Today’s Gospel tells the story of the blind man who was cured because he believed Jesus could and would do that for him (Mk 10:46-52). We can reflect on what got him to that point. He yells out from the back of the crowd. Did he simply think he had nothing to lose? There was no better option for him, why not give it a shot? He’ll probably get kicked into the dust, so what, nothing new.
Jesus will respond if we turn to him simply out of desperation. But there seems to be more going on with the blind man – he shouts out “Jesus, son of David” and addresses him as “Master”. Despite not being able to see him, he somehow understands who Jesus is.
And there is more here than a story of individual faith. It’s also a story about inclusion and exclusion. This is highlighted by the choice of the first reading from Jeremiah, talking about the return of the people of Israel to their traditional homeland 70 years after being deported to Babylon (Jer 31:7-9). What is striking about Jeremiah’s description of this momentous event is how he characterizes the returnees: “Behold, I will bring them back … with the blind and the lame in their midst”. Remember, the blind and the lame weren’t just useless, they were worse than useless. They couldn’t work, but they were a drain on the society, they still had to be fed.
God is bringing everyone back, not just the healthy and productive, not just those we might choose to have in our new society, not just the valuable people from nice places.
Now we might accept that we can’t just wish them away, the inconvenient ones. But rather like the people shushing the blind man (or the lepers, or the prostitutes, or all the other undesirable types) we do at least expect them to stay quiet, not to draw attention to themselves, and stay on the fringes, ideally as far out of sight as possible.
But God brings them all to his kingdom. Those people are in the middle of our society, not on the edges. Can we accept that?