A sermon preached at Covenant Presbyterian Church of Fort Smith, Arkansas on July 19, 2026.
As he drew near to Jericho, a blind man was sitting by the roadside begging. And hearing a crowd going by, he inquired what this meant. They told him, “Jesus of Nazareth is passing by.” And he cried out, “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!” And those who were in front rebuked him, telling him to be silent. But he cried out all the more, “Son of David, have mercy on me!” And Jesus stopped and commanded him to be brought to him. And when he came near, he asked him, “What do you want me to do for you?” He said, “Lord, let me recover my sight.” And Jesus said to him, “Recover your sight; your faith has made you well.” And immediately he recovered his sight and followed him, glorifying God. And all the people, when they saw it, gave praise to God (Luke 18:35–43).[1]
We often use the language of sight to describe understanding. When something finally becomes clear, we say, “Now I see.” Conversely, we may have perfectly healthy eyes and still fail to perceive what is directly before us. Such is the irony of our passage: a blind man sees what many with sight cannot.
In the preceding passage, Jesus took the twelve aside and told them plainly what was about to happen: See, we are going up to Jerusalem, and everything that is written about the Son of Man by the prophets will be accomplished. For he will be delivered over to the Gentiles and will be mocked and shamefully treated and spit upon. And after flogging him, they will kill him, and on the third day he will rise (Luke 18:31–33). This was not the first time Jesus had warned them, and here he could hardly have been clearer. He told them where they were going, what would happen when they arrived, who would do it, and how the story would end. But Luke tells us, “They understood none of these things.” To which he adds, “This saying was hidden from them, and they did not grasp what was said” (18:34). Though they had eyes, they did not yet see.
It is not a coincidence that Luke then introduces us to a blind man, who cannot see the road in front of him, but as we will see in our passage today, he sees more than most. Yes, he will cry for mercy, but he does so as one who sees Jesus not merely as a miracle-worker but as the promised Son of David. Yes, he is a man who desires to recover his sight, but he is also a man who sees his Savior.
He Saw the Savior
Luke begins, “As he drew near to Jericho, a blind man was sitting by the roadside begging. And hearing a crowd going by, he inquired what this meant” (18:35-36).Jesus is nearing the end of his long journey to Jerusalem. Back in Luke 9:51, we were told that he “set his face to go to Jerusalem.” Now he has reached Jericho, the final major stop before the ascent to Jerusalem and the cross.Along the roadside sits a blind man whose blindness has left him economically dependent upon the compassion of those passing by.Day after day, he sits beside the road and begs.But on this particular day, he hears the noise of a large crowd passing by.He asks what is happening and is told, “Jesus of Nazareth is passing by” (18:37).
This is a factually accurate statement: Jesus was passing by; he was from Nazareth. But to describe where someone is from does not describe who someone is. Though raised in Nazareth, it is hardly an adequate description of the One born of a virgin in the city of David, who in three short years had miraculously healed diseases, cast out demons, raised the dead, and taught like no one before. Which is why I love how the blind man responds to the news of Jesus’ passing by: “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!” (18:38).
The crowd gives the blind man Jesus’ hometown. The blind man gives Jesus his royal title: “Son of David.” It’s not flattery or mere manners. It is, in a sense, a confession of faith. God had promised David that one of his descendants would sit upon his throne and establish an everlasting kingdom. Through the prophets, God’s people had been taught to wait for this coming King: the Son of David, the Messiah, the Anointed One. And this blind beggar confesses, at the top of his lungs, that Jesus is that One!
We do not know everything this man had heard about Jesus, nor how fully he understood the prophetic promises. But Luke clearly wants us to see the connection with Isaiah’s promise that, when the Messiah comes, “the eyes of the blind shall be opened” (Isa. 35:4). The man may not have understood everything, but he understood enough to cry out to Jesus as the promised Son of David.
The irony is that this physically blind man sees Jesus more clearly than many who have functioning eyes. And Scripture teaches us that this is telling of our fallen spiritual condition. The apostle Paul explains that “the god of this world has blinded the minds of the unbelievers, to keep them from seeing the light of the gospel of the glory of Christ” (2 Cor. 4:4). This means that you may know facts about Jesus without seeing who he is. You may know that he was born in Bethlehem, raised in Nazareth, crucified under Pontius Pilate, and proclaimed risen by his disciples. You may know his teachings, admire his ethics, respect his compassion, and acknowledge his influence upon history. But saving sight sees more than Jesus of Nazareth. Saving sight sees the Son of David—the promised King, the Savior of sinners, the Lord who has come to redeem his people.
