Blind Man
A Monologue by Peter-John Campbell
My
hands were the first thing I ever saw. Dripping with mud, they glistened in the
light. I trembled and marveled in disbelief. He said this was all I had to do,
but it’s one thing to be told something; it’s another to see it with your own
eyes.
My
eye caught something in the pool of water next to me. Looking in, I wasn’t sure
what to expect. I saw a face, mud smeared matted hair, with skin like leather
from too many years of sitting in the sun. It was hideous and ugly by all
accounts, but it was mine, my own reflection.
Suddenly
my sight became blurred and everything became unclear. “No!” I cried. Quickly I
wiped my eyes in fear that this was all a momentary dream. All was clear again but
then it quickly blurred. I laughed as tears poured out of my eyes. What a fool
I was, but how was I to know I collapsed in a heap and wept. I must have looked
crazy to all those around, but I didn’t care. I could see. I could see!
Word
spread faster through the street than I could run. “I can see!” I cried. The
town was in an uproar. Everyone rushed toward me to see what all the noise was
about. Faces that I’ve never seen looked at me with a perplexed familiarity.
“Is that the man who begs down at the corner?” “No, but he sure looks like
him.” “It’s him; I knew he was a con.”
Everyone
was arguing about whether it was actually me or not. “It’s me! It’s me!” I
yelled, “I’m healed! I can see!” Most refused to believe; I don’t blame them.
How many blind men have you ever met that can now see?
In
the midst of all the noise I heard a voice I knew, calling my name in the
crowd. It was the voice of a merchant who sold fish on the same corner where I
would beg. He was always kind to me, giving me some of his daily catch. He was
the closest thing I had to a friend. He ran up to me, and seeing his face for
the first time I laughed and cried and so did he. We embraced and then holding
my face in his hands, he asked, “How is this possible?”
“The
man,” I choked through my tears. “The man called Jesus put mud on my eyes and
told me to go wash at Siloam.” On hearing this, the crowd fell deathly silent.
My friend looked at me, stunned, “What did you say?”
“The
man Jesus. He healed me.” The crowd became unsettled, whispering and murmuring
was all I could hear. Many began to quickly leave. “My friend,” the fish
merchant said, grabbing my shoulder. “Be careful what you say, for only God can
heal.”
The
crowd broke up but there were a few who stopped and asked if I knew where Jesus
had gone. “I don’t know were He went. I wouldn’t even know what He looked like
if I saw Him.”
It
didn’t take long for them to find me - the Pharisees, that is. I wasn’t invited
so much as forced to be there. A whole lot of them had gathered already while a few
straggled in. They talked among themselves, with no regard for me standing
there.
“Why would he waste his time
healing a dog such as this?”
“This man was never blind; he’s
only a beggar and a thief.” They went on like this for some time then finally
turned to me. One of the Pharisees - a tall man - walked toward me.
“Beggar,” he addressed me, “you
said that you were blind. How is it then that you can see?”
“Well,
the man Jesus put mud on my eyes and told me to wash in the Pool of Siloam.
When I did, I could see.”
A
short fat man standing near the front of the group shouted out, “This man,
Jesus, is not from God, for he does not keep the Sabbath.” Another I couldn’t
see responded, “But how can a sinner do such miraculous signs?” They all began
to speak at once, for they were divided on this matter. The tall man stared at
me coldly, turned slowly, and walked back to the group. Their arguing went on
for a few minutes until the tall man returned.
He spoke with a slow cadence though
he was young, and donned his piety and arrogance like a robe. “Tell me, beggar,
He opened your eyes. Who do you say He is?”
I
looked him in the eye and thought for a moment. “He’s a prophet.”
An
angry shout came from the group. “This man is a thief and a liar! You were
never blind, only a con-man who begs for pennies!” Many agreed with a great
noise.
The
tall man turned to them, “Silence!” Then to the temple guards, “Go find his
parents and bring them here.” He looked at me. “We’ll see if he’s a liar or not.”
It
took some time for them to find my parents, so we had to wait. The Pharisees
went back to talking, many left the room and, except for a few stragglers, I
was alone. Stepping outside, to get some air, I got my first look at Jerusalem.
I had no idea how marvelous it was! How could I?
People sometimes ask me, “What
surprised you the most about being able to see?” I never knew how high the sky
was. Or the beauty of a sunset. The way the light dances on the sea. The colors
are more vibrant and there are more of them than I ever could of thought.
Sometimes I close my eyes just to remember what it was like, but not for long.
This gift is much too precious to me and I want to see everything.
I
walked back inside. Across the room a woman and a man were waiting. When they
saw me they became excited and the woman rushed over to me. She called my name
and I immediately knew who she was. Her voice I knew better than any other; she
was my mother.
She
hugged me and frantically kissed me. The Pharisees began to gather again.
“Son,” she said to me, “just tell them what they want to hear. Everyone is
saying that they will put anyone out of the Synagogue that claims that Jesus is
the Messiah.”
“Mother,
I can’t do that. I know what I saw.” That was the first time I had ever said
that. “Mother, the man who healed me said that it wasn’t my sin or yours that
made me blind. It was for the glory of God.”
