In pondering the record of this blind beggar, we notice a very stinking development of character, in the different classes of persons that are brought forward. In the poor man himself, we see an earnestness, a simplicity, and a reality which we greatly covet. He illustrates, very forcibly, the value and importance of honestly following the light as it shines upon our path. “To him that hath shall more be given” is a motto plainly visible on the face of our narrative; and a precious motto it is — a valuable incitement to a zealous and devoted career. It would manifestly have served the poor man’s worldly interest, to cushion the truth as to what had been done for him. He might have enjoyed the benefit of the work of Christ, and yet avoided the rough path of testimony for His name in the face of the world’s hostility. He might have enjoyed his eyesight, and, at the same time, retained his place within the pale of respectable religious profession. He might have reaped the fruit of Christ’s work and yet escaped the reproach of confessing His Name.
How often is this the case! Alas! how often! Thousands are very well pleased to hear of what Jesus has done; but they do not want to be identified with His out-cast and rejected Name. In other words, to use a modern and very popular phrase, “They want to make the best of both worlds” — a sentiment from which every true-hearted lover of Christ must shrink with abhorrence — an idea of which genuine faith is wholly ignorant. It is obvious that the subject of our narrative knew nothing of any such maxim. He had had his eyes opened, and he could not but speak of it, and tell who did it, and how it was done. He was an honest man. He had no mixed motive. No sinister object, no under current. Happy for him! It is a terrible thing to have an under current in the soul, a mixed motive in the heart, a personal interest before the mind, a secondary object before the eye. Such things give the death-blow to all genuine, practical Christianity and true discipleship. If we want to follow a rejected Christ, the heart must be thoroughly free. The true disciple mast have his heart freed from all the objects of personal interest, as well as of expediency. These things are sure to prove extinguishers in Satan’s hand, for quenching the light of truth in the souls of men. A man may be ignorant of many things; but if he only honestly follows the light which God has graciously poured upon his pathway, he will assuredly get more. On the other hand, if for any object whatever, if to gain the most plausible and attractive end, light be extinguished, truth cushioned, testimony quashed, there is an end to all true devotedness.
Reader, do give this point your most serious attention. See that you are acting up to your light. It is a great thing when each fresh ray of light communicated produces a step in the right direction. This will always be so, when the conscience is in a right condition. “The path of the just is as the shining light which shineth more and more unto the perfect day.” Again, “When thine eye is single, thy whole body also is full of light; but when thine eye is evil, thy body also is full of darkness.” How solemn the warning that follows! “Take heed, therefore, that the light which is in thee be not darkness.” How could this ever be? How could light ever become darkness? Light not acted upon becomes darkness. Solemn thought! “Give glory to God, before he cause darkness, and your feet stumble on the dark mountains.” We know of nothing more awfully dangerous than familiarity with truth without an exercised conscience. It throws one directly into the hands of Satan. Whereas an exercised conscience — an upright mind — a single eye — keep us steadily going on in the holy, peaceful, lightsome ways of God. Hence, in our Lord’s words, in Luke 11, there is marked and beautiful progress. “If,” He adds, “thy whole body therefore be full of light, having no part dark, the whole shall be full of light, as when the bright shining of a candle doth give thee light.” In other words, the man who has a single eye will not only have light for himself, but he will be a light-bearer for others; but a man whose eye is not single — who has a mixed motive — an under current — a secondary object — a personal end, is not only involved in moral darkness himself, but he is a dishonor to the name of Christ, an instrument in the hand of Satan, and a stumblingblock in the way of his fellow-men.
