By Bethany Riehl
(Editor’s note: This article is part 2 of a fictionalized account of a familiar story from the New Testament, specifically from the book of Mark.)
“Then the eyes of the blind shall be opened, and the ears of the deaf unstopped; then shall the lame man leap like a deer, and the tongue of the mute sing for joy…”
The passage from the thirty-fifth chapter of Isaiah came to me over and over, especially in the night.
Reports of the Healer came to us frequently over the next several days. I waffled often between being disappointed He’d moved on, and relieved.
What if I had gone and He’d not been able to help me? Although He had healed many who were sick with various diseases, cast out demons, and taught the Scriptures with authority, I hadn’t heard of Him healing anyone who was lame like I was.
“…then shall the lame man leap like a deer…”
How awful it would have been to go for healing, be full of hope, then be the one to show the limits of this great…healer? Prophet? No one knew who or what He was, exactly.
Although it had been years since jealousy had consumed me, I found myself angry that my friends could go and follow Jesus as they pleased. They would hear reports about where He was and go to listen, always coming back to share with me. But I wished to go myself.
I was tempted to tell them to leave me alone, but I was hungry for news about the Healer. And I was humbled at the kindness of my friends, and my anger quickly dissipated. I knew if they could, they would carry me to hear Him myself.
I was too afraid.
“…then shall the lame man leap like a deer…”
Just that morning, one of my friends returned to our house. My mother, as eager as I was for the news, had set a plate before him of unleavened bread and goat cheese she had bought from the market, and sat beside him, urging him to tell us what he had seen.
“I was talking to another man on my travels. He’s been following along and listening to reports about Jesus. He said that when Jesus had first begun to go about ‘proclaiming the gospel of God,’ He had gone to Nazareth and preached in the synagogue. He read this from Isaiah: ‘The Spirit of the Lord is upon Me, because He has anointed Me to proclaim good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim liberty to the captives and recovering of sight to the blind, to set at liberty those who are oppressed, to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.’ Then, He sat down and said, ‘Today this Scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing.’”
My mother gasped. I felt a chill run through me.
“What did they say to that?” Mother asked.
My friend shook his head. “They were amazed, but I think more so in disbelief. But,” he took a bite of bread, chewing too quickly. He choked a little, and nodded his thanks when Mother got up to get him a skin of water. “That’s not the most amazing thing. I heard that a leper came to Him, imploring Him that if He was willing, he could make him clean. He had already come closer than is permitted, but instead of sending him away, Jesus looked on him with compassion and told him that He was willing, then touched him and commanded that he be clean!”
The drop of my mother’s shoulders matched the sinking feeling in my chest. If He’d touched a leper…
“Then the Healer is unclean?” I asked so my mother didn’t have to.
My friend laughed, a high, wild sound. “No! Not at all. And neither is the leper anymore. The leprosy left him instantly. He was indeed made clean.”
“Impossible,” I said, shaking my head.
My friend turned to me, a glimmer in his eye. “Impossible? Have you already forgotten Naaman?”
“Yes, but Naaman went to Elisha, a prophet of great power from God. And even then, he had to dip himself in the Jordan seven times to be cleansed. You say this Man simply touched him and his leprosy was gone?”
He looked me in the eye, compassion softening his features. “Maybe He’s greater than Elisha; maybe at last the Messiah has come.”
“…then shall the lame man leap like a deer…”
Long after he left, I thought of his words and of the passage that haunted me nightly. I tried to remember every Scripture that told of the coming Messiah. And as the words written long ago washed over me, along with every report I’d heard of Him, a small flame of hope and belief began to grow in me…
He called Himself the Son of Man. Hadn’t Daniel prophesied of the Messiah, calling Him one like a son of man? Could that be what this Healer, Jesus, was referring to when He called Himself such?
I was restless all night, turning thoughts and Scriptures over and over. Yes, I longed for healing, but a more tenacious need soon came to the surface. A much deeper one.
If this man were Messiah, could He help me to be cleansed of my sin? Could He heal me so that I could work and with my own two feet take my sacrifice to the temple at Passover? Oh, how I longed for it. To be able to pray without fear or trepidation. To have every angry word I’d directed at my God over my legs forgiven.
Could this Man help me?
If He could cleanse a leper…
By morning, I had resolved to swallow my pride and my fear and ask my friends to take me to where the Healer was, however long the journey. My thoughts had been buzzing in my head all night, and now they were all around me, growing louder in their intensity.
It took a few moments to realize that it wasn’t my thoughts I heard, but instead the gathering of crowds, once again, outside on the street. I strained to hear what they said, catching only fragments of excitement until at last one voice clearly said, “Did you hear? Jesus has returned to Capernaum!”
Sweat broke out on the back of my neck.
“…then shall the lame man leap like a deer…”
My friends arrived soon after, their faces determined. I didn’t have to tell them what I’d decided; I simply nodded at them and settled back on my mat. I held tight with both fists as they lifted me and took me out into the street.
I fixed my eyes on the sky, fighting nausea as they pressed through the crowd, mumbling apologies but not holding back from their dedication to getting me to Jesus.
Hope swelled, fear grated, but faith in what I believed He could do simmered just beneath the surface. I focused on that.
My friends slowed before we reached Simon’s house. I lifted my head and disappointment flooded me. The street was packed! People stood on tiptoes, others craning their necks to see around those that waited in front of them.
The crowd shifted and for a fleeting second, I could see the door. The room itself was full, a dozen people at least, trying to push through the opening. I slammed my eyes shut, praying, working not to let my faith dissipate.
I opened them again and saw my friends before they all set me down and considered our next steps.
“Maybe we could just wait here?”
“Or we could send a message, ask Jesus to come to him?”
“Or…”
Something in his voice caused us all to turn. The friend who spoke was looking upward, to the left of the door. I tried to follow his gaze, but too many people were in the way.
But whatever he was looking at, the others saw it, too. I saw them grinning at one another before they lifted me again and backed away from the crowd. Before I could ask where they were going, my head lifted higher than my feet, and they jostled me violently, nearly spilling me out of the mat.
“Hey!” I grabbed the mat just as the two at my head grunted an apology but kept moving.
The crowds disappeared as they carried me up a staircase on the side of Simon’s house. Every house in Israel had something similar. It led to the flat roof, which was used for prayer, for sleeping on hot nights, for growing herbs. It wasn’t the first time I had been carried up a staircase, but excitement made them move quickly, carelessly.
“What are you doing?” I asked as they finally reached the top and set me down.
“Digging,” was the only answer they gave.
(Based on passages from Mark 1 and 2, Luke 4, 2 Kings 5, and Isaiah 35)
Bethany Riehl lives in the Treasure Valley with her husband, three kids, and a dog. She writes articles and fictional novels when she can, and her one desire is to point others to the love and sufficiency of Jesus Christ.
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