Paul says that the same God who once commanded light to shine out of darkness must shine in our hearts, “to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ” (2 Cor. 4:6). Salvation is then a miracle of sight. God shines into the darkness of the sinner’s heart, and suddenly we see what we could not see before. God’s grace enables us to see Christ truly and to recognize our need for him.
But even after Christ has opened our spiritual eyes, we remain capable of not seeing clearly. For example, the disciples had left everything to follow Jesus, yet they were still slow to understand the necessity of the cross. For this reason, the Christian should pray dependently for the illumination of the Holy Spirit. We should consistently pray that God would open our eyes to understand his Word, trust his purposes, and follow Christ faithfully.
He Saw His Need
When the blind man cries out, “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!” he is not demanding a deliverance he believes he deserves.He is pleading with Christ for mercy.We may hear echoes of his cry from the temple, when the tax collector stood far off, beat his breast, and pleaded, “God, be merciful to me, a sinner!” (18:13).The repentant tax collector and the blind man both understood how a sinner must approach God—not on the basis of merit but mercy, not with a résumé but a confession, not presenting their worthiness but pleading their need.When God opens our eyes, we begin to see our need for mercy.
But as the blind man cries out, those at the front of the crowd rebuke him, telling him to be silent.Perhaps they believe he is being disruptive. Perhaps they think Jesus has more important people to help than a blind beggar. (Perhaps they are Presbyterians and embarrassed by his shouting.)Whatever their reason, their message is clear: Be quiet. Do not bother Jesus.
This should remind us of when the disciples rebuked the parents for bringing their infants to Jesus. Jesus should not be bothered, they thought, by the weak, the dependent, the insignificant.But Jesus said, “Let the children come to me, and do not hinder them, for to such belongs the kingdom of God” (Luke 18:16). We come by faith like children and blind beggars, too.Let us remember this too that we never become so concerned with our own place in the crowd that we make it harder for needy sinners to come to Christ.
Although Jesus is pressing toward Jerusalem, he does not pass this man by. Luke tells us, “Jesus stopped” (18:40). The weight of redemption is before him. There, for the joy set before him, the founder and perfecter of our faith will endure the cross.[2] And yet Jesus stops for one blind beggar beside the road.
The crowd regards the man as an interruption. Jesus regards him as one he came to seek and save. In the very next passage in Luke’s Gospel, Jesus will say that the reason he came was “to seek and to save the lost” (Luke 19:10). Here he shows it.
Jesus commands that the blind man be brought to him and then asks him pointedly, “What do you want me to do for you?” (18:41a). We might think the question unnecessary. The answer appears obvious; the man is blind. But Jesus does not ask because the man’s condition is unclear. He asks because he intends for the man to express his need and exercise his faith. And so, the blind man answers simply, “Lord, let me recover my sight” (18:41b). He knows what he needs, and he believes Jesus can provide it.
Taken together—his address of Jesus as the Son of David, his plea for mercy, and his confidence that Jesus can open blind eyes—his words constitute a clear confession of faith. He believes Jesus possesses divine authority and power. He believes Jesus can fulfill the promise of Isaiah and open blind eyes. He brings a need that he cannot meet to the Savior who alone can meet it. This is faith.
To be clear, Jesus truly restores the man’s physical sight too. We need not turn the man’s blindness into an allegory and overlook the compassion of Jesus for his bodily suffering. Jesus cares for the whole person, and his healing miracles testify to the coming restoration of all things. In the resurrection, the bodies of believers will be raised imperishable, and every effect of the fall will be removed. But this physical healing also reveals a deeper spiritual reality. Scripture repeatedly uses blindness as a picture of our fallen condition. We are blind to God’s holiness, blind to the ugliness of sin, blind to our helplessness, and blind to the beauty of Christ. We can see the faults of everyone around us and remain blind to our own. We can recognize our physical, financial, and circumstantial needs while remaining blind to our deepest need: reconciliation with God.
