MATTHEW 9:27-34
IF YOU WERE TO RUN INTO ME at a restaurant, bookstore, football game, or dark alley at midnight and ask me, “Hey, why do you believe Jesus is the Messiah?” I would show you my right hand, spread wide my five fingers, and say, “There are five reasons.”
First, I believe Jesus is the Messiah because of his words. What he said, when he said it, and how he said it—with such authority, authenticity, and insight into both the mind of God and the human heart—has convinced me that “No one ever spoke like this man” (John 7:46).
Once God’s Word began to work on my hard heart, those words of Jesus—those seemingly ridiculous commands and those crazy claims about himself—“turned me.” They had the power to soften my heart, renew my mind, and free my will to know and love and follow him.
So, first, I believe Jesus is the Messiah because of his words. Second, and closely related to the first, I believe because of his verifiable predictions. I wrote about a few of these predictions in my chapter on the Sermon on the Mount (chapter 9). For example, Jesus said, “Heaven and earth will pass away, but my words will not pass away” (24:35). Now, if ten, fifty, or 500 years after Jesus said something like that, nobody spoke or heard of his words—e.g., the Golden Rule or the Lord’s Prayer—then I would say, “Hey, this Christianity thing is bogus.” If 2,000 years after he said something like “Judge not, that you be not judged” (7:1) only 2,000 people in the world knew who said that or had even heard that phrase, then also I’d think, “Ah, this Christianity thing is bogus.” But when millions of people, even those who don’t go to church, use Jesus’ words in their own regular conversations, sometimes without knowing it, that gets my attention.
Another prediction Jesus made that gets my attention concerns the Ecclesia. He spoke of the permanence of the Ecclesia—“the gates of hell shall not prevail against it” (16:18b), and he spoke of the scope of the Ecclesia’s mission—that the gospel would spread “east to west” and be believed by people from every nation (see 8:11; 28:19). Think about that claim, especially in the context of the first century. If we lived in the first century and Caesar Augustus predicted, “Roman rule will last for 2,000 years, and our way of life will have dominion over people from every little corner of the world,” we likely would have agreed. But we know now that is not what happened. Rome didn’t fall in a day, but it fell. And that is what is so remarkable. How could the Roman Empire crumble to the ground? How could the Egyptian, Assyrian, and British empires all crumble to the ground while this tiny religion from this insignificant Middle-Eastern people—keeps growing?
The third reason I believe Jesus is the Messiah (and forgive the long introduction; we will get to the blind men in just a minute) is because he fulfills Old Testament prophecies and patterns. In Luke 24:44 Jesus said that what was written in the Law of Moses, the Prophets, and the Psalms was all “fulfilled” in him. He claims there is a unity to the Bible and that he is the unifying figure.
The more I read the Bible with Christ-centered spectacles, the more I am amazed at how it all fits together. It’s not just the predictive prophecies—the Messiah will be born of a virgin (Isaiah 7:14), in the town of Bethlehem (Micah 5:2), or a Suffering Servant will atone for our sins (Isaiah 53)—it’s also the patterns. For example, the three key Old Testament offices—prophet, priest, and king—are but shadows of the real thing—Jesus!
Fourth, I believe Jesus is the Messiah because of his miracles. Now we are getting closer to our text and closer to what we have looked at for the last few tracts in the eight miracles thus far in Matthew 8, 9. Other religions might believe in miracles or allow for miracles, but our faith depends on them. Most notably we depend on the miracle of Christ’s resurrection. If Jesus did not miraculously rise from the dead, then our faith is null and void. But it’s not just that great miracle, for which I think there is ample evidence, that helps me believe. It’s also all the less spectacular miracles scattered throughout the Gospels. If we look at the summary sections of Jesus’ miracles
(we have one coming up in 9:35), we get the picture that Jesus healed thousands of people from “every disease and every affliction.” The fact that our Lord performed many miracles was not denied by the Roman rulers or Jewish leaders of the day. Even the notable Jewish historian Josephus admits that Jesus was a miracle-worker. No other explanation accounts for all the eyewitness testimony and all the interest in him.
But it is not just that Jesus was a miracle-worker—it is how he performed his miracles. He never showed off like so-called miracle-workers today do (he got rid of the crowd whenever he could). Moreover, he touched the untouchables - a leper, a dead body, the eyes of the blind. Why touch them? Why not just bark out some command from a safe distance? How he healed is significant, but also when he healed. He healed on the Sabbath, for example. He did this to make a theological point for sure, but also to show he had the power to heal however and whenever he wanted. It’s how he healed, it’s when he healed, and it’s what he healed—leprosy, madness, paralysis, blindness, even death. His resume is pretty impressive. He wasn’t healing sprained ankles, pimples, or runny noses, was he? What he did, when he did it, and how he did it not only was never seen in the history of Israel (v. 33), but never seen in the history of the world. Jesus’ miracles help me believe.
