Progressive Healing
The line between faith-based prayer and a religious process is a line often crossed.
Mark 8:22-26 is the only place in Scripture where Jesus heals someone in stages. It's often cited by those who promote the idea of progressive or incremental healing, encouraging individuals to come forward repeatedly, believing that "God heals in stages." While the notion appeals to those who wrestle with unanswered prayer, its theological foundation is questionable, especially when this single passage is used to construct an entire doctrine.
The issue is not whether God can heal in stages; it's the theological and psychological tension that lies in elevating this unique incident into a prescriptive model for healing, thereby shifting the focus from divine sovereignty to a religious process. When Mark 8:22-26 is isolated from its broader context and employed as a theological framework, the danger is that it replaces faith with method, transforming the miraculous into a sequence of incremental works that may never reach completion.
This staged healing methodology does not align with the broader pattern of healing throughout the New Testament, where Jesus consistently heals fully, immediately, and completely. Why, then, does this particular event unfold in two parts? The answer lies not in a theology of healing, but in the surrounding narrative. The passage serves a deeper purpose—it is a living parable, designed to teach the disciples about spiritual blindness, not to instruct the Church on healing methodology.
This story is embedded in a three-part dialogue: the first and last exchanges are between Jesus and the disciples, and the middle is the healing itself. In the verses leading up to the miracle, Jesus rebukes the disciples: “Do you have eyes but fail to see? Do you have ears but fail to hear?” (Mark 8:18). He questions their understanding, memory, and the condition of their hearts. These are not random queries. They prepare us to understand the healing of the blind man as a physical illustration of “their” spiritual state. The disciples see, but only in part, and have some knowledge, but it's limited. Just as the blind man initially sees "people, but they look like trees walking," so too the disciples perceive Jesus, but without clarity. A fuller revelation is yet to come. This context suggests that the healing is symbolic. Jesus enacts the very process the disciples are going through—moving from partial vision to full sight. It's not primarily about the blind man; it's a prophetic sign to the disciples of their impending transformation.
This should caution us against building doctrines around this event. If we teach progressive healing based on this text, are we prepared to reproduce its details? Do we lead individuals outside the city? Do we spit on their eyes? Do we limit healing to just two stages? If not, we are selectively picking and choosing what we prefer when interpreting this passage. And if we take these steps literally, we risk reducing God's sovereignty to a system of religious legalism, essentially attempting to manipulate God.
The text includes no reference to prayer or the laying on of hands—it's a sovereign act of Christ. The blind man does not ask to be healed in stages, nor does he demonstrate faith as a prerequisite for healing. The healing occurs solely at Jesus’ initiative and for his purpose. One could argue that Jesus took the man outside the village to avoid a public spectacle or misunderstanding, yet even that is not clarified in the text. Most commentators, recognising the ambiguity of the passage, refrain from making strong prescriptive claims—and acknowledge its uniqueness and theological isolation.
If this healing had no greater purpose, it would imply either a failure on Jesus’ part or a deficiency in his power—neither of which can be affirmed without compromising his divinity. Therefore, the meaning must lie in its context, which many overlook. This passage is best read as a symbolic act within a larger story, not as a doctrinal statement about healing.
To be clear: this commentary does not limit what God can do. He retains the right to heal instantly, gradually, or not at all. The caution here is not against God's authority, but our tendency to take obscure texts and construct doctrine that serves our expectations. When we impose our agenda upon Scripture, we risk manipulating the miraculous and obscuring the intent of the text.
Rather than using this passage to validate a theology of progressive healing, it is wiser to read it as an illustration of prophetic insight. The general pattern of Jesus’ healing ministry is a more appropriate application. Healing ultimately rests with God, it's not ours to engineer. Faith submits to the sovereignty of God, not to the mechanics of a method. And where Scripture is unclear or silent, we would do well to refrain from building theological structures upon ambiguity.
As a guiding principle: where a verb, metaphor, or action in Scripture is unclear, it is best left to God to interpret—and for us to remain faithful to the broader, clearer witness of Scripture.
