Welcome to My Poetry Site


I love the huge expectation of the blindman in Luke 18:35-43.
Imagine if you were a well respected scholar of the scriptures in this scene.....

 
That day at the gates of Jericho.  It was a day that changed my life forever.
I was looking to get something out of that day in Jericho, but came away with something completely different.  Unexpected.  Indescribable.

I was in the crowd that day.  We were happy.  We were smiling – on our pilgrimage.  Looking forward to the Passover.
I was respected by those around me.  I had read the Torah, a man of the temple, a man of some means.

And to make the day even better, there he was, walking within the crowd: Jesus.  His fame was spreading quickly.  He was doing great things.  Clearly a man of scripture, like myself.  I wonder if maybe we would meet today and discuss the writings of our prophets?

Friends and associates had told me of wonderful things.  Healings.  Teachings the likes of which had never been heard.  But I had also heard strange reports as well which puzzled me.  Things which, at the time, at least did not make sense.

One of my friends told me that a man, like me,  asked Jesus what he needed to do to inherit eternal life.  Jesus recalled the commandments to him and this man who was clearly of the scriptures replied that he had kept all of them from youth.  And what was his reply?  Sell everything and give your riches to the poor.  Here was a rich man who had probably worked hard to gain his wealth and Jesus told him to give it all away to people who did not deserve it?  As you can imagine, the man went away saddened and discouraged.

But before my doubts even had the opportunity to increase, I also heard something equally baffling.
The person who told me this was an upstanding person so I believed him.  He said Jesus was surrounded by a crowd and a Chief Tax Collector....climbed up a tree, Jesus saw him and had dinner with him that evening.  A tax collector.  A person who sleeps in the same bed as our oppressors, a thief!  I didn’t understand it.
 
I had no idea that the day I saw Jesus in Jericho was going to be like a hammer crushing everything I believed in.
Well, Jesus was there.  That was pretty radical.  But there was also a beggar there as well. That was very normal, very usual, especially by the gates – but this person became part of the centre piece of what has changed me.

So when I walked past this particular beggar, who was also blind, there was nothing unusual, in fact I did not even notice him until I heard him call out asking about the commotion.  You could feel as well as hear the energy. 
I thought it was pretty good of me to stoop down just long enough to inform him that Jesus of Nazareth was walking through.  I had little time for small talk, especially with someone like that and who knows, I might even get to speak to Jesus.  So I quickly moved on.
 
I’m ashamed to say that prior to that pivotal day, I would have probably described a blind person this way: 
You know how sometimes when you look on the side of a river or a lake and you see a stone, covered by moss pushed out onto the bank by the movement of the water?  - insignificant -  going nowhere – blending in with the periphery, but not really belonging to the lake? – Well, that’s how I viewed the blind, or at least that’s how I did view them.

I moved my way to the front of the crowd.  I wanted to get a good view.
The energy and excitement was reaching a peak.... 
 
But then an irritating shriek came from underneath the crescendo of sound.
It was him!  The beggar.  “Jesus, Son of David!” he cried, “Have mercy on me”. 
Here was Jesus!...... and he was spoiling the day and calling him the Son of David?  No question, this man was blind!  And on top of that, he was ruining the moment.  We were enjoying walking with Jesus, the man who had done so many good things and healed people.
 
Be quiet! I said.  I’m sure many would have shared my thought of (“be a good little blind man and blend back in with the side of the road”).
I wiped any sign of frustration from my face so that by the time I was facing Jesus again he would see a beaming smile.  Maybe I could catch his attention and let him know that I was a good scholar like he was.  That would really elevate my profile among the locals here if he stopped to speak with me.
 
And along he came...  this was my moment, I could tell all my friends and associates that I got close to Jesus when..
“Son of David, have mercy on me!”
But before I could motion for some people to remove this irritant, Jesus stopped.  He was right in front of me.  His eyes met with mine.  But my smile dropped.  I suddenly felt cold.  Insignificant.  Stupid for some reason.  His eyes seemed to look through me, as if I wasn’t there.   
 
And at that moment, I do not know what others heard, but I heard nothing.  Silence.  For what felt like an eternity, his head turned away towards the direction he had just come.  His head stopped and his eyes were intently focussed on the blind man.  What was he doing?  Was he going to cast him out?  

With my eyes fixed on Jesus’ face I saw his jaw lower to speak... “Bring him to me.” He motioned.
What!?
What was going on here?

This blind man, clearly from a generation of men cursed by God Himself had the undivided attention of Jesus – but not only, Jesus – the entire crowd.  This man who was a rabbi, a scholar, clearly close to God was about to address someone as unclean as this?  Why was he lowering himself to these depths? 
But then, I began to understand.  A monster within me had been exposed.  My eyes dropped in shame as I felt weighed down in my bigotry.
 
