And he comes to Bethsaida; and they bring him a blind man, and beseech him that he might touch him.
The Lord comes to Bethsaida, where some people carry a blind man to Him. They also tell Him how they want the healing done.
Writers identify this Bethsaida as the town on the northern shore of the lake, not the better-known one on the western side. The healing there stayed out of public view.
In the course of His tour, the Lord and His party of followers reached Bethsaida. This appears to have been the town or village known as Bethsaida Julias. It stood on the northern shore of the Sea of Galilee, near the place where the first miracle of the multiplied bread happened. Here the Lord opened the eyes of a blind man in private, as Mark alone records.
The privacy was not accidental. Bethsaida had already had its chance. One writer reads the Lord's next move — leading the man outside — as a deliberate step away from a town that had lost its claim on Him.
Bethsaida had, at this time, lost the right to see the works of Christ. For He had called, and that place had not answered. He had done His works there already, and they had not repented. He now takes the blind man out of the town, just as long before Moses had taken the tabernacle of the Lord out of the camp. Both of these acts were judicial. They spoke of a distance which the Lord had now, in righteousness, taken, whether from the camp or from the town.
The Pharisees had been asking Him for a sign. These people ask for nothing of the kind.
Some people brought a blind man to Him, so that He might touch him. When people have a real need, they are simple, because they are in earnest. Bethsaida on the western side of the lake had seen more proofs of the Lord's divine mission than Bethsaida Julias. Yet in this last-named town they did not doubt His power. They did not ask for a sign to prove His divine mission. They wanted His power used to heal that blind man, and they brought him to the Lord at once. Grumbling and unbelief marked the Pharisees. These people on the east of Jordan showed faith.
Their faith was real, but their request was narrow. They named the method they expected.
When some bring a blind man to Him they ask only that He touch him. As in chapter 7:32, they assume they know what he needs. Of course the Lord could have healed him without even touching him. But again He acts as the perfect Servant of God, showing the grace that works with the man.
The Lord did not have to touch anyone to heal. Every action here was chosen, not necessary.
He put His fingers into the deaf man's ears, He touched the ill-speaking tongue. He laid His hands upon the blind man outside Bethsaida. There was no necessity for any such actions. He had only to speak, and it was done. But love is far beyond power. When a man has power to use, even in a very small way, how little he thinks of love! Even when he is faintly aware of his own sinfulness, he is the last person to look for love from the God he slights and dreads. In the way He wields divine power, the Lord shows divine love, and He does it as a Man among men. There is no showing off at all — its absence is marked. Everything is done with genuine simplicity and tenderness.
One writer sees more than one kind of blindness in this scene.
The case of the blind man clearly sets out the difference between the nation and the disciples. The nation, as such, were in total blindness. The disciples were true believers in the Lord, but at that time they lacked spiritual understanding. They saw His divine glory only dimly. They recognised and owned Him as the true Messiah. Yet their Jewish prejudices and habits of thought kept them from seeing fully His further glories as the Son of Man and Son of God.
Another writer draws the meaning of the town's name into the lesson, and applies the Lord's manner to us.
Bethsaida means "place of snares", a picture of the world. If we are in His loving hands, separated from it, He will deal with us with the same tenderness and patience.
- Brought. The man does not come on his own. Others carry him and ask on his behalf. Real need makes people simple and earnest.
- Bethsaida. The town had seen His works and had not repented, so the Lord gives the blessing quietly, outside it.
- Touch. They named the way they wanted it done. He was never limited to it; He works as the perfect Servant of God.
- Love. A word would have been enough. The touch showed love, not necessity.
- Sight. The man pictures disciples who owned Him as Messiah yet saw His glory dimly. The same hands hold us with tenderness and patience.
And taking hold of the hand of the blind man he led him forth out of the village, and having spit upon his eyes, he laid his hands upon him, and asked him if he beheld anything.
At Bethsaida the Lord does not heal a blind man on the spot. He takes his hand, walks him out of the village, touches his eyes, and then asks him a question. Not one of those steps was needed for power. That is why commentators find so much meaning in them.
The first thing Jesus does is not the cure but the contact. One writer sees in that held hand how the Lord works with a soul long before blessing comes.
Of course the Lord could have healed him without even touching him. But again He acts as the perfect Servant of God, showing the grace that works with the man... First, He takes him by the hand, and surely no one was ever more gently led. The Lord Jesus always does a first work. He leads a precious soul in the direction where that soul may find blessing later. We may not realise it at the time, but such is His sovereign wisdom.
Bethsaida had already seen the works of Christ and had not repented. One writer sees the walk out of it as a deliberate move away.
Leading the blind man out of the town meant something. By this time Bethsaida had lost the right to see the works of Christ. For He had called, and that place had not answered. He had done His works there already, and they had not repented. He now takes the blind man out of the town, just as Moses long before had taken the tabernacle of the Lord out of the camp (Ex. 33). Both acts were acts of judgement. They spoke of a distance the Lord had now taken, in righteousness, whether from the camp or from the town.
