Men Like Trees, Walking Text: Mark 8:22-26
Introduction: An Acted-Out Parable
We come now to one of the most peculiar miracles in the ministry of Jesus. And whenever we encounter something peculiar in the Scriptures, our first instinct should not be to smooth it over or explain it away. Our instinct should be to press in and ask what God is teaching us through the very strangeness of it. The Lord's miracles are never just raw displays of power for their own sake. They are signs. They are sermons in action. They signify something beyond the event itself.
Most of the time, when Jesus heals someone, the effect is instantaneous and complete. The leper is cleansed, the paralytic walks, the dead girl rises. There is no process, no partial success. But here, in the healing of the blind man of Bethsaida, we have a two-act play. We have a healing in stages. Jesus touches the man once, and his sight is only partially restored. He sees, but he sees men as if they were trees, walking. Then Jesus touches him a second time, and his sight is made perfectly clear.
Why the delay? Was the first attempt a dud? Did Jesus' power flicker for a moment? To ask the question is to reveal its absurdity. This is the one through whom all things were made. No, this peculiar method is entirely deliberate. Jesus is not just healing a blind man's physical eyes; He is providing a living, breathing illustration of the state of His disciples' spiritual eyes. He is putting on a diagnostic clinic for them, and for us.
This miracle is strategically placed by Mark right before Peter's great confession at Caesarea Philippi. The disciples are about to declare that Jesus is the Christ. They have seen the miracles. They have heard the teaching. They have some sight. But their vision is blurry. They see Jesus, but they see Him like a walking tree. They see a Messiah, but it is a distorted, earthly, political vision of a Messiah. They do not yet see the suffering servant who must be crucified. They, like this blind man, will need a second touch. This miracle is a prophecy of their own condition and the remedy for it.
The Text
And they came to Bethsaida. And they brought a blind man to Jesus and pleaded with Him to touch him. 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?" And he looked up and was saying, "I see men, for I see them like trees, walking around." Then again He laid His hands on his eyes; and he looked intently and was restored, and began to see everything clearly. And He sent him to his home, saying, "Do not even enter the village."
(Mark 8:22-26 LSB)
Intercession and Separation (v. 22-23a)
The scene is set with a simple request and a significant action.
"And they came to Bethsaida. And they brought a blind man to Jesus and pleaded with Him to touch him. And taking the blind man by the hand, He brought him out of the village..." (Mark 8:22-23a)
First, notice the role of the community. "They brought a blind man to Jesus." This man did not find his way to Christ on his own. He was blind. He was brought by friends, by family, by those who had some measure of faith and compassion. This is the work of evangelism and intercession. We are to bring the blind to the one who opens eyes. They pleaded with Jesus to simply "touch him." Theirs is a simple, tangible faith. They believe that healing resides in the very person of Christ.
But Jesus' response is telling. He takes the man "out of the village." Why? Because Bethsaida was a place of rank unbelief. This is one of the towns upon which Jesus would later pronounce a solemn woe: "Woe to you, Bethsaida! For if the mighty works done in you had been done in Tyre and Sidon, they would have repented long ago in sackcloth and ashes" (Matt. 11:21). Jesus leads this man away from the toxic atmosphere of cynical unbelief. This healing is to be a private lesson, not a public spectacle for a town that had already rejected the light. This is an act of spiritual quarantine. Sometimes, in order to see clearly, we must be separated from the spiritually blind influences of the world.
An Earthy Savior and Blurry Vision (v. 23b-24)
Now we come to the strange mechanics of the healing itself.
"...and after spitting on his eyes and laying His hands on him, He was asking him, 'Do you see anything?' And he looked up and was saying, 'I see men, for I see them like trees, walking around.'" (Mark 8:23b-24)
Our sanitized, 21st-century sensibilities might recoil at this. Spitting on his eyes? But we must resist the temptation to be Gnostics. Our God is an incarnational God. He took on flesh. He is not afraid of the messiness of the material world He made. He used mud to heal another blind man. He uses water in baptism, and bread and wine in the Supper. The spit is not magical. The power is in Christ alone. But the use of spit is a bold declaration that the Creator is using His creation, even the humble substance of His own body, as a vehicle for His healing power. It is a profoundly anti-spiritualistic act.
