Jesus returned to the Sea of Galilee and climbed a hill and sat down. A vast crowd brought to him people who were lame, blind, crippled, those who couldn’t speak, and many others. They laid them before Jesus, and he healed them all. The crowd was amazed! Those who hadn’t been able to speak were talking, the crippled were made well, the lame were walking, and the blind could see again! And they praised the God of Israel. – Matthew 15:29-31
At first the people were trickling through the village, but now there are swarms of them descending like locusts, eating and buying up all the extra food to be had. They are on their way to see a teacher; a young Rabbi they hope will be able to heal them or someone they love. They come with their mats, carts, and slings upon their backs filled with lame, blind, and mute men, women, and children.
I have never seen so many sick in one place. They are usually hidden away to keep them and their families safe from ridicule and contempt. Everyone believes that being blind or lame comes from sin; either yours or your family’s. I have always wondered how I could have sinned before I was even born. Is that possible? But how could I accuse my parents? What could they have done so terribly wrong that would give them a son with a lame foot? Thankfully they love me, and didn’t throw me out on the street to beg or even die.
At least I can do some work as a shepherd as long as they stay in the fields close to my village. It’s hard on my family when they take the sheep to pasture in the upper hills. The other shepherds don’t want me to come because they say I go too slow and hold them back. I don’t blame them, but we don’t have as much to eat during those times. I know it is my fault. Would this Rabbi heal me too?
All my family and friends think I should go with this group and try to see the Rabbi they call Jesus. They say, “Zechariah, this is your chance. You should go and see him. Maybe you will be healed.” That would be a miracle for sure. Oh what a wonderful miracle that would be! It seems impossible, but I’ve heard story after story this past week about this man. They say he isn’t at all like the other Rabbis or Pharisees. He doesn’t sneer and stay away from the sick; condemning them for their sins. He actually goes to them, touches them, and then they are healed. What kind of man could do this? I’ve heard whispers that he is the promised Messiah.
Maybe I will go and see him. If I am not healed myself, at least I can see his miracles. No one will yell at me for going too slow, this caravan of people are all going slow. I’m glad we are close to where they say he is. I hope this throng of people don’t drive him away with their needs. I don’t know how one man could possibly meet all of these needs.
As we begin to climb the hill, I see thousands of people camped out everywhere. There is singing and praising God all over. A man runs up to me and says, “I can walk, I can walk! I once was paralyzed, but now I can walk!” Another woman is crying and saying that she can now see. There are parents clapping and laughing as their child is running around them with legs that have become straight. It’s true. It’s all true. He can heal the sick.
I start to make my way further up the hill where a crowd is pressing in. I think this is where Jesus is. Yes, there he is. I see him now putting his hand on a young girl’s head and looking up to heaven. He is talking to God and calling him Father. I’ve never heard someone talk so freely and intimately to God. Now the young girl is screaming, and laughing, and hugging the people around her, and they are laughing, too. She can talk! She’s never been able to say a word, but now she can talk.
I sit down on a rock not far from Jesus, and I watch as person after person comes before him, and he heals them; young, old, rich, poor. So many of them have much greater needs than I do, and there are so many. How can I ask him to take time to heal my foot? He is so busy, and there are so many more waiting for his touch.
His disciples are worried about him. They keep coming and urging him to stop and eat something, and rest. The crowd has been amazingly good; no fighting or pushing trying to get to Jesus. There seems to be such a peace about this man, that you have that same sense of peace when you are near him. It’s a feeling that everything will be okay. If he walked away to get something to eat or to rest, would that peace go away and the crowd begin to get upset?
The disciple they call Peter is insisting that he come away for a little while, and the other disciples are pushing the crowd back. Jesus smiles and says something to the crowd I can’t hear, and then they move away. Jesus turns and begins to walk a little way off, but then he stops. He’s looking straight at me. His eyes feel like they are looking deep into my soul. He’s walking my way. Did I do something wrong? Why is he coming over to me? Will he tell me he can’t help me because of my sin or my parents’ sin? He hasn’t said that to anyone else.
He walks right up to me. I nervously look at the ground at his feet. “Zechariah, why have you been sitting here all day, do you need something?” he says smiling. “Yes, Rabbi, but it is such a small thing, just a turned in foot. Surely you only have time for much greater needs than mine.” He begins to laugh, but not a mocking laugh like I hear so often from some of the men in my village. No, it’s a wonderful laugh; a kind of infectious laugh that makes me want to laugh, too, even though I don’t know what I’m laughing at.
I look up into the kindest eyes I’ve ever seen. Their warmth keeps me from looking back down. Then I ask, “Wait, how do you know my name?” He smiles and says, “I know all about you, Zechariah. You are worried that your problem is too small for me to care about, and so many others are worried that their problem is too big for me to fix. With God, all things are possible. What is the price of five sparrows—two copper coins? Yet God does not forget a single one of them. And the very hairs on your head are all numbered. So don’t be afraid; you are more valuable to God than a whole flock of sparrows.”
Can that be true? Am I really valuable to God? Jesus makes me believe that I am. Jesus puts his hand on my shoulder and asks me, “What would you have me do for you, Zechariah?” I take a deep breath and say quickly while I still have the courage, “Oh Lord, I really want you to heal my foot. I want to walk normally. I want to be able to work and help my family so my parents won’t have to work so hard.” I’ve said it finally; the deepest desire of my heart, the desire I haven’t allowed my thoughts to articulate because I’ve never had any hope that it could be possible. Now, looking into Jesus’ eyes, I believe it is.
Jesus kneels down in front of me, takes my foot in his hands, looks up to heaven just like he did before, but this time he’s talking to the Father about me. Right before my eyes, my foot begins to straighten out, and my leg begins to grow and even out with my other leg. Jesus looks up at me smiling, and says, “Why don’t you try it out?” I leap to my feet and start running up the hill. I can’t believe how fast I’m running, but wait, I haven’t thanked him. I turn and run as fast as I can back to Jesus’ side, I fall on the ground in front of him and cry out, “Thank you Lord!” He has me stand up before him. There are so many questions I want to ask, but before I can, his disciples come and urge him to come over under a tree where they’ve prepared some food for him. He walks away with them leaving me with a smile.
It’s really happened; I’m whole, not just because my foot is now healed, but because Jesus has done something in my heart. I’m as changed on the inside as I am on the outside. I believe he really is the Messiah. I can’t wait to tell my family about him. Even though I’ve been here for two days, and I should be tired, I feel like I can run like the wind all the way home. I pick up my pack and begin to make my way through the crowd, headed back to my village. I am stopped along the way by different people I traveled here with asking me what happened to my foot. Each time I tell them, the pain from all my years of being lame, all the teasing and taunts from others, all the struggle, it all slips away. It’s like I’m brand new on the inside, the old me is dead, and a new me is born.
As I walk home, I look up to heaven and thank the Father for sending Jesus to make me whole. I walk a little faster until I am running. I start laughing. That’s it, Jesus’ laugh, he knew all along.
Debbie's Perspective 
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