Jeremy Robinson - The Didymus Contingency

The old man glanced up briefly, just enough to see Timothy standing a few feet away.

“Your son, the one that was blind, but now can see,” added Tarsus as though the information might be useful in identifying Timothy.

“He is our son…and he was born blind, as you have said,” the old man responded.

“And what of the man who gave him sight?” Tarsus asked.

“As for who opened his eyes, we will let him speak. He is of age; ask him,” the old man said.

Silas turned to Timothy, clearly frustrated, and yelled, “We know this Jesus is a sinner!”

“Whether he is a sinner or not, I do not know,” Timothy said with a modicum of patience, “What I do know is that I was blind, and now I see!”

Simeon jumped in and shouted, “What did he do to you? How did he open your eyes?”

“I already told you!” Timothy shouted, “And you do not listen! Why do you want to hear it again? Do you want to become his disciples too?”

Every Pharisee in the room gasped.

“You are Jesus’s disciple?” asked Silas, aghast.

Simeon interrupted, “We are disciples of Moses! We know God spoke to Moses, but as for this fellow, we don’t even know where he comes from!”

Timothy had heard enough and couldn’t stand to listen for another moment. He burst out with emotion, “You’re unbelievable! All of you! You don’t know where he comes from, yet he opened my eyes! We know that God doesn’t listen to sinners. He listens to godly men who do His will. Have you ever heard of a man born blind being healed? Have you ever? But here I stand before you, healed! If this man were not from God, he could do nothing!”

In all their years as Pharisees, not one of the men in the room had been spoken to in such a way. Silas leaned forward, his eyes twitching and said between clenched teeth, “You were steeped in sin at birth; how dare you lecture us!”

Grabbing Timothy by the back of his robe like an angry lioness to its cub, Tarsus dragged him violently toward the door.

Timothy crashed through the door and onto the street, skinning his knees and tearing his hands on small stones. A number of passersby stopped in their tracks and watched as Tarsus burst from the doorway and yelled, “This man is in sin! Stay clear of his wretched influence!”

Every soul on the street took a step away from Timothy and for the first time he could see the rejection he had experienced his entire life as a useless blind man. Timothy looked back. The eight Pharisees were moving toward him, fists clenched tightly. He saw his mother weeping into the chest of his father, who mouthed a single word to Timothy, “RUN.”

Timothy had never run in his life. He wasn’t even sure he knew how. But he had to try. If the Pharisees didn’t kill him, they’d surely incite the crowd to do it for them. He pulled himself up and stood to his feet. Just as Tarsus raised a fist to knock Timothy back down, Timothy surged forward, running.

Though in dire circumstances, Timothy smiled. Jesus had not only fixed his eyes, but also gave him the legs to run. He looked over his shoulder one last time and saw a growing crowd, led by the angry Pharisees beginning to pursue him. He prayed God would make him fast. He prayed to God to save him again.

As the sun lowered in the sky, Tom, David and Jesus walked the streets of Jerusalem debating as they now frequently did. Everything was fair game. The Jewish Law, morality, what is sin and what isn’t, and the natural world; Tom covered every subject at least three times and each time from a different angle. Whenever his point would be proven wrong or ineffective he would bend his statements to mean something else entirely, as he worked to find flaws in Jesus’s replies. Conversations like these were normally fast, intelligent debates that the other disciples either grew annoyed with quickly or could scarcely follow. The three decided it was best to take such conversations outside.

“I don’t understand why you don’t answer my questions straightforward, without all the riddles,” Tom said.

“Didymus, you are without doubt the smartest of the twelve,” Jesus said.

Tom wasn’t even flattered by the compliment. He just made a face that said, no kidding.

Jesus continued, “Yet you fail to grasp even the simplest answers. Why do you think that is?”

Tom didn’t respond. Jesus was talking in riddles again and Tom wasn’t going to play that game.

Jesus turned to David. “You understand what I teach. Tell me, what is the difference between you and Tom that he doesn’t understand, and yet you do.”

David thought for a moment and said, “Well, ahh, I would say…I search my heart for the answers. Tom searches his mind. I have faith. He doesn’t.”

Jesus nodded in agreement.

“Why not just make David the twelfth disciple?” Tom asked.

“How much more powerful a statement will it be when you come to believe in me?” Jesus replied.

“If, not when,” Tom said. “So I’m the challenge then? Make a believer out of me and you can make a believer out of anyone?

“Something like that,” Jesus replied.

“Well then, you’re God! Make a believer out of me!” Tom said with a sarcastic tongue, whipping the air.

Jesus looked at David with an amused eyebrow raised.

“C’mon, hit me with it!” Tom shouted. “Hit me oh Lord and I shall believe in thee-”

Whump! A man blindsided Tom and both fell to the ground in a sprawl of arms and legs. David and Jesus nearly burst out laughing, but moved in to see if the men were all right.

Timothy stood up quickly, dusting off his robe and apologizing quickly. “Sorry masters. Sorry.” He was about to continue running when Jesus stopped him. “Timothy, wait.”

Tom heard the name as David helped him up. He looked over and saw Timothy. As their eyes met, Tom realized that they were connecting; Timothy was looking Tom right in the eyes. Timothy was seeing! Tom nearly fell back down, but David held on tight. Tom later thought that his shocked facial expression must have been confusing to Timothy, who had never seen before, but right now, he was distracted by a sudden shift in Timothy’s eyes. Timothy was no longer staring at Tom. He was looking just beyond Tom, and his demeanor became that of a scared rabbit.

Tom followed Timothy’s eyes and saw a large, angry crowd, led by Tarsus, Simeon and Silas. Tom didn’t know who these men were, but they looked important. He looked to David, planning to ask, but kept his question to himself as he noticed David’s body language; David was stepping back, away from the crowd.

Jesus dusted Timothy off with a pleased expression, as though the encroaching mob did not exist and quipped, “Your eyes are working and still you walk like a blind man.”

“Sorry, Master, I-” Timothy said, as he tried to move away.

But Jesus held him still and asked, “Do you believe in the Son of Man?”

Timothy stopped trying to move. He stood still and looked Jesus in the eyes.

“Who is he? Tell me and I’ll believe,” Timothy said, having not yet recognized Jesus.

“You have seen him,” Jesus said. “In fact, he speaks with you now.”

“Jesus…?” Timothy’s face beamed as he recognized the man who had healed his blind eyes. “Lord, I believe!” said Timothy, as he knelt before Jesus and bowed his head.

Tom had little time to hypothesize about what had happened before he was snapped out of his daze by Jesus’s loud voice addressing the crowd, who had stopped only a few feet away, “For judgment I have come into this world, so that the blind will see…”

Jesus looked Tom in the eyes and continued, “And those who see will become blind.”

“Are we blind too?” Simeon asked with as much intimidation as he could muster.