After this first touch, Jesus asks a diagnostic question: "Do you see anything?" Jesus, being omniscient, obviously knows the answer. He asks for the man's benefit, and for the disciples' benefit. He is drawing out the testimony of a partial healing.
And the man's response is the heart of the acted-out parable. "I see men, for I see them like trees, walking around." This is a marvelous description. He has sight, but not clarity. He can perceive large forms, light, and motion, but he cannot resolve the details. The image is distorted, indistinct, blurry. He is caught between blindness and true sight. And this is precisely the spiritual location of the twelve disciples at this point in the narrative. They see that Jesus is a man of power. They see that He is significant. But they do not see Him clearly. They see a blurry, tree-like Messiah, a political figure, a wonder-worker. They do not yet see the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world. Their theology is like this man's vision: true, but dangerously incomplete.
The Second Touch and Full Restoration (v. 25)
What is the remedy for blurry vision? It is not to try harder or to squint. The remedy is another touch from the Master.
"Then again He laid His hands on his eyes; and he looked intently and was restored, and began to see everything clearly." (Mark 8:25)
Jesus is not content with partial healing. He is not the author of blurry vision. He finishes what He starts. He applies His hands a second time, and the result is total restoration. Notice the man's role here: "he looked intently." The first time, he just "looked up." Now, with a measure of sight restored, he participates. He strains to see, he focuses, and in response to the second touch, his sight becomes sharp.
This is a picture of Christian sanctification. Our conversion is that first touch. God invades our darkness, opens our eyes, and we see for the first time. We see Jesus. But often, that initial vision is blurry. We see Him as a ticket out of hell, a self-help guru, a cosmic therapist. We see men like trees. But as we walk with Him, as He continues to lay His hands on us through His Word, through the sacraments, through the trials and triumphs of life, our vision sharpens. He performs a second work, and a third, and a fourth. He continually touches our eyes until we begin to see "everything clearly." The goal is not just to be saved from blindness, but to be restored to perfect sight, to see Christ for who He truly is, in all His glory.
A Commission of Separation (v. 26)
The story concludes with a final, curious command.
"And He sent him to his home, saying, 'Do not even enter the village.'" (Mark 8:26)
Jesus sends the man home, but with a strict prohibition. He is not to return to Bethsaida. This is not the standard "messianic secret," where Jesus tells someone not to spread the news for a time. This is a command of permanent separation. The man has been called out of the darkness of the unbelieving village, and he is not to return to it. His testimony is not for them; their day of opportunity has passed. This is a quiet, solemn act of judgment upon Bethsaida.
For the healed man, this is a call to a new life. He cannot go back to his old haunts, his old context. Having received his sight, he must now walk in the light, and that means walking away from the darkness. It is a picture of the Christian life. We are called out of the world, out of the village of unbelief. While we are sent into the world to be salt and light, we are not to make our home there. Our citizenship is in heaven, and our lives should reflect that glorious separation.
Conclusion: From Blurry to Bright
This strange, two-stage miracle is a profound encouragement to us all. It teaches us that God is patient with our spiritual blindness. He knows that when we first come to Him, we often see things in a distorted way. We see men like trees, walking.
The temptation is to either despair over our blurry vision, or worse, to become content with it. Some Christians spend their whole lives satisfied with a "trees walking" theology. They have just enough Jesus to be inoculated against the real thing. They have a form of godliness, but deny its power to bring everything into sharp, clear focus.
The lesson of this man from Bethsaida is to cry out for the second touch. We must come to the Lord and confess our blurry vision. "Lord, I believe you are the Messiah, but I see you like a tree. My understanding of your grace is fuzzy. My grasp of your sovereignty is weak. My vision of your holiness is distorted. Touch me again."
He is faithful to do so. He desires for us to see everything clearly. And what is it that we see when the blurriness is finally gone? We see what Paul describes: "the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ" (2 Cor. 4:6). The goal of our salvation is not just to get us out of hell, but to restore our vision so that we can see and savor the all-surpassing beauty and glory of our Lord. Do not be content with shadows. Plead with Him to touch you again, until you see Him clearly.