Luke 18:31-43
A few months ago, my almost two-year-old toddler began to cry as I bucked him into his highchair at a restaurant. He normally does well in these settings, but on this day, he wasn’t in the mood. Thankfully, his outburst was short-lived. As my wife and I settled into our table, I noticed two adults glaring at us. Their faces were a mixture of displeasure and disdain as they muttered complaints to one another about our child’s “disruptive behavior.” Their opinion of him was quite clear: he was a nuisance; he needed to be quiet; he didn’t belong there.
Luke 18:31-43 shows the implications of God’s mercy through the faithfulness of a persistent, unnamed man. The text also challenges us to a deeper vision and understanding of who Jesus is.
Earlier in Luke 18, Jesus, for a third time, foretells his impending death and resurrection, making a connection between himself and the prophecies surrounding the Son of Man, a messianic title Jesus uses throughout Luke’s Gospel (vv. 31-34). As is characteristic of the disciples throughout Scripture, they do not understand Jesus’ teachings. These 12 individuals, who have a front-row seat to Jesus’ ministry of teaching, healing, and proclaiming the good news for years, still do not see Jesus.
The disciples’ lack of perception is contrasted by the blind beggar’s accurate perception of Jesus. He rightly understands Jesus as an agent of mercy, one who could save and heal him. The blind beggar recognizes God’s redemptive movement in the world through Jesus’ presence. This story placement creates a sense of irony, in which the only person who truly sees Jesus is a visually impaired man. In the first century, blindness carried significant cultural and religious stigma because it was considered divine judgment for sin. We see examples of this belief in other parts of Scripture, like John 9. Although not explicitly stated, it is fair to assume this man experienced social and religious marginalization from his community because of his physical disability.
Perhaps this is why when the blind man begins to shout, the immediate impulse of the crowd is to silence him (v. 39). Who does he think he is commanding the attention of a renowned figure like Jesus? Does he not know his place? He needs to sit quietly where he belongs — on the margins.
Despite the crowd’s attempts to stifle his voice, the blind beggar boldly proclaims Jesus’ identity as the “Son of David” (vv. 38-39). This is another messianic title that alludes to Jesus’ genealogy, which runs through the line of David. Moreover, this title places the marginalized man under the direct authority of Jesus as the Davidic ruler of the Jewish people. By healing him, Jesus not only fulfills one of the signs associated with the Messiah (Luke 4:18) but also enacts a dramatic repudiation of the cultural and religious stigmas of the time. This man is not consigned to God’s judgment; on the contrary, God’s mercy supersedes any perceived notions of judgment through the healing activities of the Son of David. It is the blind beggar’s faith in God’s ability to rescue him that ultimately saves him.
This lesson falls on December 29, the first Sunday after Christmas. To me, this story serves as a continuation of the expectant longing we experience during the season of Advent. Like the blind beggar, we yearn to see God’s mercy made real in Jesus and rejoice that it is good news for all people. This man’s faithful witness also pushes us to ask honest questions: Do we fully appreciate the disruptive power of God’s mercy in the world? Or do we find ourselves, like the crowd in Jericho, silencing those we deem unworthy of the Son of David?
I am reminded of a quote from lawyer and social justice activist Bryan Stevenson’s seminal work Just Mercy: A Story of Justice and Redemption. Through his legal work advocating for the poor, the disenfranchised, and the incarcerated, particularly those who were wrongly convicted and sentenced to death row, Stevenson comes to a startling realization: “The power of just mercy is that it belongs to the undeserving. It’s when mercy is least expected that it’s most potent.”
Luke 18:31-43 reminds us that the mercy extended to us through Christ is an undeserved gift from a loving and gracious God. If we are willing to embrace this truth with a spirit of humility and vulnerability, perhaps we will not be so quick to silence the cries of the most vulnerable in our midst. Maybe we will come to realize that the blind beggar’s cries for mercy are not just for “other people” in situations of need, but represent the cries of our own hearts, too. Whether it is a cranky toddler in a restaurant, someone struggling with food insecurity, or an individual clothed in the trappings of respectability and success, we all have a shared need to receive and extend mercy. In so doing, we come to see our Savior and the work we are called to do as disciples of Jesus, more clearly.
Discussion questions for Luke 18:31-43
- Think back on a moment in your life when you received or extended mercy. What was significant about that experience? How might it connect with God’s mercy toward us?
- What voices from the margins do we tend to silence? How can their persistent witness, even to the point of annoyance, help us better understand God’s mercy? How can their perspectives help us see Jesus and his mission for the world more clearly?
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