
What a blessed day! The air is warm while the ground is cool. The stones are smooth under my feet, and the dirt is not in the least muddy.
We must not be expecting rain anytime soon. I hear someone beating a rug – careful now, lest someone observe that act. This is Shabbat after all. I wonder what happened that required them to do that work this day.
Oh yes, and singing from the Temple. Such a joy fills my heart when I hear those psalms set to music!
Familiar voices chatter around me too, though as I approach they get quiet, then continue after I pass. Someone said good day to me. God bless them!
When I passed that last corner the wall was still cool. That gives some hope that my spot might also still be cool, before the midday heat.
The street is getting more crowded now. It’s getting harder to move around.
“You need a shepherd!” says a nearby voice. Perhaps the man I just bumped into.
Don’t I know it! A guide and care giver would be a great help. Yet none steps forward.
My neighbors keep talking about perceiving something so far from my own experience that I cannot begin to understand it. They speak of light, of color, of knowing what is in front of you without having to feel it. They say they know who is coming toward them without hearing a word or touching a face. Some even say they can tell what someone is thinking, even when that impression does not match the words which that person speaks. Could that be possible? Could I be missing so much of what they say is reality?
Then again, not all of their ‘reality’ is so fine. There are plenty of people out here who say nasty things, but far fewer who are helpful. Most gloat in their perceived superiority.
Oh, I should not be so harsh. My family and neighbors help me sometimes to get me here to the temple to beg. If there were anywhere on earth where the infirmed might seek help, would it not be here just outside the temple? Those who are close to God sometimes have pity on me. Every once in a while one of the caregivers of our people even provides some assistance. Of course God assigned them that duty, but often they are busy with their own business, or just trying to stay clean, or don’t want to be bothered with the lowly. So I sit here calling out to passersby, some of them give me some money to help me buy food and basic clothing.
Of course far more hurl insults and accusations than toss coins my way. And fewer still place coins in my hand so I don’t have to hunt for them in the dust. God is my provider.
Some taunt me by telling me what I am missing. The details they describe sound marvelous. It may be better that I cannot ever remember seeing than that I would have had sight and then lost it.
Either way I am an outcast here. I cannot attend any lessons. I cannot go in to the temple. I cannot be hired for any type of work. I am rarely welcomed as I pass by others. Why would God do this?
Of course there are some that try to explain to me why I am here, in this predicament. So many tales they tell. Some say I sinned shortly after my birth, and so was blinded. As far as I can tell, if everyone who sinned was blinded, none could see any of what they call light. Others say I sinned even before I was born, though I cannot understand how that could be. Yet others say my parents sinned before I was born. They were shunned too, following my birth, at least by our leaders and teachers.
Some make sport of me, seeming to intentionally put things in my way, quietly, to make me run into, or trip over, or kick, and then they laugh as I stumble while they run away. And then there are the false guides who offer to help me move from one place to another, yet lead me somewhere I had not intended to go and then leave me there, without knowing where I am or how to get back. What could I possibly do in those cases? Once I realize that they are making sport of me, it is often too late to return where I intended to be. I just have to play along and hope that some sound will be familiar enough for me to have an idea where I am. Most of the time, once they are gone, all I can do is call out for help and wait for a willing passerby to provide direction.
Oh Lord! Why are you so far from me? Don’t you care about me? Am I less loveable than all others?
I hear footsteps!
“Will you help me, a blind man?”
More laughter. Not even the honesty of a denial. It’s as if they are unwilling to admit their own unwillingness to help. They won’t say ‘no, I will not help you’. Instead they belittle me while their own hearts grow harder.
As far as I can tell, I have not yet received enough today to pay for even one meal. Perhaps I should give up my spirit, as some suggest, and join my fathers. What good am I? What use to anyone?
I hear another group coming from the direction of the temple! There are several men, talking as they walk.
“Will you help me, a blind man?”
“Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?”
Oh great! Another Rabbi teaching ‘lessons’ to his followers. Better that I had not even been here than to endure another one of these foolish lectures, even if they would provide some help, which is not likely.
“Neither this man nor his parents sinned, but this happened so that the works of God might be displayed in him. As long as it is day, we must do the works of him who sent me. Night is coming, when no one can work. While I am in the world, I am the light of the world.”