This is a truth of the deepest solemnity, in this day of easy profession and worldly religiousness. There is a wide diffusion of evangelical doctrine; and while we have to be truly thankful for the doctrine, and its wide diffusion, we have to watch against the use which the devil is making of it. We are deeply impressed with the conviction that the self-indulgent, superficial profession of the present hour is paving the way for the dark and appalling infidelity of the future. We feel the urgent need of something far more profound, earnest, and whole-hearted. We want more exercise of conscience. We are not sufficiently penetrated with the genuine spirit of the gospel. The enemy has not been able to shut out the pure light of the gospel. The dark cloud of ignorance and superstition which, for many a long and dreary century, had settled down upon Christendom, has been rolled away, and the bright beams of revelation’s heavenly lamp have poured themselves upon the human mind and dissipated the gloom. We bless God for this. But we are not insensible to the craft and subtlety of the enemy, nor can we shut our eyes to the startling fact that evangelical profession without an exercised conscience, is one of the devil’s most potent agencies, at the present moment. The doctrines of grace are widely promulgated and professed, but instead of being used for the subjugation of nature, they are made to furnish a plea for self-indulgence. The evangelical religion of the day in which our lot is cast is of a very light and fragile texture, ill adapted for rough weather. We are inclined to think that were the Church to be again visited by the stormy blast of persecution, it would thin her ranks amazingly, but it would, doubtless, be the means of developing a veteran band of witnesses; for amid much that is painfully superficial, there is, we are persuaded, much that is real, solid, and true.
In one word, then, we urge upon the Christian reader the importance of honestly following the light communicated, and we use the case of the blind beggar to this end. Nothing could daunt him. Nothing could shut his mouth. His light could not be extinguished. When “the neighbours” inquired, “Is not this he that sat and begged?” his ready answer was, “I am he.” When they inquired further, “How were thine eyes opened?” he unhesitatingly replied, “A man that is called Jesus made clay, and anointed mine eyes, and said unto me, Go to the pool of Siloam, and wash; and I went and washed, and I received sight.” When they proceeded further to ask, “Where is he?” he as frankly replied, “I know not.” He neither lagged behind, nor rushed beyond, but honestly acted up to, his light. This is, precisely, what is needed. He had been brought into personal contact with Christ, and that personal contact formed the broad and solid basis of his testimony. This, we repeat, is what is needed. We should not go one hair’s breadth beyond the measure of real personal knowledge of Christ; but then we should act faithfully up to that measure. It is our happy privilege to have to do with Christ, each one for himself, and our profession should be the result of that personal dealing. We are in danger of being merely propped up by the influences around, instead of being sustained by the vital principle within. In the case of the blind beggar, the external influences were all hostile, but he boldly confessed the truth, and that, moreover, just in proportion to his own personal experience, and no further. He acted up to his light, and, we shall see, in the sequel, he got more.
Look at him in the presence of the Pharisees. These men, governed by blind prejudice, had deliberately closed their eyes against the light of truth. Instead of calmly sitting down to investigate the pure and heavenly doctrines of that blessed One whose voice had sounded in their midst, “They had agreed already that if any man did confess that He was Christ, he should be put out of the synagogue.” It was, therefore, obviously impossible that they could arrive at the truth, while their eyes were covered with the bandage of prejudice. They professed to see, therefore their sin remained. Solemn thought! “Jesus said unto them, If ye were blind, ye should have no sin; but now ye say, We see; therefore your sin remaineth.” The permanency of sin is judicially connected with the empty profession of sight. A man who knows he is blind can have his eyes opened; but what can be done for the man who thinks he can see, while, at the same time, his eyes are covered with the bandage of blind prejudice? Alas! nothing. The light which is in him is darkness, and how great is that darkness! These Pharisees could talk of keeping the sabbath, and of giving God the glory, and yet say of Christ, “We know that this man is a sinner.” So much for religiousness! A sabbath without Christ is a vanity. To talk of giving God the praise otherwise than through Christ is a deadly delusion. And yet thus it was with those poor Pharisees. They were disturbed by the testimony of the poor man. They would fain have quashed it. Most gladly would they have put the extinguisher of their official authority upon that dazzling, disturbing, detested light. But they could not. They tried to enlist in their service a cold-hearted expediency, as personified in “the parents;” but in vain.
The parents feared the Jews. They did not want to lose caste. They knew nothing of Christ, of His work, or of His Person, and they were not going to encounter obloquy or reproach for Him. They knew nothing about the marvelous cure that had been effected. “He is of age,” said they, “ask him: he shall speak for himself. These words spake his parents, because they feared the Jews.”
