Holy Spit

Have you ever heard of the term “here’s spit in your eye?” I wonder if this originated from the time when Jesus spit into the dirt and made mud, placing it on the blind man’s eyes. Sometimes you just wish the Bible gave you more details as to why. Why did Jesus use His spit to make mud to wipe on the guy’s eyes? There are many other accounts where a simple touch or word from Jesus is all it took for healing. In one account, a woman simply touched His garment, and was healed.

So what was the purpose of the “holy mud,” the “divine dirt,” the “spiritual spittle?” Could it be that Jesus knew 2,000 years later we would use the same technique with slices of cucumbers over our eyes? Probably not.

So the mud was a little weird, but then comes even more confusion. Jesus asked the man to walk a distance to the Pool of Siloam to wash the mud off of his eyes. Was this really necessary…making the man walk to the pool, everyone staring, bumping into walls…just to wash his face? Probably not in the grand scheme of healing, but perhaps in the grand scheme of teaching.

I suppose in that moment Jesus was asking the man to put his faith into action. Perhaps Jesus knew that simply touching the man’s eyes would not give him the intimacy with his Savior that Jesus so desperately longed for him to have. Jesus knew in order for this man to fully come to know and trust his Savior, that action faith was needed as part of his healing.

Let’s revisit the woman who was healed by a mere touch of Jesus’ garment. Maybe the woman’s faith with the bleeding disorder only required the touch of the Master’s garment for healing. When she first heard of this man, she thought, “If I just touch his clothes, I will be healed.” Did it sound like there was any doubt in her mind? Jesus tells her that “her faith has healed her.” I love her faith. I long for her faith.

Perhaps in order for me to achieve the level of faith and intimacy with Him, Jesus is asking me to go through this trial in my life. People ask me if I would forgo the pain and uncertainty of this aneurysm to rewind my faith to a month ago. No…absolutely not. I can tell you that I would not trade a thing for the level of love I have for my Daddy today. I would rather die knowing the love my Daddy has for me, than to live oblivious to the depth of His love.

I am going through a time of discipline. Not punishment, but discipline. Refinement comes from discipline. Purity comes from discipline. God knows His children. He loves His children. Like an athlete in training is well aware, discipline is the key to great things. It takes hard work, sacrifice and surrender to be disciplined. I do not feel I am being spanked by the Cosmic Principle but instead being loved by a Father who wants a deeper relationship with His child.

Honestly, there was a time when this story of the holy mud grossed me out. I’m quite positive that Jesus’ breath didn’t smell minty fresh…and mixed with mud didn’t help for crying out loud. Just a stab in the dark, but I wonder if Jesus used two symbols of things that we perceive as unclean to further show His holiness.

What area of your life do you need spiritual spittle from the Great Physician? Your marriage? Your career? Your health? How about your life, in general? Receive healing. Believe as the bleeding woman believed. Believe with the faith of a child. A child doesn’t realize that he can’t be a super hero, and he doesn’t believe that God has limits. Children serve a limitless God. Why don’t we?

Today, I long for holy mud on my face. Spit often, Jesus.