The fifth reason I believe Jesus is the Messiah is tied to this reality of Jesus as miracle-worker. It’s whom Jesus healed. However, it’s broader than simply physical healing; it’s whom Jesus healed spiritually. It’s the Lord of the Harvest harvesting lepers and Roman centurions and women and insane men and tax collectors and the blind and deaf and dumb. Put differently, it is Jesus’ compassion for both the materially and religiously poor—the social and religious outcasts of his society.
We are so familiar with Jesus’ compassion (a compassion mentioned in 9:36: “He had compassion for them”), and we have been so Christianized in the Western world with basic Christian ethics, that we don’t think twice about helping the hungry, caring for the sick, loving the loveless, forgiving those who trespass against us, or welcoming ethnic and economic diversity within the Body of Christ. We take the compassion of Christ and Christianity for granted. But what he did, not only in his death on the cross (which was the ultimate show of compassion for outcasts) but also what he did here in Matthew 8, 9, is unparalleled. No one in the history of the world showed compassion how he did and to whom he did. And it's that compassion that makes me exclaim with great joy and with conviction from the heart, “Truly this is God’s Son. Truly this is the Messiah. Truly our faith is true.”
Two Blind Men
With that long and thick foundation poured and now hardening beneath our feet, finally we come to the two blind men (9:27-31), our ninth miracle story in Matthew.
What does this story teach us? I’ll put it this way: what color do these two blind men add to Matthew 8, 9, this already colorful picture of Christ? They certainly add another bullet point to Jesus’ impressive miracle-worker resume. They show forth again our Lord’s authority over the effects of the curse in this world—everything from blindness to death. However, I want us to see that before they ever receive their sight, these two men add to our perception of faith.
You see, this miracle focuses on faith: “Do you believe?” (v. 28) and “according to your faith” (v. 29). To the confident but humble faith of the leper and the centurion, the immediate and obedient faith of Matthew, and the desperate but childlike faith of Jairus and the woman with the issue of blood, these two blind men add clarity to our definition of faith. Specifically, they bring clarity to three questions: (1) In whom are we to have faith? (2) For what are we to ask? (3) How are we to come to Christ?
First, In whom are we to have faith? Their answer to that question is that faith is in Jesus.
And as Jesus passed on from there, two blind men followed him, crying aloud, “Have mercy on us, Son of David.” When he entered the house [likely Peter's house], the blind men came to him, and Jesus said to them, “Do you believe that I am able to do this?” They said to him, “Yes, Lord.” Then he touched their eyes, saying, “According to your faith be it done to you.” And their eyes were opened, (vv. 27-30a)
Notice a few details here. First, the topic of faith is at the center of their conversation. In faith they call out to Jesus because they want to be healed. Jesus then asks them if they believe that he is able to do this. Note that he doesn’t ask, "Do you believe that I can ask my Father in Heaven for the power to heal?” Rather, he says, “Do you believe that I can heal?” And they say, “Yes, Lord.” The sense is, “Yes, Lord, we do believe in you and in your own power to do this.”
Jesus is the object of their faith. Jesus as the “Son of David” (v. 27) is the object of their faith. They are the first to use this important messianic term for Jesus. They are the first to see both Jesus’ royalty and also his fulfillment— that he is the fulfillment of the Davidic covenant. The first words of Matthew’s Gospel are, "The book of the genealogy of Jesus Christ, the son of David...” (1:1). Well hooray! Finally someone has caught up with Matthew’s line of thinking. This Jesus is the Son of David, the promised King (cp. 2 Timothy 2:8). This is the one in whom they have faith.
Despite what many people today think, faith is not some nebulous thing “I have faith.” Rather, faith is in something or someone. If you tell me you have faith in the philosophical notion that all faiths are the same, I’ll say “Fine. You’re wrong. You're not thinking historically or logically about things. But at least you’re admitting you have faith in something.” But don't give me this "I have faith in faith” nonsense, for whether we admit it or not each of us has faith in something. As believers we have faith in Jesus. Like these blind men, we look to him alone as the object of saving faith, for he alone is "the Son of David,” and he alone is “Lord” (cp. Romans 10:9).
So the first question these blind men answer is: In whom are we to have faith? Their answer is, Jesus, the Lord, the Son of David. The second question they help us answer is: For what? We are to have faith in Jesus, but for what? Answer: mercy. We read in verse 27 that “two blind men followed him, crying aloud. ‘Have mercy on us.’”