A word would have been enough. The touch and the spit were extra. That extra is the point.
There was no necessity for any such actions. He had only to speak, and it was done. But love goes far beyond power. When a man has power to use, even in a very small way, how little he thinks of love! Least of all does he look for love from the God he disrespects and fears, even when he barely feels his own sinfulness. In the way the Lord uses divine power, He shows divine love — and He does it as a Man among men. There is not the slightest show about it; showiness is plainly absent.
The same writer looks past the lowly humanity to the divine power in Christ's person, and reads the hands on the man's eyes as a refusal to stop halfway.
However real and lowly the humanity He had taken up in His grace, there was divine power in His person... Here He laid His hands on the man's eyes twice, and the very purpose of that double act was to show that the Lord would not leave the cure partial. It was much to see men, like trees, but walking. Yet the Lord would not let him go like that. He would give him to see clearly.
He asks a man whose eyes He has just touched. One writer notes that He already knew what His touch had done, yet still asked — and sees the whole scene as a picture of the disciples, whose own sight was still dim.
This pictures the disciples. They saw men who looked like trees. Their sight was imperfect. But He did not leave them in that condition... See how He led the blind man outside, and what trouble He took. He knew all about the effect of putting His hands on his eyes. Yet He still asked him, in love, if he saw anything. If we are in His loving hands, separated from Bethsaida ("place of snares," a picture of the world), He will deal with us with the same tenderness and patience.
The man's sight comes back in two steps. One writer names what each step gave him.
First he received the faculty of sight. Then he received the ability to use his new sight... Man is blind by nature, and blinded too by his own deliberate evil deeds. So he needs inward eyesight of heart and soul. He also needs those new eyes to be able to see the glory of Christ's person and the truth of His teaching. Sometimes the Lord gave this double blessing by a single act of power. But in this healing He gave it in stages. First He gave the power of vision, then the power of perception.
- Hand — The cure begins with contact, not command. He leads a soul toward blessing long before that soul knows it.
- Out — He walks the man out of Bethsaida. That town had seen His works and not repented, and the Lord had now taken a righteous distance from it.
- Touch — A word would have healed him. He touched him instead, because love goes further than power.
- Question — He already knew what His touch had done, yet He still asked. Tenderness and patience, not efficiency.
- Clear — First sight, then the power to use it. He will not leave the cure partial, and He did not leave the disciples' dim sight either.
And having looked up, he said, I behold men, for I see [them], as trees, walking.
Outside Bethsaida, Jesus lays His hands on a blind man. After that first touch the man can see — but not properly. His answer raises an obvious question. Why did the One who healed with a word leave this cure half-finished?
The man's words describe real sight that cannot yet do its job.
The man looked up and said he saw men, for he saw people walking about, like trees. A man and a tree are very different. Still he could not tell them apart, especially if, as I take it, he was born blind. Everything was vague before him. He might, and no doubt did, in his blind state easily tell a tree from a man by touch. But he had not yet learned to use his new-born vision. His mind could hardly confuse moving men with trees, but his sight only showed him that the two looked somewhat alike. It was all still confusion to him.
Another writer puts the failure behind the eye. The light had come, but the mind could not yet sort what it showed.
The man's reply showed there was still weakness in the inward eye. His eyes passed on images of outside objects, but his mind lacked the power to perceive and recognise them accurately. The man was able to see, but not to tell the objects of sight apart. There was new light for him, but it was the dawn rather than the noonday.
Nothing here suggests a limit on the Lord's power. One writer reads the slow way as love taking its time.
By laying His hands on his eyes twice, the Lord made His intent plain: He would not leave the cure partial. It was much to see men, like trees, but walking. Yet the Lord would not let him go like that; He would give him to see distinctly... It was simply the way of love. He wanted the blind man to know the deep interest of His heart. He could have skipped all these details and made the cure perfect with a word. But what a blank for the man and for our hearts, if it had been only that!
Writers read the man's half-sight as a picture of the disciples themselves. (These writers quote an older translation: "I see men as trees walking.")
At the first touch the man received his sight, but he did not at once have the skill to use it. He said, "I see men as trees walking." The disciples were in the same condition spiritually. An inflated sense of the greatness and importance of man kept them from seeing the glory of the Lord. We need not only the grace that gives sight, but the further grace to use it. Then we may see "every man clearly" — see people as they really are, see ourselves in all our weakness, and above all see Jesus in all His perfection.
This distortion did not end with the disciples.
His sight was not clear: he saw men as trees walking. This is out of proportion. New believers often see certain men as too tall and give them an undue place of prominence. The Lord has to deal with us about this too, as He dealt further with this dear man, putting His hands on him a second time.
One writer traces the two touches through the disciples' own history.
