That our eyes may be opened

Now as they went out of Jericho, a great multitude followed him. And behold, two blind men sitting by the road, when they heard that Jesus was passing by, cried out, saying, "Have mercy on us, O Lord, Son of David!" Then the multitude warned them that they should be quiet; but they cried out all the more, saying, "Have mercy on us, O Lord, Son of David!" So Jesus stood still and called them, and said, "What do you want me to do for you?" They said to him, "Lord, that our eyes may be opened." So Jesus had compassion and touched their eyes. And immediately their eyes received sight, and they followed him.

- Matthew 20:29-34

Jesus is on his way toward Jerusalem. He has warned his disciples what will happen in Jerusalem, how he will suffer and be crucified, and on the third day rise from the dead. Here in Jericho, he encounters two blind men who call out to him. In Jericho, we recall the triumph of the people of God (Israel), who destroyed the walls with a mighty shout in unison.

Now as they went out of Jericho, a great multitude followed him. And behold, two blind men sitting by the road, when they heard that Jesus was passing by, cried out, saying, "Have mercy on us, O Lord, Son of David!" My study bible notes on this section: "This last miracle before Jesus' triumphal entrance into Jerusalem reveals the arrival of the messianic age. For this reason, the two blind men greet him as Lord, the common name for God, and Son of David, a title deeply rooted in popular messianic expectation. Jesus knows beforehand what they want -- and what we want. But he calls us to ask freely that he might answer in mercy. Matthew reports two blind men; Mark mentions only one (Mark 10:46-52)." Once again, we remark on the "doubling" we find in the gospel of Matthew. In Mark's gospel, we encounter Bartimaeus, the blind beggar in Jericho, as my study bible notes. In today's story, there are two blind men who call out to Jesus. Other instances of this "doubling" in Matthew include the story of the two men possessed by demons in the country of the Gergesenes (as contrasted with the man who was called Legion in Mark's gospel), and the two miracles of feeding of the multitudes in Matthew - one of five thousand and the other of four thousand. I personally do not understand the reason for this sense of doubling, except in one kind of instance: in the feeding of the multitudes, the first happens among the "lost sheep of the house of Israel;" that is, among the Jews. In the second instance, there were many Gentiles present. Matthew's gospel is written primarily from the Jewish perspective and for a Jewish audience; it is possible that this sense of doubling is intended to convey that this gospel is for all people, both Jews and Gentiles.

And there is another similarity here that recalls another story from Matthew's gospel. That is the way in which Jesus is addressed by the blind beggars: "Have mercy on us, O Lord, Son of David!" We hear this same cry, using this title, in the story of the Canaanite woman who wanted help for her daughter who, we are told, was "severely demon-possessed." In that case, the woman was pointedly told by Jesus that he was sent for "the lost sheep of the house of Israel." But she "argues" with him, saying that even the dogs get the children's crumbs under the table. And for her persistence, she was rewarded with the healing of her daughter. This was the first explicit instance of Jesus' mercy expanding to include Gentiles, whose faith makes the connection to healing and mercy. So, in this story of the two blind beggars in Jericho, just before Jesus enters Jerusalem to be greeted triumphantly as Messiah, we are reminded of just where this gospel will go, that it will go out to all people, although Jesus is firmly identified as the Jewish Messiah.

Then the multitude warned them that they should be quiet; but they cried out all the more, saying, "Have mercy on us, O Lord, Son of David!" As with the Canaanite woman, these beggars are shushed by the crowds, the ones who are also in the story. In the earlier case, it was the disciples who told the woman to be quiet, and asked Jesus to send her away, as she continued to pester them to help her. So, we learn here of the persistence of the blind beggars in calling out to Jesus for mercy.

So Jesus stood still and called them, and said, "What do you want me to do for you?" Jesus asks for specifics. First he observes their persistence -- how much do they want what he has to offer? And then he asks them to put yet more effort into this connection in faith with him. "What do you want me to do for you?" This, in its way, is also similar to the event with the Canaanite woman, in which she was goaded, in a sense, to express her persistence in faith, in seeking specifically what Jesus has to offer, her desire for his presence and relationship in her life, his mercy and healing. This delay, the asking for specifics, the time spent "urging out," in a sense, the desire on the part of those who would be healed for what Jesus is offering, is a kind of analogy to prayer. It is the way God deals with us in prayer. We are asked to come to this table with specifics, for our desire to be flamed and fanned, to pursue in prayer what we want and need, to hone our desire for the mercy and healing that is offered from the Lord.

They said to him, "Lord, that our eyes may be opened." So Jesus had compassion and touched their eyes. What do they want? They want their eyes to be opened. How analogous is this to prayer, to the spiritual enlightenment we seek in this relationship? Healing and mercy are synonymous with enlightenment, with good or true sight. We all want our eyes to be opened. Truth and love are synonymous when it comes to this relationship of faith. We don't get one without the other. The mercy that is in salvation involves healing all of ourselves, all that ails us, be that on spiritual, mental, emotional or physical grounds. It is "all of the above."

And immediately their eyes received sight, and they followed him. Those who are healed become his followers. This act of the receipt of sight is an act not just of getting something physical that they want for themselves. They are changed, transformed, healed through the truth that is this mercy, that is salvation. In that transformation, they thirst for more. They are changed and become his disciples, his followers. They have found the place in which they wish to remain, and to go forward in following. So, as we march toward Jerusalem with Jesus, we go, too, as the blind beggars. We pray for mercy, and remember that mercy is the balm for every rough edge, for all that ails us in this world, be it on any level within ourselves. Our sight that we wish to be restored to is not just a physical sight, but it is the mercy we wish to know as the reality of God, and our place in God's kingdom. Mercy, as we have often said on this blog, comes in the word in its Greek form as the same word for "olive oil" (eleos), which was the basis for all healing balm in the ancient world. What we pray for is that which softens the world, gives us mercy and love - and the truth that this reality of the love of God is there for all of us. We just have to make certain it is what we really want. It is not there for those who do not value it properly, nor for those who do not truly want it. In time - similarly to the delay in the answering of the prayers of both these blind beggars and the Canaanite woman - we have time to choose, to decide. Is this what we really want? How do we refine our prayer? For what do we pray? Do we understand mercy as the "opening up of our eyes" or as the thing that heals us of the "demons" of this world, that sets us free from that which causes spiritual pain and blindness? Let us consider, then, what do we pray for when we pray for mercy, so that we truly see.