What a terrible snare is religious position! It is sure to act as a hindrance in the path of bold decision for Christ. If I have to pause in order to consider how such and such a step will affect my religious position, my influence, or my reputation, my eye is not single, my body is full of darkness, the very light which I profess to have, has become darkness, and I shall be an instrument in the hand of Satan, and a stumblingblock in the way of men.
How refreshing to turn from the dark background of prejudice and heartlessness, and contemplate the fearless honesty of the blind beggar. We must confess we greatly admire it, and long to imitate it. He did not know much; but what he did know he turned to good account. He boldly declared what Jesus had done for him. “One thing I know,” said this noble witness, “that whereas I was blind, now I see.” There was no gainsaying this. All the arguments of the Pharisee could not shake his confidence in the fact that his eyes had been opened. It was this that constituted the power of his testimony. It was based upon a plain, palpable fact. The man that sat and begged was now standing with his eyes open, and it was “a man called Jesus” that did it. Terrible fact! And yet the man was so ignorant; but he was honest. He told the plain truth and proved it in his person. He did not know much about Jesus. He neither knew who He was, nor where He was; but he knew and said quite enough to disturb the Pharisees amazingly. Higher and higher he rose in his testimony. The gross irrationalism of his enemies actually forced him into clearer and yet clearer light, until, at length, he breaks forth in these memorable and irresistible accents, “If this man were not of God, he could do nothing.”
It is positively quite a feast to read this record. To see an honest man boldly grappling with religious prejudice and intolerance, is something to do the heart good. Would to God there were many now-a-days formed on the model of this blind beggar! We know of no more powerful breakwater wherewith to stem the rising tide of infidelity, than the bold and vigorous testimony of those who have experienced aught at the hand of Christ. If such would only declare plainly what the Lord has done for them, and base their testimony upon what is plain and palpable — so plain and palpable as to be unanswerable, what power there would be! What point! What pungency! In the case before us we see that one poor ignorant man who had sat as a blind beggar was more than a match for the Pharisees and all their reasonings. He proved a most burdensome stone to them — so burdensome that they could not endure him. “Thou wast altogether born in sins,” said they, “and dost thou teach us? And they excommunicated him.” (Margin.)
Happy man! He had followed the light in simplicity and sincerity. He had borne an honest testimony to the truth. His eyes had been opened to see and his lips to testify. It was no “matter of wrong or wicked lewdness,” but simple truth, and for that they cast him out. He had never troubled them in the days of his blindness and beggary. Perhaps some of them may have proudly and ostentatiously tossed him a trifling alms as they walked past, thus getting a name amongst their fellows for benevolence; but now this blind beggar had become a powerful witness. Words of truth now flowed from his lips — truth far too powerful and piercing for them to stand, and they thrust him out.
Happy, thrice happy man! again we say. This was the brightest moment in his career. These men, though they knew it not, had done him a real service. They had thrust him into the most honored position that any mortal can occupy, namely, a position of identification with Christ. And only see how the tender heart of the good Shepherd was moved by the bleatings of this outcast sheep! “Jesus heard that they had cast him out; and when he had found him, he said unto him, Dost thou believe on the Son of God?” This is deeply touching. No sooner had the poor sheep been rudely thrust out from the fold, than the true Shepherd flew to his side in order to lead him up higher and higher still along that path which he had hitherto trodden with such a bold and decided step. “Dost thou believe on the Son of God? He answered and said, Who is he, Lord, that I might believe on him? And Jesus said unto him, Thou hast both seen him, and it is he that talketh with thee. And he said, Lord, I believe. And he worshipped him.”
This is enough. This faithful witness here reaps a rich reward. He had followed on, with plain decision, along the path of simple, earnest testimony for Christ according to his light, and as a consequence, he was cast out by the religion of this world. He was forced outside the camp; but there Jesus found him and revealed Himself to his soul, and the curtain drops on this highly favored man as a worshipper at the feet of Incarnate Deity. What a place! What a contrast to the place in which we found him at the opening of his history! What a career! First, a blind beggar — then, an earnest witness — and, finally, an enlightened worshipper prostrate at the feet of the Son of God. Happy, highly honored man! May the Lord raise up many such in these days of cold indifference and superficial profession! Oh! for an earnest heart, true to Christ — a heart that never calculates results, but presses on after Jesus regardless of consequences!