What was that? He says I am not blind because of my sin… But so the works of God might be displayed in me? That sounds like a cruel joke. And he talks about night, but then he claims to be the light of the world. That’s a light I cannot see either. I wonder what direction this unusual lesson will take. Will he accuse me for not working during the day? One of his followers called him Yeshua. I have heard of a healer named Yeshua! Could this be the same man?
What!? I heard someone spitting, but I do not feel any warm moisture dripping anywhere from me. And there is no laughter.
Someone is touching me! Smearing something on my eyes! Who does he think he is?!
“Go wash in the Pool of Siloam.” says the Rabbi.
Is this just another harassment? I did not need to wash until he smeared my eyes with what feels like some kind of mud. You bet I will go wash now!
I just need to find my way. Seems like the risks are higher than normal here. Are they making sport of me again? Careful now, watch your step. Oh, here are the stone tiles that surround the pool. From the smell I can tell that there are many here. Careful, move toward the sound and smell of water, but don’t trip over anyone, or anything.
“Can someone help me find the edge of the pool please? I am blind”
A hand takes my arm, a gentle hand…
“God bless you sir! Yes, I feel the water now. How far down is that first step?
“Oh, I feel it now. Thank you for your help.”
I have often heard of people washing here and being cured of illness, but I cannot tell when the waters stir, which is when they say the sick must be in the pool to be healed. Still, I want to get this mud washed off my face before it dries further.
What is this?! It’s as if something pierced my face when I splashed the water on the mud. I don’t feel any pain, but this is really unusual. I have the sense that things are moving, some more piercing than others…
I can SEE! I can see my hands! I see the water, and the surrounding stone structure that I could only feel just moments ago! I hear voices, and I see shapes moving in the direction of each of the voices.
I can see my legs moving through the water, and water drops falling as I step out of the pool!
Now, how can I get home? I have never seen the way. I had better feel along the path as I am used to doing so that I might know the way to go. Is that the spot, there, where I usually sit? I see a few coins in the dust, and a worn area where no one currently sits.
This is marvelous! So many different things to see – many things I have heard about but never understood before. This is not just light, but many different kinds of light. That rabbi said he was the light of the world. Did he give me this light?
I am getting so close to home now. What will my family say when they see me – and I see them?
I hear familiar voices. Which voice goes with which person?
“Isn’t this the same man who used to sit and beg?” said one.
Several voices gasp…
“Surely it is him!” says another.
“No, he only looks like him.” Says yet another.
“I am the man.” What else can I say?
“How then were your eyes opened?” another asks.
“The man they call Yeshua made some mud and put it on my eyes. He told me to go to Siloam and wash. So I went and washed, and then I could see.”
“Where is this man?” asks a voice filled with excitement.
“I don’t know.”
Where did the Rabbi go? He did not stay to see this moment, receive my thanks, and the applause of the crowd. Did he know that this would happen? Is this what he meant when he said that “the works of God would be displayed in me?”
“This is truly amazing! Come with us to see the Pharisees. Won’t they be surprised!”
“But I do not know the way” I said, realizing that truth even as I said it.
“We can show you the way.”
Now there’s a promise I would have liked to hear much more often before I could see.
“Surely they will still be in the temple, because today is the Sabbath.” Said another neighbor.
I have often heard these voices, but it will take a while for me to be able to match their voices with their faces.
That must be the temple up ahead. I have often heard it described, but it is even larger than I imagined.
I have never walked into this courtyard before…
Should I even be here now?
“Look who we brought with us today! Do you recognize him? He has been a beggar at the gates for many years now. He was blind from birth, but just look at him now. He can see!”
Such an introduction from a neighbor I could never expect!
“This is a wonder. Tell us, how did you receive your sight?” said a man in fine clothes.
“He put mud on my eyes, and I washed, and now I see.”
Now doesn’t that sound so simple. But who could believe it?
“This man is not from God, for he does not keep the Sabbath.” Said the man who greeted us.
“How can a sinner perform such signs?” asked another Pharisee?
Clearly they do not agree on this matter.
“What have you to say about him? It was your eyes he opened.” They ask me.
“He is a prophet” I hear myself say.
What an absurd question. Who else but a prophet has ever done such a thing?
“Bring his parents here.”
While that one hurries away the rest gather around and look me over. I have never seen eyes on me this way, though sometimes I felt the same thing.
What do they think my parents can tell them? I don’t think that they were anywhere nearby when this happened. Ah, here come some people now.
“Is this your son?” they ask. “Is this the one you say was born blind? How is it that now he can see?”
