WITH A MAN WHO KNEW WHAT HE WANTED (12 OF 15)
Scripture: MARK 10:51
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Great Interviews of Jesus (12 of 15)
With a Man Who Knew What He Wanted
Clarence E. Macartney
Mark 10:51
Would you rather be blind or deaf? One might say, "I
would rather be deaf than blind, for then I could
still see." But if you were deaf you would never hear
the sigh of the wind in the tops of the trees on a
summer evening, like the sigh of infinite pity and
sadness. You would never hear the breaking of the
waves on the seashore, like the voice of eternity. You
would never hear the matins of the birds or the voice
of the orator or the voices of the mother and her
little child or the whisper of a lover or the voice of
the great congregation uplifted in praise of the
triune God.
Another might say, "I would rather be blind than deaf
for then I could still hear the human voice and
communicate with my fellow man." But if you were
blind, think of what you would never see: the waving
blossoms on the trees in the springtime, the blue sky
and the sun rejoicing as a strong man to run a race,
or the stars and the moon at night. You would never
see the light in a lover's eyes; you would never look
on the ocean rolling as it has rolled in splendor
since Creation's dawn.
We are concerned with a man who was blind, and not
only blind but poor, a dark spot in the sunlight of
life, a sort of question mark on the wisdom and
goodness of God. From the darkness of his mother's
womb he passed into the darkness of this world.
Blindness has always evoked a degree of pity. Blind
men as they appear in literature are either very bad
or very good-bad like Pew, the blind seaman of
Treasure Island, or good like Nydia, Bulwer-Lytton's
lovely character in The Last Days of Pompeii. Blind
men evoked the pity of Jesus, for we know that He
opened the eyes of at least five of them: two others
here at Jericho, one at Bethsaida, and the man who
washed in the pool of Siloam.
It was springtime in Palestine, but there was no ...
With a Man Who Knew What He Wanted
Clarence E. Macartney
Mark 10:51
Would you rather be blind or deaf? One might say, "I
would rather be deaf than blind, for then I could
still see." But if you were deaf you would never hear
the sigh of the wind in the tops of the trees on a
summer evening, like the sigh of infinite pity and
sadness. You would never hear the breaking of the
waves on the seashore, like the voice of eternity. You
would never hear the matins of the birds or the voice
of the orator or the voices of the mother and her
little child or the whisper of a lover or the voice of
the great congregation uplifted in praise of the
triune God.
Another might say, "I would rather be blind than deaf
for then I could still hear the human voice and
communicate with my fellow man." But if you were
blind, think of what you would never see: the waving
blossoms on the trees in the springtime, the blue sky
and the sun rejoicing as a strong man to run a race,
or the stars and the moon at night. You would never
see the light in a lover's eyes; you would never look
on the ocean rolling as it has rolled in splendor
since Creation's dawn.
We are concerned with a man who was blind, and not
only blind but poor, a dark spot in the sunlight of
life, a sort of question mark on the wisdom and
goodness of God. From the darkness of his mother's
womb he passed into the darkness of this world.
Blindness has always evoked a degree of pity. Blind
men as they appear in literature are either very bad
or very good-bad like Pew, the blind seaman of
Treasure Island, or good like Nydia, Bulwer-Lytton's
lovely character in The Last Days of Pompeii. Blind
men evoked the pity of Jesus, for we know that He
opened the eyes of at least five of them: two others
here at Jericho, one at Bethsaida, and the man who
washed in the pool of Siloam.
It was springtime in Palestine, but there was no ...
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