The air was charged.  Something was going to happen.  I didn’t know what, but I knew that what could have been my moment was being taken by someone I previously would have viewed as discarded rubbish. 

All attention was on the beggar.  As the men brought him closer, Jesus looked at me.  It wasn’t a look of approval or appreciation.  (That’s what I wanted).  I only saw disappointment in his eyes, and it pierced right through me.
A wave of shame came over me, and I think many others who were there.  I was being put in my place, right there and then.
And there they both were, right in front of me.  The pinnacle, and the lowest of the low.  The man fell to Jesus’ feet.  The teacher sat in-front of him. 

There was a hushed gasp that rippled across the crowd.
Then, silence again.
“What do you want me to do for you?”
 What?? – My mind raced, it could not handle the shaking it was receiving.  Thoughts spun, out of control around my head.  Had this Jesus become a servant all of a sudden?  What was he playing at?
But, the next word that came out of that man’s mouth clanged in my head like a temple bell:
 
“Lord”
(Lord...... Lord)
He had seen something in this Jesus that I had not, and something huge was about to happen.
At that moment, it was as if this mossy stone had been picked up out of insignificance and thrown right towards the centre of the lake, and we all held our breath, waiting for it’s impact...

“Let me receive my sight”
And with authority such as I had never heard, even in the temple, Jesus said:
“Then see! Your faith has healed you”.
With that, he could see!

With that, the stone hit the centre of the lake causing huge ripples.  The blind man’s faith was the cause of the ripples and like passengers, like people on the outside, the rest of us were merely recipients, second-hand of that faith as we all jumped up and praised God.

But while I was jumping in delight, everything in me was being shaken.  Jolted.  Everything that was important to me was being challenged.  What did it all mean?
I stood there as the crowds moved on with Jesus as my mind spun and flipped for meaning.....
Jesus asked him what he wanted, and he said “Let me receive my sight”. 
 
Those words.... There was far more to them than their simple meaning.  Packed in with these words was a statement....   What those words declared was an enlightenment.  A realisation.  The bigger message was:

“You are the Messiah.  I have complete conviction in every fibre of my being that You are the Messiah.  I have asked for my sight and You are able to heal me because You are God.”

Yes,..... that’s what he was saying.....
“Your faith has healed you....” That’s what he said.  Not your stature, your position, your status, your keeping of the commandments, your works.....  Your faith.
The blind man’s words.  More than words.  A proclamation.
And he would have cried out to Jesus no matter what I or anyone else said.

You see,..... I had shuffled to the front, so I could see this Jesus of Nazereth, and this blind man saw the Messiah while he was still physically blind.
I was swept up by the energy, by the vanity of being seen with Jesus, a ‘good’ man and this blind man saw the Anointed One.
I had read the Torah that stated that the Messiah would come from David’s line and there He was, right in front of me – and the blind man saw the materialisation of scripture  - the words of Isaiah made real.
 
A man.  An insignificant man went from the fringe to the centre.   He believed.....  He believed.
To me, Jesus was a teacher, a rabbi, but to this man, he was Lord, the Son of David and he received first hand benefits of that belief as the rest of us watched on - while he embarked on his spiritual pilgrimage.

That one event has been like dynamite to the very foundations of my beliefs and left me faltering.  I, who had observed the laws, was lacking something this man with renewed sight now had.  Was there really such a difference between this blind man and myself? 

All I knew at the time was that I then had a heightened awareness of my own captivity, oppression, and, dare I say, blindness and he was free.
I never thought Isaiah included people like myself when he said that The Messiah would set the captives free.  My whole life was oppressed.  I was ruled by what people thought of me, my decisions were governed by things that would maintain my status.  I did things for people so I could receive in return.  I was filled with pride. 

But now it has all fallen into place, and I too chose to follow Jesus, and since He was crucified, I have walked with the disciples.  He said to them that a Helper will come to them.  I hope I get to witness this, because when this helper, whoever he is comes, I will follow him.  Nothing else is important to me now – thanks to a blind man who helped to give me sight.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


I have written a book called A Different Kind Of Ruthless.  The book has 31 short messages and looks at how being ruthless against the things that come against us e.g. fear, anxiety, pride can be used in our favour while we walk with God.

If you would like to buy a copy of the book, you can get it from lulu.com at:


Thank you

Steve Harewood




Comment On This Poem --- Vote for this poem
FRINGE BENEFITS (LUKE 18:35-43)