“I have been young, and now I am old, yet I have not seen the righteous forsaken or his children begging for bread,” Psalm 37:25.
Something had changed….
The dark bodies clung to one another, unsteadied and squinty-eyed. They were not very old yet bore sun-spotted signs of age. They fumbled. Slap! Titch. Titch. Slap! The younger tilted his left ear backward, “Help!” He offered his hand in the direction of the sound and waited. Nothing. Titch. Titch. “Aaaaya..” cried the older. He grappled to regain balance. His face contorted as the painful ripple reached his outer thigh. The sensation ended and he tapped his walking stick against the large stone that had impeded his path and troubled his toes.
The younger stretched his head to the left again and hollered, “Help!” He struck his walking stick hard against the roadside and threw his arm out towards the sound, “HELP!” A long black silence descended upon the 4 AM journey. The younger man left his hand suspended at the roadside and waited. A merciless Roman could remove it in half a second. He waited. A cold hand thrust itself underneath the younger's armpit and yanked the two link chain of blind men forward. It was not a kind act of charity, but, it was help nonetheless…
No legislation was made concerning beggars or begging in the Mosaic Law, though, God liberally enacted means of relieving and caring for the poor. In Israel, none were to be treated as a slave or a beggar. The possibility was ignored. Perhaps God had not anticipated our calloused response to the human mess….
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