The eye is the lamp of the body.
The blind are leading the blind.
The Light is standing in front of them,
Yet they’re still asking for a sign.

They know the words of Moses,
The prophets and the Law.
They search the sacred Scriptures,
Yet miss the One they saw.

They read the clouds and forecast rain,
They know which winds will blow.
Yet when the promised One appears,
He’s the One they do not know.

A withered hand stretches out,
Restored before their eyes.
But on the day of Sabbath rest,
They plot His demise.

They watch the darkness flee,
As captives are set free.
Yet they refuse to see the Truth,
And call Him the enemy.

The blind cry out for mercy,
And receive the gift of sight.
While those who claim to see
Clearly keep their eyes shut tight.

Who can enter the Kingdom
If those leading have lost the way?
They trust their bloodline and their deeds,
But neither one can save.

I shake my head in disbelief.
How could they not see?
But am I so sure I’m different?
Or is there a Pharisee in me?