Obviously they wanted Jesus to have compassion on their condition. Blindness then (and even today) led to obvious hardships and usually poverty. The blind in Jesus’ day were almost always beggars (e.g., Mark 10:46). But more than that, blindness also had a religious stigma attached to it. In Old Testament times, while God’s people were to be considerate and compassionate to the blind (e.g., Leviticus 19:14), nevertheless, every example of someone becoming blind is in the context of their being judged/punished for sin (cp. Deuteronomy 28:28). Think of the Sodomites knocking on Lot’s door. They were “struck with blindness” (Genesis 19:11). Or think of the Syrians who were attacking God’s people. Elisha prayed to the Lord, “Please strike this people with blindness. So he the Lord struck them with blindness” (2 Kings 6:18). Or think of Samson and how his eyes, due to his sin, were gouged out (Judges 16:21). He died blind.
In the New Testament, although Jesus’ healing of the blind man in John 9 shows that blindness is not always related to sin, other texts like Acts 9:8 (cp. 13:11)—Paul’s temporary blindness—reminds us that sometimes it is. Sin always has consequences. Sometimes those consequences manifest themselves physically.
All that to say, there might be more to this plea for mercy than a cure for blindness. They might be confessing their sin and repenting of a sin or series of sins that has caused their blindness. “Jesus, have mercy on us—body and soul.” Now, if that’s not right—if it is only physical blindness on their minds—Matthew nevertheless wants us to think more spiritually. For like the paralytic brought to Jesus at the beginning of chapter 9, their biggest need and our biggest need—blind or not blind—is God’s merciful forgiveness of sins. Jesus didn’t die to make nice people even nicer. He didn’t die just to show us how to sacrifice for others. Jesus died to demonstrate God’s hatred toward sin and mercy toward sinners, sin-blinded sinners like you and me... and them.
So, who are we to have faith in? Jesus. And for what? Mercy. And finally: How are we to come in faith to Jesus for mercy? What should our posture be? We should come with a “hungering humility.”
Jesus passes by. They follow him, and they cry out loudly, “Have mercy on us, Son of David” (v. 27). And then what does Jesus do? For the first time in this Gospel, when asked for something he just keeps on walking. What’s he doing? Is he testing their faith? Or perhaps he is concerned that what they said—they called him “Son of David” (they are the first to call him the Messiah), while true, might be misinterpreted by the crowd—that he is some political messiah (cp. vv. 30, 31). Whatever the reason, he goes into the house, and they go in right after him. They sure are hungry, aren’t they?—hungry for healing. Like the father of the dead girl, the bleeding woman, and the four guys who tore off the roof of the house to save their buddy, these two blind men are “absolutely determined to get into the presence of Jesus.” That’s hungering humility! That’s gospel faith!
Having finally gotten Jesus’ attention, like the others before them in this chapter, they show faith in Jesus before he performs any miracle. Jesus makes sure of it. He asks them point-blank, "Do you believe that I am able to do this?” (v. 28)—that is, to heal their blindness/to have mercy on them. They reply, “Amen. Yes, Lord. Let it be so. Truly we believe.” And Jesus just eats up this hungering humility. In his own humility, he touches (!) their unclean, diseased, sin-infected, curse-laden eyes. ‘“According to your faith be it done to you.’ And their eyes were opened” (v. 30). And they saw (can you imagine it?) the light of the sun, the flight of the sparrow, the color of Jesus’ blue (?), green (?), probably brown eyes.
The "Disobedience" of Faith
Their eyes were opened.
The irony here, which will only build as we move to the next miracle, is that once these blind men see, the first thing they do is disobey Jesus (v. 31). In Romans Paul calls us to “the obedience of faith” (Romans 1:5; 16:26). These men show what I’ll label humorously, although it’s no laughing matter, “the disobedience of faith.” Just look at verses 30, 31. Here is how their story ends: And their eyes were opened. And Jesus sternly warned them, "See that no one knows about it.” But they went away and spread his fame through all that district.
I don’t want to spend too much time on what scholars call the “messianic secret” - why Jesus sometimes told people to be quiet about a miracle (and sometimes didn’t, cp. John 4). I think the reason for the command to be silent here involves what I hinted at earlier—Jesus is not looking for the fanfare that comes with the power to heal and, more importantly, he does not want the crowds and his disciples to misunderstand the nature of his kingship. He is the Son of David, but unlike David (and nobody will get this until after the resurrection) he has not come as a military warrior but as a sacrificial lamb. He is the Son of David, but also the Suffering Servant.
