Commentary - Mark 8:22-26

Bird's-eye view

In this singular account, found only in Mark’s gospel, we are presented with a miracle that is unique in its process. Jesus heals a blind man, but He does so in stages. This is not because His power was somehow diminished, or because the man’s faith was initially lacking. Rather, the method of the miracle is itself the point. This event serves as a living parable, a physical enactment of a spiritual truth that Mark has been developing, particularly with regard to the disciples. They have eyes, but do not yet see clearly. They have a partial, fuzzy understanding of who Jesus is, but the sharp focus of the cross and resurrection has not yet been applied to their spiritual vision.

So Jesus takes this man out of the village of Bethsaida, a place He had previously rebuked for its unbelief. He uses spit and a first touch, resulting in a partial healing. The man sees, but not clearly; people look like walking trees. This corresponds to the disciples' current state of understanding. Then comes the second touch, and with it, complete clarity. This points forward to the full revelation that is to come. The entire event is a masterfully orchestrated lesson on the nature of spiritual sight, the necessity of Christ’s personal and repeated touch, and a warning against the kind of corporate unbelief that characterized Bethsaida.


Outline


Context In Mark

This healing is strategically placed by Mark. It immediately follows a sharp rebuke of the disciples for their spiritual blindness. Despite witnessing the feeding of the five thousand and then the four thousand, they are worried about not having bread (Mark 8:14-21). Jesus asks them, "Having eyes do you not see?" This healing, then, is a direct, physical answer and illustration of their condition. It is a bridge between their dullness and Peter's upcoming confession that Jesus is the Christ (Mark 8:29). Peter's confession is glorious, but as we see just moments later when he rebukes Jesus for speaking of His death, it is a confession made with partial sight. He sees Jesus as the Messiah, but he sees Him as a tree, walking. He doesn't yet see the necessity of the cross. This miracle is the key that unlocks the whole central section of Mark's gospel.


Key Issues


Clause-by-Clause Commentary

v. 22 And they came to Bethsaida. And they brought a blind man to Jesus and pleaded with Him to touch him.

They arrive in Bethsaida, and we should immediately have our guard up. This is one of the towns that Jesus had already pronounced a woe upon, along with Chorazin, for having seen mighty works and yet not repenting (Matt. 11:21). It is a town characterized by a corporate spiritual blindness. Into this blindness, some well-meaning people bring a man with physical blindness. Their faith is commendable to a point; they know Jesus is the source of healing and they plead with Him. The word for "pleaded" is strong; it is an urgent begging. They believe something can happen if Jesus will just "touch" him. This is a common feature in the gospels. People rightly associate the power of God with the physical person of Jesus.

v. 23 And taking the blind man by the hand, He brought him out of the village; and after spitting on his eyes and laying His hands on him, He was asking him, “Do you see anything?”

Jesus’s response is telling. He doesn't perform a public spectacle. Instead, He takes the man by the hand, a gesture of personal care and guidance, and leads him out of the village. The healing is not for the benefit of the unbelieving town. This is a private appointment. The means Jesus uses are earthy and visceral: He spits on the man's eyes. We shouldn't try to find some medicinal property in the saliva of a first-century man. This is not a medical procedure; it is a sovereign act. The spit, the hands, these are simply the physical conduits through which the divine power flows. God is pleased to use means, but He is not bound by them. The point is the direct, personal, and somewhat shocking involvement of the Creator with His creature. Then comes the question, which is the setup for the entire lesson: "Do you see anything?" Jesus knows the answer, of course. He is inviting the man, and us, into the process.

v. 24 And he looked up and was saying, “I see men, for I see them like trees, walking around.”

The man looks up. The Greek word here, anablepō, can mean both to look up and to regain sight. Here it carries both senses. He lifts his head, and for the first time, light and shape register in a meaningful way. But his report is confused. He has sight, but not clarity. He can distinguish moving objects and identify them as men, but their form is distorted, indistinct, like trees. This is not a failure of the miracle. This is the first stage of the miracle, and it is a perfect depiction of nascent spiritual understanding. We see something of the truth, but it's blurry. We know Jesus is important, but we don't grasp the full contours of His work. We are like the disciples just before this, seeing but not perceiving.

v. 25 Then again He laid His hands on his eyes; and he looked intently and was restored, and began to see everything clearly.

The solution to partial sight is not to try harder on your own. The solution is a second touch from the Master. Jesus again lays His hands on the man's eyes. This time, the man "looked intently." The fuzzy vision is replaced by sharp focus. He was "restored." The work was now complete. And the result is that he "began to see everything clearly." This is the goal of our sanctification. God begins a work in us, granting us initial sight at regeneration. But He does not leave us with blurry vision. Through the ongoing work of the Spirit, through the Word and sacrament, He continually lays His hands upon us, bringing the truths of the gospel into sharper and sharper focus until we see all things with heavenly clarity.

v. 26 And He sent him to his home, saying, “Do not even enter the village.”

The conclusion is as significant as the beginning. Jesus sends the man home, with a strict command not to go back into Bethsaida. The testimony of this miracle was not for them. They had had their chance. They had seen mighty works and had responded with unbelief. This is a quiet, solemn judgment. God is not obligated to keep performing for a hard-hearted audience. The man is to go home and enjoy his new sight, but the village is left in its chosen blindness. It is a stark reminder that light rejected results in deeper darkness.


Application

First, we must recognize that spiritual sight is a gift, and it is often a progressive one. No one comes to a full-orbed, systematic theology the moment they are converted. We begin, like this man, seeing men as trees. The application is to not despise the day of small beginnings, either in ourselves or in others. But neither should we be content with blurry vision. We must continually come back to Christ for that second, third, and fourth touch. We do this through faithful engagement with the means of grace He has appointed: the preaching of the Word, the sacraments, and prayer.

Second, we should take note of the personal nature of Christ’s ministry. He took the man by the hand. He led him. He touched him twice. Our salvation is not an impersonal transaction. The Lord deals with us individually, tenderly, and directly. He knows precisely what stage of sight we have and what kind of touch we need next.

Finally, there is a sober warning here about corporate unbelief. Bethsaida was a place of miracles, but it was also a place of judgment. It is possible to be in a place where the things of God are happening, to see the evidence, and to remain unmoved. Such a position is perilous. The command to the healed man not to enter the village is a picture of God turning from those who refuse to see. Let us therefore pray for eyes that see, and for a heart that responds to what we see with repentance and faith.