There’s urgency. Jesus is moving quickly south along the Jordan Valley on his way to his destiny in Jerusalem-whatever that may be. He continues to teach as he journeys, stopping only as necessary. A crowd accompanies him, anticipating a showdown and the beginning of a new era with Jesus as king. 

The end of the 18th chapter of the Gospel of Luke has Jesus approaching Jericho, an oasis and the junction with the main road westward to Jerusalem. On the outskirts of the town a blind man sits, begging from the bustling traffic that passes by. Having relied on his sense of hearing for some time he recognizes the noise of a larger than usual crowd and asks what’s going on. “It’s Jesus, the prophet from Nazareth,” he is told. The blind man cries out, “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!” The crowd tries to silence him. He calls even louder, “Son of David, have mercy!” Jesus hears, stops and asks that the man be brought to him. 

With great delicacy, Jesus, unassuming, asks the man, “What do you want me to do for you?” The blind man answers, “Lord, let me see.”

This is a prayer that requires great courage. “Lord, let me see.” Do we really want to see? Seeing, truly, might very likely challenge us to change-the way we do things, the way we treat others, our selves, creation: the way we live. Maybe it’s a prayer we need to return to often. Once we see, we are responsible. We can no longer sit on the side of the road.

The first person the blind man sees is Jesus. And he chooses on the spot to follow Jesus on his way up to Jerusalem.

“Lord, let me see.”