My
father said to me quietly, “Son, we all know that God doesn’t heal sinners.”
“Well,
maybe we’re not sinners… Or maybe He does heal us.”
The
Pharisees had finished gathering. The tall man approached. He turned to my
father, with his same cold tone he addressed him, “Is this your son?”
“Yes.”
“And
he has been blind since birth?
“Yes.”
“Then
how is it now possible for him to see?”
My
father’s face was grieved. My mother’s hands trembled as she wondered what he
would answer. He turned and looked at me, and for the first time ever we locked
eyes; his were brown. “Sir!” repeated the Pharisee. “I asked you a question.
How is it that your son can see?” My father stood silent, staring at me with
his sorrowful eyes. “Sir!” The Pharisee was growing impatient.
My
father turned and looked at him, “We know that this is our son. And we know
that he was born blind. But how he can see? Ask him, he is of age.” My heart
fell, as did my father’s head. He didn’t even look at me. Embarrassed and
ashamed, he left the room, my mother close behind.
The
tall Pharisee turned back to me again. “Beggar, give glory to God. We know this
man, Jesus, is a sinner.”
I
watched my parents standing in the doorway, my heart still reeling from what
just happened. My mother’s words hung on me like lead. Maybe I should just tell
them what they wanted to hear, I thought. But how could I? I turned back to the
Pharisees and said something that I wasn’t even expecting. “Whether He is a
sinner or not, I don’t know. One thing I do know. I was blind but now I see!”
At this, my mother collapsed into my father’s arms, sobbing.
“No
one doubts that you were blind. We merely wonder how it is that you are able to
see. What did He do to you? How did He open your eyes?”
“I’ve
told you already and you did not listen. Why do you want me to tell you again?
Do you want to become His disciple, too?”
The
group became angry. “Get this dog out of here!”
The
tall man’s face became like stone. “You are a disciple of this man?! We are
disciples of Moses. We know that God spoke to Moses but as for this man we
don’t even know where He comes from.”
“Now
that’s remarkable!” I said. “You don’t know where He comes from, yet He opened
my eyes. We know that God doesn’t listen to sinners. He only listens to the
godly who do His will. Have you ever heard of anyone who’s opened the eyes of a
blind man? If this man isn’t from God, then how could He do this?”
The
tall man quickly stepped forward, grabbed my shoulder and pushed me backwards
towards the door. “You were steeped in sin from the day you were born. How dare
you lecture us!”
“And
you weren’t? And you weren’t steeped in sin!” I wanted to say that, but he
threw me out too quickly.
I
began to make my way home. Some of the Pharisees followed at a distance,
probably to see what I would do next. But I didn’t care. I was enjoying my
newfound sense - the city, the buildings, the faces. People fell silent as I
walked by. “Look, there he is, the crazy man.” Whispers and murmurs filled the
street. Though I was the center of attention they all acted like I wasn’t
there. Everywhere I went people moved away from me like I was a leper. My heart
grew heavy.
What
has been the greatest, most wonderful thing that ever happened to me now made
me accursed. “Maybe I had done the wrong thing. Mother was right; I should have
told them what they wanted to hear.” I saw a Rabbi approaching from the other
direction. When he came closer, he smiled at me and stopped. “Sir,” The Rabbi
said to me. “Do you believe in the Son of Man?”
“Who is He that I might believe?” I
asked.
“You have now seen Him.” It was The
Voice! The voice of the man who put the mud on my eyes! I fell to the ground at
His feet and wept, “Lord, I believe!”
He turned to the Pharisees who had
followed me. “I came into this world so that the blind could see and those who
think they can see would be blind.” Jesus said this, but He was not speaking of
the blindness of one’s eyes but of the heart.
The
Pharisees replied back with indignation, “We are not blind!”
“No,
you’re not. If you were blind, you wouldn’t be guilty of the sin you commit.
But because you claim that you can see yet still sin, your guilt remains.” He
said this because the pride of men’s own hearts blinds them from the truth of
their own sin.
He
said that if anyone tried to find God without believing that Christ is God,
then he would never find God. He spoke this in a parable and the Pharisees did
not understand Him. Jesus said that His followers would know Him by His voice,
as I did, before they knew Him by sight. He called the Pharisees “thieves” and
“robbers” and said that anyone who followed His teachings wouldn’t be misled by
their lies. He said that He was the Good Shepherd and we were His sheep, that
the only way to Heaven was through Him.
He said all this and much more, and
because of His words the Pharisees and the rest of the people were divided.
Some said that He was demon-possessed, but others said He was a prophet because
He opened my eyes.
That was a long time ago, but I’ll
never forget that day. It’s true, most don’t believe me; I hardly believe it
myself. That day I was put out of the communion of men, but brought into a
deeper and greater relationship with the one true God.
I’m often asked about that day, and
of the other miracles and teachings of Jesus. People ask me if I think that the
stories are true. I tell them, “Yes.”
“But how? Those things are too
impossible to believe.”
That might be true. But then again,
I can see.
Blind Man by Peter-John Campbell
©2005