And so, Jesus’ question likewise comes to us: “What do you want me to do for you?” How would you answer? We might ask for improved circumstances, restored health, repaired relationships, relief from anxiety, direction for the future, or provision for our families. These are all good things to bring before the Lord. But beneath all our other needs is one greater need: “Lord, let me see.” Let me see the holiness of God. Let me see the deceitfulness of my sin. Let me see the vanity of the world. Let me see the sufficiency of Christ. Let me see the glory of the cross. Let me see the certainty of eternity. Lord, shine in my heart and give me the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ.
He Saw the Way
In his mercy, Jesus hears the blind man’s profession and plea and so responds, “Recover your sight; your faith has made you well” (18:42). And immediately, the man receives his sight. Jesus employs neither medicine nor surgery, nor does he grant a gradual improvement to the man’s vision. He speaks: “Recover your sight.” And darkness gives way to light. This is the authoritative word of the Creator. The God who said, “Let there be light,” now speaks light into this man’s eyes. And the promise of Isaiah is being fulfilled, “The eyes of the blind shall be opened.”
But Jesus also says, “Your faith has made you well.” The word translated “made you well” can also mean “saved.” We should not build too much upon a word alone, but the whole scene invites us to hear more than physical healing. This man confesses Jesus as the Son of David, cries for mercy, receives Christ’s word, follows him, and glorifies God. Jesus has not merely opened his eyes; the man now follows him as a disciple.
Jesus is not saying the man’s faith possesses healing power in itself. Faith is not a force. Jesus, not the man or his faith, possesses the power. Jesus opens his eyes. Jesus saves. Faith is, rather, the instrument by which the man receives the grace of Christ.
Our Shorter Catechism defines faith in Jesus Christ as “a saving grace, whereby we receive and rest upon him alone for salvation, as he is offered to us in the gospel.”[3] Faith receives and rests. Faith does not contribute to Christ’s work. Faith receives Christ’s work. Faith does not present its own righteousness. Faith rests upon Christ’s righteousness. Faith is not the ground of our salvation. Christ is the ground of our salvation, and faith is the gift God gives that we may receive and rest upon Christ alone.
What, then, does saving faith produce? Luke tells us: “Immediately he recovered his sight and followed him, glorifying God. And all the people, when they saw it, gave praise to God” (18:43). He receives his sight, follows Jesus, and glorifies God. He does not follow Jesus in order to earn his healing. He follows because he has received mercy. His obedience is not the cause of grace but the consequence of grace. Until this moment, he had been sitting beside the road, but now he follows Jesus.
And where is Jesus going? He is going to Jerusalem. He is going to betrayal, mockery, suffering, and death. He is going to fulfill everything written by the prophets. He is going to bear the judgment of God in the place of sinners and rise again on the third day. The blind man now follows Jesus along that way.
Saving faith does not merely receive benefits from Jesus and return unchanged to the roadside. Saving faith follows Christ. We do not come to Jesus merely for improved circumstances, emotional comfort, physical healing, or assistance with the life we have already chosen. We come to Jesus as Lord. He opens our eyes so that we might follow him. And following Jesus means following him along the way of the cross. It means denying ourselves, taking up our cross daily, and walking in obedience. It means trusting him when the road is difficult, when his providence is mysterious, and when discipleship is costly.
The Christian life is not the way of self-salvation or self-indulgence. It is the way of grateful, grace-enabled discipleship. We follow because we have seen the Savior. We obey because we have received mercy. We glorify God because our darkness has been overcome by his light.
What, then, did the blind man see? He saw the Savior, the promised Son of David, the King who had come to save. He saw his need, crying out for mercy with nothing in his hands and no righteousness of his own. And he saw the way, the way of faith, discipleship, the cross, and the glory of God.
And now the question comes to us: Do we see? Do we see Jesus as the promised King and the only Savior of sinners? Do we see ourselves as beggars who can plead nothing but mercy? And, having received mercy, are we following him along the way? Do not allow pride to silence you. Do not allow shame to drive you away. Cry out, “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me.” The Savior who stopped for this blind beggar is the Savior who continued to Jerusalem, gave his life for sinners, and rose again so that those who once walked in darkness might see, follow, and glorify God.
[1] Unless referenced otherwise, all Scripture quotations are from The Holy Bible, English Standard Version
(Wheaton: Crossway Bibles, 2001).
[2] Heb. 12:2
[3] Westminster Shorter Catechism Q. 86, https://www.pcaac.org/wp-content/uploads/2019/11/
ShorterCatechismwithScriptureProofs.pdf
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