October 27, 2024 ~ 23rd Sunday after Pentecost
Rev. Beckie Sweet
The story of Blind Bartimaeus acts as a bookend in Mark’s gospel. It closes out a long section that began back in chapter eight, when Jesus healed another blind man – only that time, Jesus had to lay hands on him twice before the man could see clearly. But this whole section has come to its climax here in chapter 10, where we’ve been walking with Jesus this month. The itinerary Jesus and his disciples have been following, as they travel from Galilee to Jerusalem has been very eventful!
They start off on this 85-mile journey, stopping outside Capernaum long enough for Jesus to teach, and welcome children who came to him. But they are soon on the road again, when they run into the rich young ruler, and Jesus tells them how difficult it will be for the wealthy to enter the kin-dom of heaven.
As if that weren’t upsetting enough to his disciples, Jesus goes on to explain – for the third time since that first blind man was healed – how he will be arrested, beaten, and killed, once they get to Jerusalem. But on toward Jerusalem they go, and along the way, James and John ask a special favor of Jesus – which doesn’t make them very popular with the other disciples – and Jesus takes the opportunity to teach them how those who would be great must become servants of all.
In the span of forty-five verses, we’ve travelled from Capernaum to Jericho, just 15 miles from Jerusalem. This is where we finally meet the blind son of Timaeus, begging beside the road. This is, quite literally, the turning point. Jericho is where one would stop going south and head west, back over the Jordan River. The disciples and Jesus are about a day and a half away from Jerusalem. The only thing that lies between Jericho and the Holy City, is the Valley of the Shadow of Death. They have just made the turn, and come through the city of Jericho, when they meet the blind beggar, Bartimaeus.
It is helpful to keep in mind that begging is not addressed in Talmudic law. There is no Hebrew word for beggar in the Old Testament. When we see that word in our English translations, it usually stands for the Hebrew word that means a “wanderer or vagabond who asks for bread.” Jewish law didn’t address begging, because there should have been no need for it. If people took care of their needy family members the way the Law instructed, no one would need to beg. Yet, here we have a blind beggar on the edge of the road. And he knows something the disciples closest to Jesus apparently don’t know yet. He knows who Jesus really is!
Now, elsewhere in the gospel of Mark, Jesus calls himself Son of Man (15X). When Bartimaeus calls him Son of David, he is both dead right, and dead wrong. He understands that title to mean Jesus is Messiah, but Bartimaeus is thinking of a political or military conqueror. He also knows that Jesus has the authority and power to heal. And healing is what Bartimaeus wants.
He doesn’t want a handout. He doesn’t want pity. The rich young man wanted eternal life; James and John wanted glory. But this guy, blind and parked on the roadside, wants only mercy. He doesn’t even specify the nature of the mercy until Jesus puts the question to him plainly. He wants to see again!
Bartimaeus knows he cannot solve his own problem, but he knows that begging only meets the superficial needs of his poverty. It doesn’t address the root cause of that poverty – his blindness. He knows he needs a fundamental change. And the only thing that stands between Bartimaeus and the healing power of Jesus is … the disciples.
Think for a moment. It’s the people crowding around Jesus as he leaves Jericho who discourage Bartimaeus from calling out to be healed. It’s the closest followers of Jesus who tell Bartimaeus to be quiet, to leave the Master alone. The very same people who want to be closest to Jesus are the ones who are keeping others away from him, even the families who were seeking a blessing for their children.
These good church people – folks like us – are just trying to keep the “riffraff” out. These good church people – folks just like us – only want the best for Jesus. They don’t want him to be pestered by a noisy, bothersome blind man who is creating a traffic jam there in the road. More than that, they don’t want to think about giving up their own spot near the Master, so that someone else can get near to him.
But notice what Jesus does? He stops walking. He stands still. He looks beyond the crowd pressing around him, and makes room for one more. He says, “Call him over here.” The disciples, who see themselves as Jesus’ most loyal followers, who just asked him to let them sit next to him in glory, these faithful few who were shushing Bartimaeus moments ago – they suddenly have to act as if they care.
When Jesus says, “Call him over here,” he is reminding the disciples that following means inviting others to follow. It means welcoming others into the group. It means making room for someone who was an outsider, and inviting that person to become an insider.
When Bartimaeus learns that Jesus is calling him, he hurries toward Jesus, who asked the simple question, “What do you want me to do for you?” What makes this remarkable is the fact that Jesus had just asked the same question of James and John, when they asked if they could sit at his right and left in the kin-dom. And isn’t it interesting that James and John pull Jesus aside so others won’t hear them ask for places of honor? But the outcast blind beggar Bartimaeus hollers out loud for mercy, and he doesn’t care who hears his cry.
After hearing the question, Bartimaeus gets right to the point: “Teacher, I want to see again.” Bartimaeus shows humility; his request is simple. He wants his eyesight back. Unlike the man who was born blind, Bartimaeus remembers what it was like to be able to see. He knows what he’s been missing.
Do we know what we’ve been missing? In what ways are we “blind” to God’s kin-dom? How have we lost our vision? How do our ideas of “who belongs in church” prevent us from seeing the Bartimaeuses around us, the people on the margins who want to be healed by God’s mercy? As we become annoyed by the cries of the needy, calloused due to their frequency, does our vision of God’s kin-dom dim so that we no longer see as Jesus sees? When Jesus calls us over, what will we ask him to do for us? Are we bold enough, humble enough to ask, “Lord, let us see again? Let us speak again? Let us serve again?”
Jesus tells Bartimaeus to GO, for his faith has healed him. But this time the one being told to GO doesn’t go back or go away. He follows Jesus on the way. His faith not only healed him. His faith is also directing his path into the future with Jesus. There’s room for one more, after all. The disciples might have been keeping others away from Jesus in their efforts to get as close to him as possible. But Jesus always welcomes one more person who wants to be fundamentally changed.
May we have ears to hear, and eyes to see, that there is room enough, glory enough, and mercy enough for all of us. Amen.