“And as Jesus passed by, he saw a man which was blind from his birth. And his disciples asked him, saying, Master, who did sin, this man, or his parents, that he was born blind? Jesus answered, Neither hath this man sinned, nor his parents: but that the works of God should be made manifest in him.”
(John 9:1-3)
The disciples look at a man born blind and want a neat explanation. Someone must be to blame. Either this man sinned, or his parents sinned. Their thinking seems logical but is completely wrong in assumption. And Jesus shatters it with one sentence: this happened “that the works of God should be made manifest in him.” That man’s entire life of darkness was about a moment when God would show what only God can do.
The old writers called it “extraordinary providence”—the way God provides for His creatures by skipping over, or even inverting, the normal order of things. Wheels, within wheels, within wheels, of God’s providence; God ordering all things. Think of the examples in Scripture: the sun standing still, the sun going backward, a man born blind receiving sight, a virgin conceiving, a corpse raised to life, and diseases healed with a word.
There are strange things in nature we don’t understand, hidden causes we cannot trace, but that doesn’t make them miracles. A miracle is when God oversteps the ordinary chain of causes to demonstrate the reality of the Gospel as it was in the days of the apostles, or Elijah or Moses, referred to as working “per saltum”—all at once, in a leap.
Normally, we plow, plant, water, wait. Bread comes at the end of a slow process. But in the feeding of the thousands, Jesus takes a few loaves and multiplies them in a moment. He doesn’t create new matter out of nowhere; He takes existing matter and moves it forward instantly through all the stages that would have taken months. He cuts out the whole middle.[1]
God alone is the Author and Efficient Cause of every true miracle. Men may be the visible faces beside the miracle—Peter at the Beautiful Gate, Elijah calling down fire—but they refuse the credit. Because whenever a true miracle occurs, it is God alone at work.
Miracles demonstrate divine omnipotence. They also act as signs tied to specific purposes. Sometimes they ratify God’s promises. Sometimes they expose apostasy. Sometimes they confirm doctrine and bear witness that a message is from heaven—like the miracles of Christ and His apostles.
Miracles are not for now because the gospel has already been publicly confirmed, but that doesn’t mean God is limited. He has endless reserves of special providences. He may use ordinary means we didn’t see coming. He may surprise in some unusual way. Either way, His faithfulness hasn’t faded, and His power hasn’t waned with time.
So when you stand before your own “man born blind”—that impossibility in your life where nothing in the natural course can fix it—don’t throw away your confidence when every visible spring dries up. Trust that the works of God can be shown there. Either He has a means you don’t see yet, or He will provide some other way to glorify Himself in and through this providence.
Contemplations:
- Learning to see beyond second causes. I realize how often my faith collapses as soon as I can’t see a natural solution. When the numbers don’t add up, when doors close, when people can’t help, I quietly assume there’s no hope left. But God works beyond second causes. He isn’t chained to the usual steps. I need to learn to look at “impossible” situations and remind my own heart that the Lord isn’t confined to what I can forecast or plan.
- Trusting when God skips the steps. I like process and predictability. Part of me wants God to always work through slow, understandable means. But in Scripture He sometimes steps right over the expected order. Bread multiplies, blind eyes open, and graves empty. I’m challenged by these examples to trust His wisdom even when He interrupts my sense of how things “should” go. I want to be thankful when He uses ordinary means, and also be ready if He chooses to work in ways that surprise me.
- Facing Satan’s fake wonders. I’m sobered by the idea of “lying wonders.” I know my senses can be fooled, my emotions stirred, my mind dazzled, and yet none of it be from God. That pushes me back to Scripture. I need to cling to what God has actually said, not just what feels impressive. Real miracles point to His truth, His gospel, and His Son. I want my heart to be more interested in that than in anything flashy or sensational that draws attention away from Christ.
- Trusting God when springs dry up. It’s one thing to talk about trusting God when everything in my life is good. But when God lets usual supports vanish, I need to remember that He isn’t abandoning me. He’s teaching me to lean on His character more than I lean on visible supply. I want to learn how to rejoice in Him even when my fig tree doesn’t blossom, believing He either has unseen means or a better purpose than I can grasp right now.
Prayer (Supplication)
Lord God, I come asking for help because I know how small my faith is when I consider impossible things. I see the man born blind in John 9, and I hear Your Son say that his condition was so that the works of God might be shown in him. I’m used to thinking in simple cause and effect: someone messed up, something went wrong. But You speak of Your purposes, Your glory, Your works. I need You to reshape how I think about trouble, weakness, and impossibility.
Teach me what a true miracle is, not just in theory, but in how I trust You. You are not bound by the slow steps of nature. You can jump over the whole chain of causes if You please. I ask that You keep my heart from shrinking You down to the size of what I can imagine. Guard me from treating You like a slightly bigger version of myself instead of the God who speaks worlds into being.
Help me rest in the fact that You alone are the Author of every true miracle. And keep me from being taken in by lying wonders, by anything that wears a spiritual mask but pulls my faith away from Your Word. Let the miracles recorded in Scripture be enough to anchor me—to convince me of Your power, Your faithfulness, and Your commitment to Your promises.
Lord, I especially ask for grace to trust You when second causes fail. When the budget collapses, when health declines, when support disappears, when every normal avenue shuts down, don’t let my soul slip into despair. Remind me that You still have countless ways to provide, ways I’ve never considered. If You choose to help me through ordinary means, make me grateful. If You choose some unusual way, keep me humble. And if You choose to let the hardship remain while You give me strength to endure it, give me a heart that still calls You good.
Let my confidence be grounded in who You are, not in what I can see. Your faithfulness is forever. Your power does not weaken. Your storehouses do not run empty. When my circumstances scream that nothing more can be done, whisper to my heart that You are not finished, that Your purposes are larger than my sight, and that Your care for Your people has not changed.
I ask You, Lord, to make me someone who can look at a “man born blind” kind of situation in my own life and say, quietly but honestly, “The works of God can be shown here too.” Help me believe that. And help me live like it’s true.
In Jesus’ name I pray, Amen.
Further Scripture References for John 9:1-3:
Exod. 20:5; Luke 13:2; Acts 28:4; Job 21:19
[1] Samuel Willard, A Compleat Body of Divinity, (Boston in New-England: B. Green and S. Kneeland for B. Eliot and D. Henchman, and sold at their shops, 1726), 138.
