The Gospel writer Luke shares an absolutely fascinating story in chapter eighteen of his account of Jesus’ life.  Starting in verse 35 we meet a blind man, sitting on the road side.  As luck would have it (or was it providence?), he is informed that the great Rabbi Jesus is passing by.  What an opportunity!  What should he do?  For a beggar, the possibilities are endless.  He could work the crowd; perhaps make enough in donations for the entire month.  Better yet, he could ask Jesus himself to provide enough riches and wealth to last him a life time.  But really, why would Jesus do anything for him?  He knows who he is, a blind, poor, nobody.  His only real hope is mercy.  And so he cries out, “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!” (v. 37).

Unfortunately, those around him reinforce his sense of worthlessness and tell him to just be quiet; but not now, not at this time.  He needs Jesus.  And what does Jesus do, He stops.  Looking directly at the man, turning His attention to this nobody in the midst of all of the crowds, the King asks, “What do you want me to do for you?” (v. 40).  This beggar knows exactly what he wants, what he needs.  Not the crowds pity, not the Masters riches, he needs to see.

What a word picture for us.  As the arrows of life come at us, as we find ourselves relegated to the dungeons of failure and missed opportunities, we too are left with a question in this thing that we call our Christian life.  Do we seek the crowds pity, praying that they will somehow offer some momentary relief; or do we seek the golden chalice of religion, hoping that God or faith or something will magically make the rest of our miserable existence palatable; or do we have the wisdom to recognize that we too are blind, and that what we truly need is sight … eyes to see.

“Lord, I want to see,” he replied. (v. 41). 

You know what Jesus did, don’t you?  He gave him his sight! 

And the man’s response:  he followed Jesus.  Not into comfort and luxury, not into safety, but into life, true life.  From what we know of the first century, things likely got pretty heated for this man. But now he could see.  Now he could enter the adventure instead of sitting on the road side.  He could walk with Jesus instead of waiting for Him to pass by again.

Lord, I want to see.

To the King,

David