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CHAPTER VIII Have Mercy
We crossed the river to the western bank and continued along the dusty road to Jericho.
In a short time we could see the outlines of the houses and shops in the shadows. With the Dead Sea not far to the South, this is and has always been an inhospitable part of the world.
Why anyone would choose such a place to live, I did not know. On the outskirts of the town were many beggars, most of them physically incapacitated in some way, unable to labor, poor, starving. Most of them just sat mute, a terrible symbol to the inhumanity of the terrible fate that brought them to this place. One of these was not so mute, a blind man sitting at the roadside begging. Hearing the crowd that always seemed to accompany us, he asked what was going on. A companion heard his question and told him, "Jesus of Nazareth is passing by."
Instant energy seemed to charge him. He cried out in a voice laden with urgency and anticipation, "Jesus! Son of David! Have pity on me!" He reached for his staff and struggled to stand. In his anticipation, he couldn't quite make his limbs work, and he started to fall. The person who had spoken to him reached out and steadied him.
Those walking at the front of the entourage began to tell him to be quiet, but he cried louder and repeatedly, "Son of David, have pity on me!"
Jesus stopped. "Justus," he said to me, "bring that man to me." I stepped forward and took the man's arm and brought him to Jesus. "What do you wish me to do for you?" It was a question spoken into silence and penetrated the dark realm of this man's meager existence.
I've often wondered what it might be like to be blind. At times I have shut my eyes tightly just to see if I could duplicate the experience, stumbling about. Yet I always opened my eyes again and saw. This man had never opened his eyes. All that had ever stood before him was the blackness of a starless, moonless night in the forest, inside his head. It was as if he had no eyes at all. No. I could not in my childish attempts duplicate that.
Through my musing I heard him say, "Lord, that I may receive my sight."
Jesus, knowing his pain and deprivation more than any other, was deeply moved with compassion. He spoke gently to the man, "Then receive your sight, my friend. Your faith is sweet and beautiful. It has healed you." As he said this, he touched the man's eyes; and when he removed his hands, where once discolored, yellow orbs twisted grotesquely, now clear, perfect blue-green, seeing eyes illuminated his face. Tears of gratitude streamed down his cheeks into his beard as he squinted at the brightness, then peered into the eyes of the Master.
The art of language fails me to properly relate what witnessing such a scene does to a person. I could feel myself shaking. This event took place within arm's length of where I stood.
Onward we pressed toward Jerusalem. You could almost feel the tempo of our journey increase, the sense of urgency, anticipating battle, preparing for inevitable agony, surged with the pounding of blood in our veins. We were not aware of what would happen, yet we knew that something would. It was as if we were preparing our stomachs to meet a hideous event. Even Jesus, though outwardly calm, seemed tense, knowing yet accepting with resignation the foreordained destiny that lay ahead.
As we passed through the dirty streets of Jericho, curious crowds increased. Here we encounter Zacchaeus, chief tax collector, wealthy and despised. He was as curious to see Jesus as the others, but being absurdly short, the top of his head came to the average man's chest. He could not see over the crowd. So he ran ahead and climbed a tree to see. When Jesus reached the spot, he looked up and laughed, "Zacchaeus, what are you doing up in that tree?" Intoning his voice as if he were speaking to a child, "Come down this instant. I was just on my way to visit with you and your family." Zacchaeus scrambled down at once and welcomed him gladly. Everyone saw and heard this. Some began to mutter, "Incredible! He has gone to be the guest of this evil creature." Two issues are clear: First, Jesus ignores criticism of what he considers the appropriate way to think and the right thing to do. He seems to taunt his critics by rubbing their nose in it. Second, he fully expects the effort of good to result in good. And with Zacchaeus, that is exactly what happened. At dinner that evening Zacchaeus stood up and said to the Jesus, "Lord, here and now I give half of my possessions to the poor, and if I have cheated anybody out of anything, I will pay back four times the amount." Jesus raised his eyebrows and smiled. Reaching for his cup of wine, he raised it and said, "Today life and deliverance have come to you and your house, Zacchaeus. I toast your generosity and your honesty!" And to those standing by Jesus said, "This man is as much a son of Abraham as any of us, and from now on, you must treat him as such. For the Son of Man came to seek and to save men and women just like him." Not that Zacchaeus could not afford to be so generous. He was a man of extraordinary, ill-gotten wealth and remained so. The point is, he accepted. He believed. In his heart, faith had been planted. We continued at his home for several days before resuming our journey. With God, all things, indeed, are possible.
It seems the world is full of blind beggars. On the other side of the city, as we were leaving Jericho, yet another group of them sat about in the filth of the street holding out their hands, palms up. Two of the beggars became aware that it was Jesus going by. They shouted as did the poor soul we encountered coming into the city, "Lord! Son of David! Have mercy on us!" The crowd was the same as before. They were told to shut up and be quiet. But they shouted all the louder, "Lord! Son of David! Have mercy on us!" As he did with the others, Jesus had compassion on them and healed them. Yet again, another blind man came. We learned that this one went by the name of Bartimaeus. Like the others, he sat by the roadside begging. On hearing what Jesus had done for his colleagues, he also began to shout, "Jesus! Son of David! Have mercy on me!" Like the others, he was told to be quiet, and like the others he shouted all the more. "Son of David!" he screamed, "have mercy on me!" Had these people no sense of decorum? Jesus said again, "Call him and bring him to me." So they said to the blind man, "On your feet old fellow, he's calling for you." Throwing his cloak aside, Bartimaeus jumped to his feet and with help, found his way to Jesus. "Teacher, please," he pleaded, "I want to see." "Then go," said Jesus, "your faith has healed you." Immediately he received his sight and followed us along the road. We continued our trek to Jerusalem; Bartimaeus, formerly blind, in our train.
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