Whether he is a sinner or not, I don’t know. One thing I do know. I was blind but now I see! John 9:25 (NIV)
Never Been Heard – Part 1
I was becoming frustrated of saying it. Everyone was asking, but no one was listening. I answered the same way and yet they kept on asking. Again.
And again.
No one ever seemed to hear what I say. I made my way through life silently, feeling my way around. Like I did in the house I live and grew up in. Every day, I woke before dawn, careful not to stir my parents, and would make my way through the house and out the front door. Ready to take up my post by the road. I would change spots every now and then, but people tended to be the same no matter where I sat.
I knew they could see me. I knew they could hear the words I rehearsed day after day… I could tell by the chink of coins or clamour of food that sometimes fell into the pot at my feet, and sometimes by the quick hands that would reach down and take what had been generously, or begrudgingly, given.
I could feel it all.
I could feel their eyes skim over my hunched body as they looked down at me, but never really saw me. I knew they could hear me because I heard them say things like, “Be quiet, beggar…. Go somewhere else, we’ve given you all we can… Can you smell him?… I wish there were something we could do… I wish we didn’t have to see him… I wonder what sin his parents committed to get a child like that?… What kind of sinner is he to end up here?…”
Every. Single. Day.
While everyone saw me and everyone heard me, no one saw me and I’ve never been heard.
I didn’t choose this life. I was born this way. There was nothing that I could do. And try as I may, I’ve never been able to change it. I couldn't work, so I begged. I didn’t want to burden my family… They can’t afford for me to burden them. I would try and bring home enough to reduce my mother's sighs and help my father sleep at night.
Up until today, all I knew was that I was born like this. As far as I could tell my parents hadn’t committed any sins greater than anyone else… they went to the temple, they sacrificed, they observed the laws…
The blame doesn’t belong anywhere. It is what it is.
Until today, when “what is” became “what was…” Something happened. Something unexpected.
Something miraculous.
“What happened? Tell us again?”
And I tell them, but instead of listening, they argue among themselves about the details. First at my parent's house, then with my neighbours, and now here at the temple.
The temple… I never imagined it would look this…
“And who did this to you? Tell us exactly what he did!” The crowd babbled their questions at me almost incoherently…
“Well, he put something on my eyes, it felt wet and grimy… I guess it was mud. Then he sent down me to the baths…” I keep trying to tell them, but they just shout over me.
“How can this be from God? Who does he think he is! We know he is a sinner! He did this on the Sabbath!”
“QUIET!!”
I didn’t realise I was saying it until it became a scream in my throat that erupted out of my mouth and into the ears of those around me.
“Quiet!”
Now I had their attention. Now for the first time, they didn’t just hear, they listened. They heard every word. And while they were listening, they didn’t just look at me, but they saw me. They realised that my eyes once clouded and grey were now vibrant and alive. I was almost distracted from talking by all I could see before me.
See.
For the first time.
“I don’t know who this man is. I don’t know how he did it. I haven't even seen him myself. After I had washed at the baths, he was gone. I don't know who he claims to be, or what else he is capable of doing. I don't know how I came to be blind, or how the man came to be standing by me today while I was begging. But look at me now. I'm glad he did! All I know is that I was blind, and now? Now I can see!”
Go to Part 2 – Blind Man Walking
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