of the two disciples walking on the road to the village of Emmaus several miles from Jerusalem.  As they walked they were joined by a third individual (Luke 24:15-16).  The stranger asked them what they were talking about and they replied:  “About Jesus of Nazareth  …. He was a prophet, powerful in word and deed before God and all the people.  The chief priests and our rulers handed him over to be sentenced to death, and they crucified him;  but we had hoped that he was the one who was going to redeem Israel...” (Luke 24:19-21).

The stranger joined the conversation and the three individuals talked until they came to Emmaus.  Once there the two disciples urged the stranger to stay the evening with them and join their meal. So, Luke tells us the stranger accepted and:

“When he was at the table with them, he took bread, gave thanks, broke it and began to give it to them.  Then their eyes were opened and they recognized him, and he disappeared from their sight” (Luke 24:31-32).

Reading the story from our perspective, with hindsight, we realize immediately that the stranger was, of course, Jesus, but something that we often neglect to think much about in this story is the fact that the two disciples were unaware that the One of whom they spoke was in fact the person with whom they spoke.  The two disciples had actually been talking about the person who was with them.  If that had happened to us, that we discovered someone we talked about had been the person involved – would we have wondered afterwards what we had said, wondered about any negative or critical things that might have been part of our conversation?

If we believe the simple Christian truth that Christ lives His life in each called and committed individual, does the principle not apply that whenever we talk to a fellow believer – or about a fellow believer – we are talking with Christ whether we realize it or not?  It is the principle behind the related situation Jesus described in saying “For where two or three gather in my name, there am I with them” (Matthew 18:20). It is something to remember.  In that small way, we are all walking the road to Emmaus.

The news is currently full of reports that the small papyrus fragment which is purported to show that Jesus had a wife has now been shown by Carbon 14 dating to be “ancient.”  Does this prove that Jesus had a wife?

Announced at a 2012 conference in Rome by Harvard Divinity School's Karen King, and dubbed the "Gospel of Jesus's Wife," the fragment has now been studied by a number of experts.  The carbon dating conducted at Harvard and MIT on the fragment (3.2 inches wide by 1.6 inches tall - 8 by 4 centimeters) returned dates between AD  659 and 869.  The fragment had earlier been estimated to be “fourth century,” but it is now clear that it is much more recent – probably dating to some 700-800 years after the time of Christ.

By the time this fragment was written, many spurious ideas and speculations had circulated in Christianity; and the “gospel” from which the fragment apparently came may have exhibited many differences from the canonical gospels.  

Not all scholars are convinced that the text is even genuine.  Professor Leo Depuydt of Brown University has stated that he feels the text is full of grammatical errors and other problems that suggest the writing may have been faked on a piece of ancient papyrus.  But even if the writing on the fragment is authentic, its late date means that it really proves nothing regarding the life of the historical Jesus.  

Further,  the words "Jesus said to them, 'My wife . . . she is able to be my disciple . . .'" which are found on the papyrus may have been intended to be understood figuratively rather than literally.  Jesus used similar analogies (John 3:29), and the New Testament  speaks of the church being the “Bride of Christ” on several occasions.  In 2 Corinthians 11:2 the apostle Paul states “… For I have espoused you to one husband, that I may present [you as] a chaste virgin to Christ.” And in the Book of Revelation we find verses such as “I will show you the bride, the Lamb's wife” (Revelation 21:9).

So, despite the sensationalism associated with the recent studies, and the desire of some to see a “Da Vinci Code” type of hidden truth in a single scrap of papyrus, the fragment of text really gives us no evidence to affect our understanding of the gospel accounts of the life of Jesus, and certainly does not prove that Jesus had a wife.

Unlike Jesus’ first miracle when he changed many large jars of water into wine  or the succeeding miracles and signs he performed before His followers, His last miracle may seem small by comparison, yet is just as indicative of His nature as any of the acts of compassion carried out during his ministry.  In some ways, this small miracle may show His nature even more than the others.

All the Gospels describe the arrest of Jesus in the Garden of Gethsemane before his crucifixion and all of them  describe the fact that in the tense moments of the arrest one of Jesus’ followers drew a sword and struck out, severing the ear of a man named Malchus, a servant of the high priest.  John’s Gospel  reveals that it was the impetuous Peter who did this, and who was stopped by Jesus (John 18:10).  It is unlikely that Peter was aiming at the servant’s ear, and the injury was probably sustained when Peter swung  with the sword at the man’s head and Malchus ducked – narrowly avoiding death, but sustaining the loss or partial loss of his ear.

It would not be surprising if this non-life-threatening injury had been ignored in the turmoil that must have accompanied Jesus’ arrest, but Luke adds a detail in this regard which none of the other gospel writers has.  Luke tells us that Jesus “…touched the man’s ear and healed him” (Luke 22:51).  

We must see this miracle in context. Jesus knew the terrible death that awaited him and had only just finished the agonizing prayer in which his sweat was “like drops of blood” (Luke 22:44).  When the soldiers and officers of the high priest came upon Him in the dark and tumult of the arrest, Jesus’ mind must have been full of what was happening and what was about to happen to him.  Humanly, anyone in this situation would hardly be thinking about one of the arresting group hurt in the tumult. 

Yet the mind of Christ was such that even within that dark and emotionally swirling night, despite the shouting, running and confusion that clearly ensued, Jesus noticed the one who had been injured, focused on that and sought the man out, using His last miracle to help an enemy before he chose to forgo any further use of the divine power at His disposal in order to endure the things He knew He must suffer. 

The many miracles and signs wrought by Jesus during his human ministry showed his compassion and care for others, but these were done in times of relative quiet and security.  In Jesus’ last miracle, even as He was led away to His death, He still showed the love that placed His own needs, His own self, not first, but last.