There once was a man . . . a man blind from birth . . . who spent his days sitting alongside the road to
. He had done nothing to cause his infirmary but
he was sightless, even so. Jerusalem
One day he heard the approach of many feet. Based on the party’s conversation he soon deduced that the group was a rabbi with his followers trailing behind. He was surprised to hear that they were speaking of him to their leader.
The banter halted and the blind man was taken aback by the abrupt hawking and spitting into the dirt by the rabbi, who was closest to him. He was further confused by scraping sounds in the dust near where he sat. Without warning, seemingly out of nowhere, a thumb pressed hard against his unblinking eyeball coating with a moist earthy smelling paste. He attempted to fend off the attacker when, again, a thumb pressed hard against his other eyeball, covering that one with muck, as well.
He felt his eyes, to feel what was there. "It's mud," the man exclaimed. "You've put mud in my eyes!"
The gentle voice of the rabbi instructed him to go and wash it out in a nearby pool.
Understanding came to the sightless man. He had heard tell of healers using mud as a poultice to restore to health to the infirmed.
He made his way to the pool and as the mud washed away so did his blindness.
The blind man who now could see became a follower of the rabbi . . . whose name just so happened to be Jesus.
The Gospel according to John – Chapter 9
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