They needed, like the blind man, a second touch before they saw all things clearly. The presence of the Son of God among them in flesh and blood was the first touch that reached them. As a result they began to see. When He had died, risen again, and ascended to glory, He laid His second touch on them by sending out His Spirit, as recorded in Acts 2. Then they saw all things clearly. We may well pray that our spiritual sight will not be short-sighted and out of focus. Otherwise the great trees we think we see may turn out to be only feeble little men strutting about.
The remedy offered is not more effort but a return to the same hands.
Many true-hearted believers today are as imperfect in their spiritual vision as the disciples of long ago. So to speak, they "see men as trees walking." Very few things are clear to them... Oh, that all these would go aside once more with the Saviour and get another touch from His blessed hand, like the poor man of Bethsaida.
- Sight — The first touch gave real sight. It did not yet give the skill to use it, so man and tree blurred into one.
- Dawn — Partial light is still light. But this was morning, not noon: he could see without telling things apart.
- Deliberate — The Lord chose the slower way. A word would have done it, but this way the man felt the heart behind the hand.
- Distortion — When man looks large, Christ looks small. That was the disciples' problem, and it is ours.
- Second touch — The Lord does not leave the work half done. He lays His hands on the man again, and then he sees everything clearly.
Then he laid his hands again upon his eyes, and he saw distinctly, and was restored and saw all things clearly.
Jesus meets a blind man at Bethsaida. After the first touch he sees only shapes — people moving like trees. The second touch finishes the work. Commentators read two things in it: a lesson about how sight is learned, and a picture of how Christ deals with those He is opening to Himself.
Sight is not one gift but two, as one writer explains:
The fact is that there are two things needful where a Person has not seen at all. One is the faculty of seeing, the other is the power of applying that faculty. Supposing a blind man had visual capacity conveyed to him, it does not follow that he could see thereon. He would not be able to measure distances or to judge with accuracy of the various objects before his eyes. To judge any such object rightly, the habit of seeing and comparing is necessary. We all gain this gradually, and because it grows from infancy, it is easy to overlook.
So the man's odd answer — men like trees — was not a half-failed miracle.
The eyes passed on images of outward objects, but the mind lacked the power of accurate perception and understanding. The man could see, but he could not tell the difference between the objects of sight… There was new light for him, but it was the dawn, not the noonday.
The verse stacks three verbs, and each one adds something the previous did not.
The Lord, however, chased away these shadows by a second exercise of His healing. The threefold result of this second laying on of hands was that the man (1) instantly gained clearness of vision, (2) recovered normal eyesight, and (3) began and continued to see even distant objects clearly.
A man who can see shapes is no longer blind. That was not enough for Jesus.
Here the very intent was to mark by the twofold act of laying His hands on his eyes that the Lord would not have the cure partial. It was much to see men, like trees, but walking. Yet the Lord would not let him go that way; He would give him to see distinctly.
This is how He works everywhere, not only here:
If He puts His hand to the work, He does not take it away until all is complete, according to His own love. The man then saw with perfect clearness… The double action proved Him the good Physician. And His acting so effectively — whether by word or hand, whether by one application or by two — proved Him the great Physician.
Two writers turn the healing on the disciples. Their own sight was dim in the same way: men loomed too large.
At the first touch the man received his sight, but he did not at once have the skill to use it. He said, "I see men as trees walking." The disciples were in a similar condition spiritually. An exalted sense of the greatness and importance of man kept them from seeing the glory of the Lord. We need not only the grace that gives sight, but the further grace to use it, so that we may see "every man clearly." We need to see men as they are, to see ourselves in all our weakness, and above all to see Jesus in all His perfection.
Another writer names when each touch came:
The presence of the Son of God among them in flesh and blood was the first touch that reached them, and as a result they began to see. When He had died, risen again, and ascended to glory, He laid His second touch upon them by giving them His Spirit, as recorded in Acts 2. Then they saw all things clearly. We may well pray that our spiritual vision is not near-sighted and out of focus. Otherwise the great trees we think we see turn out to be feeble little men strutting about.
What about the stage in between?
No wonder if the Lord must have us alone with Himself for the cure, outside of Bethsaida, the "place of nets," which the world truly is. Then comes the touch of His hands; and if the sight produced is indistinct, we must still not deny that it is truly sight. Nor will He leave until it is perfected.
- Apart. Christ takes the man out of Bethsaida, the "place of nets," to deal with him alone.
- First touch. Real sight, but unusable sight: he saw men and could not tell them from trees. Dawn, not noon.
- Second touch. Three gains at once — steady gaze, restored eyes, and lasting clear vision, near and far.
- Pattern. The disciples were that man. Christ among them was the first touch; the Spirit given in Acts 2 was the second.
- Promise. Where Christ starts, He finishes. Indistinct sight is still sight, and He will not withdraw His hands until it is complete.