The Journey of Seeing

As they were leaving Jericho, a huge crowd followed. Suddenly they came upon two blind men sitting alongside the road. When they heard it was Jesus passing, they cried out, “Master, have mercy on us! Mercy, Son of David!” The crowd tried to hush them up, but they got all the louder, crying, “Master, have mercy on us! Mercy, Son of David!” - Matthew 20: 29-31

We, like the blind men, often only hear (indirect experience) of God. Our blindness must reach a depth of pain that causes a cry that is louder than the popular perspective. If we continue to cry, love is attuned so subtly to us and will answer. The cry to have mercy on yourself is one of humility. A deep realization that we need something greater than ourselves. It unconditionally always starts with asking us , What do you want from me?”. The blind men reply, “master” as an acknowledgment that Jesus is their source of truth and authority. They ask for their eyes to be opened and for them to see. We are all blind in our own ways. We don’t always want our eyes opened. But, there comes a time (usually driven by deep pain or change) when we do and the text says, “ deeply moved”, Jesus touched their eyes. Healing is personal.

 It’s embodied. It’s compassionate. Immediately the men got their sight back. Why I believe it’s so important to note that he touched them is that the first thing they saw once their eyes were opened was, Jesus. The now- seeing men joined the procession of following. It’s almost as if we need to see a form of love and Christ somewhere before we see him everywhere. Their immediate awareness of Jesus now allows them to find him everywhere they look. Their physical blindess was not the deepest issue- it was their deeper spiritual blindness of needing to see God and to know love in order to trust that seeing is not believing and that we walk by faith not by sight. But, as humans, we need a concrete vision for our security. To know God both in the physical and spiritual.

quote from mystic

question for practice