The Man Born Blind: That the Works of God Should be Made Manifest In Him

Then he replied, 'Neither hath this man sinned, nor his parents, but that the works of God should be made manifest in him. I must work the works of him that sent me.'

"Suddenly, I sprang to my feet and flung myself prostrate before him. Imploring his mercy and help, I remember how I turned my sightless eyes upon him, stretching out my arms in entreaty. Would he be moved by the cry of a forlorn beggar? The favors of the great were freely bestowed only upon those who could make some adequate recompense. And I--naught could I offer by way of bribe, inducement, or reward. Thus it flashed across my darkened mind how vain and futile such a plea as mine.

But even while I thus reasoned, I felt his hands pressing moist clay gently upon my eyelids. Then came the commanding word, 'Go wash in the pool of Siloam.' Without a word, unquestioning the sincerity of his implied promise, I began to thread my way through the streets. That was indeed a test both of patience and faith--patience, for you, to whom eyes are not as precious as the costliest gems that ever merchant found, cannot know how hard is the path of the sightless; and my faith also was tried, for, evil though I know now those thoughts to be, as I wandered on, doubts arose in my mind like the fever-laden vapors of the swamp. What could it mean? Was it only a pretense? Perhaps it was to rid himself of my importunity, and while I pursued some foolish quest, I was losing what little gain might otherwise be mine.

Then my heart rose in revolt against such unworthy thoughts. Had I trained myself to read the soul in a man's voice in vain? I knew that Jesus would not, yea could not, mock one in such a plight. And thus to Siloam's waters I came. As I stood by the edge and laved my eyes, lo! it was as though the curtains of night had been suddenly torn aside. There lay the pool like a silver mirror, the blue sky above my head, and people leisurely passing along the highway beyond. It was all so unbelievable, so wonderful!

I now stumbled on my way to the synagogue. My brain was set on fire. Two things I must do. First I must render thanks to the Almighty Benefactor of the race for the mercy that was mine. Then I must search out him to whom I owed so much. Even though none might tell me where he was, though I did not know his face, I had but to hear once more that soul-compelling voice to find my Master and Lord.

...

And from that distant day to this hour I have grown more fully thankful that to me was the promise of our ancient prophet Isaiah, fulfilled: "The people that walked in darkness have seen a great light. They that dwell in the land of the shadow of death, upon them hath the light shined.' Yea, a living faith in Christ is, as I have said, like our noble river. But a superficial pretense of religion may best be likened to yonder Dead Sea. It receives all to itself; it gives forth nothing. It takes the bounty of God; it turns naught to account. Therefore it is dead. For in that sea no fish cleave the waters. No luscious vegetation clothes its shores. No bird will even wing its way across its sullen expanse. Rightly is it called dead. But is not the hollow profession of religion also dead and profitless? Tell me, do I not speak true? And what, therefore shall our own faith be likened to? To see, as this world reckons wisdom, is to be blind. But to be responsive to the touch of Christ, to obey his bidding, is, verily, to see indeed!"

~ The Glorious Galilean, J.W.G. Ward