Today’s Gospel is a story about eyes and sight. But it is also about hands and touch.

The word “hand” is mentioned three times in just four verses. The first is a mention of the man’s hand—which is presumably held by Jesus’ hand as the two of them walk out of the village together, away from the man’s fellow villagers, out to a quiet place. I imagine Jesus holding the man’s hand quite firmly. After all, the man couldn’t see the look in Jesus’ eyes. But perhaps he could feel in his hand Jesus saying to him, I will heal you.

The sensations of Jesus’ touch must have been particularly powerful for this man, as focused as he must have been on Jesus’ presence, as much as he must have perceived Jesus as a lifeline, a savior. No doubt the same gentle pressure with which Jesus held his hand Jesus now applied to his eyes. All of this holding and pressing and presence—it is an astonishingly intimate scene of effort and love.

Haven’t we walked that road with Jesus out to a quiet place, felt the grip of his hand when we couldn’t see the light in his eyes, felt his hands on our eyes and faces? I pray we have. I imagine us under a fig tree, just off the main road, outside of the village. Patient, focused, palpably present—healing us slowly and with love—until we too see everything clearly.