Making Sense of Our Nonsense: Finding Jesus in Life's Struggles

Blog post from the sermon: “Jesus Makes Sense of Our Nonsense”

Life rarely unfolds the way we expect. We craft narratives, build dreams, and try desperately to make sense of the chaos swirling around us. In a room of 160 people, there are 160 different stories unfolding, 160 different interpretations of reality, each person trying to answer the fundamental question: Why?

Why did this happen to me? Whose fault is it? What does it all mean?

These are the questions that haunt us in the quiet moments, the ones we bring to church hoping for answers that finally make our lives make sense.

The Wrong Question

In John chapter 9, we encounter a man who had been blind from birth. The disciples, walking past this familiar beggar near the temple courts in Jerusalem, posed what seemed like a logical question: "Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?"

It's the question we all ask in different forms. When tragedy strikes, when illness comes, when dreams shatter, we immediately begin the blame game. We search for cause and effect, trying to fit our pain into a framework that makes rational sense.

The disciples offered two options: the man's sin or his parents' sin. But Jesus did something remarkable. He rejected their entire framework.

"Neither this man nor his parents sinned," Jesus replied, "but this happened so that the works of God might be displayed in him."

Pause and let that sink in.

This man lived forty years in darkness - unable to work, forced to beg, socially marginalized, experiencing a daily existence most of us cannot fathom - all so that on one specific day, the Messiah would heal him and reveal His glory.

A Different Paradigm

Our minds rebel against this. We live in a world obsessed with fairness, with immediate gratification, with lives that make sense according to our limited perspective. We want our stories to resolve on our timeline, according to our expectations.

But Psalm 139 reminds us that all our days are ordained before any of them came to be. The events of our lives, even the painful, confusing, seemingly senseless ones, are part of a narrative far grander than we can imagine.

Romans 8:28 promises that God works all things together for good for those who love Him. Not some things. Not just the pleasant things. All things.

The blind man's story wasn't primarily about him. It was about Jesus. And here's where our egos take a necessary hit: our stories aren't primarily about us either. Our lives are about a season of grace in Jesus Christ, to be known by Him, and to be held close and brought home to heaven.

The Uncomfortable Miracle

Jesus could have healed this man with a word. He'd done it before. Instead, He spit on the ground, made mud, smeared it on the man's eyes, and told him to walk to the Pool of Siloam to wash.

Why such an odd, uncomfortable method?

Jesus wasn't just healing one man in private. He was forcing an entire community to wrestle with who He was. The healing happened on the Sabbath. The method violated the religious leaders' interpretations of Sabbath law. The location (the Pool of Siloam) known for its supposed healing properties would force everyone to acknowledge that this wasn't the water that healed, but the Word of Christ.

Jesus made this miracle a pebble in everyone's shoe, a burr under their saddle. He forced them to struggle.

The Gift of Struggle

We don't like struggle. We avoid it, medicate it, distract ourselves from it. But spiritual truth must first offend before we learn to embrace it.

The religious leaders struggled. Some said, "This man cannot be from God - He breaks the Sabbath!" Others countered, "How can a sinner perform such signs?" The community was divided.

They interrogated the formerly blind man repeatedly. They brought in his parents, who were too afraid of being excommunicated to give a clear answer. They demanded explanations, looking for some way to dismiss what had obviously happened.

The man himself grew bolder under pressure. When they asked him again to explain, he replied with sarcasm: "I already told you. Do you want to become His disciples too?"

Enraged, they threw him out.

But Jesus wasn't finished.

The Face Worth Waiting For

Jesus heard they had expelled the man. And He went looking for him.

Think about this: the man had been blind his entire life. He had never seen a human face. In his first days of sight, he was seeing people for the very first time and then he was cast out, rejected, alone.

And Jesus found him.

"Do you believe in the Son of Man?" Jesus asked.

The Son of Man, the title from Daniel's prophecy, the one who would stand before the Ancient of Days and be given authority over all creation, the one who would judge all people.

"Who is He, sir?" the man asked. "Tell me so that I may believe in Him."

Jesus replied, "You have now seen Him. He is the one speaking with you."

Can you imagine? This man, blind for forty years, gets to see Jesus Christ with his own eyes in his first week of sight. A gift almost no human being would ever receive!

"Lord, I believe," the man said. And he worshiped Him.

Faith Is Not Something We Create

Faith is a work of the Holy Spirit. We don't manufacture it through clever reasoning or force of will. God creates it in us.

He grabs us by the spiritual throat, looks us in the eye, and says, "I see your soul. I see your guilt, your shame, your sin, and I came to take it all away and wash you clean. I am the Son of Man and the Son of God, and I will be the sacrifice for your sins. You're going to be fine because of Me."

The Cross Changes Everything

A few weeks after this healing, Jesus returned to Jerusalem. The man who could now see likely witnessed from a distance as the One who healed him was tortured and crucified on a cross.

And it all made more sense.

When Jesus is lifted up on the cross, grace covers all sins. The question of whose fault it is becomes irrelevant because He forgave it all. He rose from the dead to declare us free, and He built something entirely new on earth called the church.

Finding Jesus in Your Story

Most people approach spirituality like a "Where's Waldo?" puzzle - a chaotic mess of random events where you have to search desperately to find God somewhere hidden in the crowd.

But the Bible presents something entirely different: a beautiful display of prophecy and fulfillment, everything converging on the Christ who died and rose again to save every human being.

What was good for the blind man, for the woman at the well, for Nicodemus the religious leader, is good for you. The stories are displayed clearly to help us make sense of our nonsense.

So here's the question: Do you believe in the Son of Man? Do you believe He's the center of your story, that all these events - even the painful, confusing ones - are leading you back to Christ?

If you're struggling to believe, tell Him. Say, "I do believe, Lord. Help me with my unbelief."

He will not leave you blind spiritually. He loves you too much.

And perhaps what seems like senseless suffering today is actually preparation for the moment when you see His face and everything finally, beautifully makes sense.