“Who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?” This question marks the beginning of one of the longest stories in all of the Gospels. It is ordinary Sabbath day, much like any other, in Jerusalem, when Jesus and his disciples come upon a man born blind. Academically, they ask this question of Jesus, and inadvertently set off a series of events for the blind man. One that will take him from one questioner to another, eventually back to Jesus.

But it begins with a question and it is that question that is on my mind today. “Whose sin, this man or his parents caused him to be born blind?” Whose fault is it? Who’s to blame? What is the reason for his blindness? Why did this happen? Why? It’s the same question, just phrased a little differently each time, but each different form comes to our minds, it becomes less academic and a whole lot more familiar. Perhaps uncomfortably so. It’s no longer the disciples’ question. Suddenly, it’s ours. Why? Why did this happen to me? What did I do to deserve this? Why do I have cancer? Why did my mother die? Why did I lose my job? Why did my marriage fall apart?

Why? It seems when tragedy and turmoil come upon us in our lives, it’s the very first question on our lips. It’s a past looking question; it looks backwards. But it does not look fairly at our past life, no. It does not look at blessings. It does not look at successes. It does not look at accomplishments. It does not look for friends, for loves, for family. It looks instead only at mistakes, at failures, at sins, at regrets. It looks for enemies. It looks to lay blame.

Why is a dishonest question, because it’s not really about the cause at all. Often, the cause of the calamities of our lives is easily uncovered. Cancer? You smoked all your life. Lost job? The economy tanked, the result of mismanagement by government and business together. But now the insidiousness of the question comes to light. We’re not truly interested in why; we’re interested I whose fault is it. We’re looking for someone to blame. We’re looking for someone to hate, either someone else that we can focus our enmity upon or on ourselves to give us one more reason for self-abuse.

And it is for that reason, more than any other, that Jesus cares nothing for why. He doesn’t care about who is to blame, because he’s not interested in hate. Jesus is about love, he’s about faith, he is about hope. And those virtues manifest not in the question “why”, but rather in the question “what now?”

What now? Where do we go from here? What am I going to do? Jesus is very pragmatic. Tragedy comes, what are you going to do next? He immediately diverts the disciples “why” question onto this very idea. “It’s not about whose fault it is. This is an opportunity for God to show his glory.” And he reaches down and by his miraculous touch, heals the man of his blindness. Jesus knows the character of this man that he has just healed; He knows that he will give a living testimony of this very idea of “what now.” So, it is with a smile that he walks away, and leaves his disciples to witness what follows.

The once-blind man is then essentially dragged through a series of interrogations. How did this happen? Are you really the one who used to beg at the street corner? Yes, it’s me. Jesus healed me. Yes, it’s me. Jesus healed me. He’s very consistent with his answers, despite the fact that no one seems to get the point. The Pharisees even interrogate his parents, so unsatisfied with his answers.

But the disciples watching from afar, the same ones who would later put pen to paper that we would have the blind man’s tale, they do get it. The blind man gets it. I’m healed. I’ve received my sight and Jesus is the one who did it. Do you see what he’s doing? He’s evangelizing. He’s telling people the Gospel as he received it. I was blind and now I see. His “what now” is to tell everyone, even the Pharisees who scorn him, that Jesus has healed him.

We may not have so dramatic a turn-around as this man did when tragedy strikes us. But let us take a lesson from him about what it means to look forward, to ask “what now.”

And let us also understand that this is the very question that God asks. He’s not interested in why. He’s not interested in blame or fault. Certainly not interested in finding things to hate about us. He’s interested in what to do about the brokenness of our lives, about the brokenness of this world in which we live. As I said, he’s interested in love, faith, and hope. He’s interested in “what now.”

His answer to “what now” is to send Jesus into the world. His love shows in the miracles, the healing, and then ultimately the sacrifice on the cross. His faith comes through the promises that he offers, life eternal. Hope comes in knowing that this broken world will be set right, that every tear will dry up, thanks to what Jesus has done. God’s “what now” is his Son, living, dying, rising again.

So, take heart, my friends. When tragedy strikes, when life suddenly flips on its head, as it is so want to do, do not fear and do not ask why. That road leads only to hate and pain. Instead look forward. See the cross and the empty tomb and know that the promise is sure. Draw strength from them. For God has sent his Son for you, for all of us. And he will not abandon you to your fate. Our God is a god of love and he will see us through, whatever comes. Amen.