We can be sympathetic that what happens in verse 31 is natural enough. It was wrong because it was disobedience to a direct command. But come on, they were just helplessly happy, gleefully grateful. We’d all do the same thing. Right?
I actually think Matthew includes this verse as a subtle rebuke. For when blind they see. They see in whom they are to have faith, what they are to ask for, and how they are to approach Jesus. But once they see, they stop living by faith, which is always manifested by obedience to Christ’s commands (cp. 1 John 2:3), however countercultural and counterintuitive some of those commands may be. So, perhaps the point of verse 31 is that it is better to be blind and obedient than to see and disobey.
Too Blind Men
Whether I have that right or not, I’m not sure. I am sure, however, that I have this next part right—the purpose of the second miracle. Read with me again verses 32-34:
As they were going away, behold, a demon-oppressed man who was mute was brought to him. And when the demon had been cast out, the mute man spoke. And the crowds marveled, saying, “Never was anything like this seen in Israel.’’ But the Pharisees said, "He casts out demons by the prince of demons.”
After preaching seven tracts on the miracle stories of chapters 8, 9, I began to pick up on how these stories work. All of the miracles highlight both Jesus’ divine authority and power. “Only God could do that” is what we should think. And most of them demonstrate the nature of authentic faith.
This is how we are to respond to Jesus. But two of the miracles—the healing of Peter’s mother-in-law and the curing of this deaf-mute—are noticeably different than the rest. Faith is not mentioned in either account. Furthermore in the other miracles the dialogue between Jesus and whomever he heals is central. But when Jesus heals Peter’s mother-in-law, there’s no recorded dialogue. The same is true here with this deaf-mute. Well, you might say, “Umm, it’s because this guy is deaf and mute. He can’t hear, and he can’t talk. That’s why there is no dialogue.” That’s true, but there is more to it than that.
Here is my theory: when there is no conversation between Jesus and the person healed. Matthew is making some important point. That’s why that particular miracle is included. Now it is true that Matthew is always making points. But I mean that he is making some really strong point. You might say, “Okay, nice theory, but what’s the point then? What’s the purpose of this miracle?” The Pharisees’ blindness—that’s what this miracle shows. Here the focus is not on the faith of the mute or on the miracle itself. Little or no ink is spilt there. Rather, the focus is on the reactions to the miracle. The crowd marvels—“Never was anything like this seen in Israel” (v. 33). But what do the Pharisees do? They do something almost unbelievable. They don’t marvel. That’s for sure. They don’t believe. That’s for sure. Instead, having seen with their own eyes Jesus heal the leper, the lame, the blind, this mute man, and also having seen this man cured, they accuse Jesus of demonic activity, of working for the devil (cp. 12:24). Instead of remembering their Holy Scriptures—like Isaiah 35:5, 6 (cp. 11:3—5), which "predicts the healing of the blind and deaf mutes in the messianic age” and thus recognizing Jesus as the Messiah—they are blind to God’s Word and thus blind to God’s Son. Do you see that?
The centurion shows that Gentiles can see Jesus for who he is. The tax collector Matthew shows that sinners can also see him. And then, irony of ironies, even blind men see Jesus as Lord and Christ. But these Jewish religious elites are completely blind. The blind see, the mute speak, but the Pharisees speak out of their blindness.
This is why I’ve entitled this chapter “Too Blind Men.” That’s not a misspelling. The idea here is this: verses 27-31 describe two blind men who, although they cannot see, do see. They see who Jesus is! Then verses 32-34 describe another group of men, the Pharisees. They too are blind. They are too blind. Not blind physically but spiritually. Although they can see and have seen, they cannot see and will not see Jesus for who he is. They are too blind to see Jesus. And this is why Jesus will say of them in Matthew 23, “Woe to you, blind guides… (vv. 16, 24), woe to “you blind fools” (v. 17), woe to "you blind men" (v. 19), woe to “you blind Pharisees” (v. 26). And this is why he will say, after he heals the blind man in John 9:39, “For judgment I came into this world, that those who do not see may see, and those who see may become blind.”
Do You See?
What do you see today? Do you see anything? Are you blind (John 12:39, 40; 2 Corinthians 4:4)? Or do you see Jesus as the Son of David, as Lord and Christ? And do you see him as full of mercy, willing to be merciful even to you, to all who come to him with hungering humility?
The Lord opens the eyes of the blind.
The Lord lifts up those who are bowed down;
the Lord loves the righteous. (Psalm 146:8)
(R. Kent Hughes. and Douglas Sean O'Donnell., 2013; edited Carl Hinton., 2020)