“We know he is our son, and we know he was born blind. But how he can see now, or who opened his eyes, we don’t know. Ask him. He is of age; he will speak for himself.”
They sound like my parents, but I have never seen them before. Such a response! Even now that I can see they still distance themselves from me. By the sound of their voices it would appear that they are afraid of these people.
“Give glory to God by telling the truth. We know this man is a sinner.”
What are these men thinking? How is it that they want me to answer?
“Whether he is a sinner or not, I don’t know. One thing I do know. I was blind but now I see!”
“What did he do to you? How did he open your eyes?”
How is it that I can so clearly see who he is, and they cannot?
“I have told you already and you did not listen. Why do you want to hear it again? Do you want to become his disciples too?”
“You looser! You worthless pathetic creature! You admit it! You are this fellow’s disciple! We are disciples of Moses! We know that God spoke to Moses, but as for this fellow, we don’t even know where he comes from.”
My neighbors thought they would be surprised by my sight. I confess I am surprised to see the way they are receiving this. It is almost as if they are choosing to not see the truth…
“Now that is remarkable! You don’t know where he comes from, yet he opened my eyes. We know that God does not listen to sinners. He listens to the godly person who does his will. Nobody has ever heard of opening the eyes of a man born blind. If this man were not from God, he could do nothing.”
While many of them seem to be changing color in their faces, one step forward who is trembling as well
“You were steeped in sin at birth! How dare you lecture us! Get out! Get out now!”
I have no desire to stay. They show me the door, and that’s fine. I would not stay a moment longer than necessary.
I think I remember my way back home. My neighbors who came with me are scattered now, and my parents hesitated too. Guess I will take this walk alone.
Ah, here is someone coming near.
“Do you believe in the Son of Man?”
He must have been in the temple, or been told about the conversation.
“Who is he, sir? Tell me so that I may believe in him.”
“You have now seen him; in fact, he is the one speaking with you.”
Yes, that is the voice!
“Lord, I believe!”
“For judgment I have come into this world, so that the blind will see and those who see will become blind.”
“What? Are we blind too?” someone calls from behind me.
Oh, those men were in the Temple with the priests. They must have been following me to see what would happen.
“If you were blind, you would not be guilty of sin; but now that you claim you can see, your guilt remains. Very truly I tell you Pharisees, anyone who does not enter the sheep pen by the gate, but climbs in by some other way, is a thief and a robber. The one who enters by the gate is the shepherd of the sheep. The gatekeeper opens the gate for him, and the sheep listen to his voice. He calls his own sheep by name and leads them out. When he has brought out all his own, he goes on ahead of them, and his sheep follow him because they know his voice. But they will never follow a stranger; in fact, they will run away from him because they do not recognize a stranger’s voice.”
They have no response. They look confused…
“Very truly I tell you, I am the gate for the sheep. All who have come before me are thieves and robbers, but the sheep have not listened to them. I am the gate; whoever enters through me will be saved. They will come in and go out, and find pasture. The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full.
“I am the good shepherd. The good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep. The hired hand is not the shepherd and does not own the sheep. So when he sees the wolf coming, he abandons the sheep and runs away. Then the wolf attacks the flock and scatters it. The man runs away because he is a hired hand and cares nothing for the sheep.
“I am the good shepherd; I know my sheep and my sheep know me— just as the Father knows me and I know the Father—and I lay down my life for the sheep. I have other sheep that are not of this sheep pen. I must bring them also. They too will listen to my voice, and there shall be one flock and one shepherd. The reason my Father loves me is that I lay down my life—only to take it up again. No one takes it from me, but I lay it down of my own accord. I have authority to lay it down and authority to take it up again. This command I received from my Father.”
Now there is a shepherd I would want to follow, even now that I can see! The crowd that has gathered is still quiet. How long will this last?
“He is demon-possessed and raving mad. Why listen to him?” says one, though under his breathe.
“These are not the sayings of a man possessed by a demon” says another “Can a demon open the eyes of the blind?”
Very good question!
(C) 2018 Chuck Curtiss
To read other similar stories in this series see The Witness List.
Based on John 9 & 10
All Scripture quotations, unless otherwise indicated, are taken from the Holy Bible, New International Version®, NIV®. Copyright ©1973, 1978, 1984, 2011 by Biblica, Inc.™ Used by permission of Zondervan. All rights reserved worldwide. http://www.zondervan.com.
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