The Burden of Sight, October 18, 2009
Last week, we heard about the rich man whose wealth would make it difficult for him to enter the Kingdom of God. Today, our focus is much different. Gone from center stage is the rich man . . . instead, we find Bartimaeus, a blind beggar, presumably poor, seated by the roadside near Jericho.
Jericho was on a thoroughfare of sorts so it would have been a good begging spot. Last Sunday you might remember the article in the Independent Record about the problem of homelessness in Helena. The reporter had interviewed some of the people who beg at the roadside out by Wal-Mart. The article noted that there are better - more profitable - begging places than others and those who beg vie for those prime places. I do not know that Bartimaeus was homeless - but he was definitely in need and he had found a good spot - at the side of the road on which people traveling to Jerusalem would have passed. As Jesus and company walked past Bartimaeus, we can imagine their preoccupation. They were, after all - like many others - on their way to Jerusalem for Passover. Even more, Jesus had just told them that he must be handed over to the authorities, killed, and raised again after three days - all in Jerusalem. The disciples would have been concerned. Why go to Jerusalem at all then? Why now? Why not just go the other way? Can’t you just imagine their anxiety? They wanted some time to discuss these things Jesus. So, they were in no mood to stop and aid a blind beggar. There were always so many people in need anyway. Following them. Entreating them. When Bartimaeus cried out, they scolded him and began to move on to more important things.
But Bartimaeus refused to be ignored. We don’t know what he saw in Jesus exactly. Perhaps he had heard that this man Jesus had healed others for, to a person in need, healers were generally good news. They were hope. The text says he began to cry out loudly - Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me! Even separated by the distance of time and culture, we can hear the desperation, the plea - stop a moment! Notice me! Help me! I want to see again! And, Jesus stopped. The disciples stopped too. In a way, the scene at this point gets comical . . . can’t you hear the exasperation in those disciple voices as they say with a sigh - oh, boy here’s another one. Okay - get up, he wants you. He has heard you. From there, the healing happens quickly. What do you want me to do for you? Sight? Well, go your way, your faith has made you well. And from there, life changed dramatically for Bartimaeus.
But if we think this story is only about a miracle where a blind man of long ago was made to see, we miss the point. In Mark's gospel, the story of Bartimaeus is truly the story of everyone who wants to follow Jesus, to be a disciple. It is the story of each of us here. We are all blind in some way. We come here on Sunday morning to worship and because we long for so many things - peace, wholeness, security, physical healing, understanding, hope. We want to see Jesus. We want to follow Jesus. We want to deepen our faith. And, like Bartimaeus, we cry out. But God seems so busy and sometimes so distant. At one time or another all of us have sat with Bartimaeus. Begging with all our hearts. Some of us sit here today with a longing so deep and needs so great we hardly know where to begin. Have mercy on us! Are you there? Do you hear? Will you stop? Why, O God? Why me? Why here? Why now? There are people among us right now who would gladly go even to a Jericho roadside and beg if it meant healing. This is our story.
So let’s look at the text more closely to see what it teaches us about our story and the healing which is offered us as well. Besides the fact that a blind man was given his sight, two other things happen in the story that need our attention if we are to better see and understand this moment of healing.
First, after Bartimaeus called out and was told to come, the text tells us he threw off his cloak before approaching Jesus. A dramatic touch but, think about that for a moment. Isn’t that really a little odd? Most of us approach a new experience a bit more cautiously, clutching ourselves, claiming whatever protection we can find. Just think of the times you've watched a scarey movie and pulled a blanket over yourself or closed your eyes during frightening moments. I remember the day a bat got in my house. I did what every sane person should do at such a moment. I got under the table and called for help. Uncertainty tends to make us search for something to make us feel safe.
But Bartimaeus did exactly the opposite of what you’d expect when suddenly told alright you got your way . . . go on over there. Somehow, he knew the great secret. He knew that healing, while wonderful would have a cost. So, he took off his cloak. He took off the thing he had wrapped himself in as he sat by that roadside. And he left it there. Imagine the cloak as that part of each of our lives to which we cling, which protects us, hides us, keeps us from letting too much in, keeps us warm and secure - sometimes too warm and too secure, sometimes too protected, too insulated, too hidden. Being secure and protected is not of itself bad, except when it blinds us.
We are cloaked in so many things. Sometimes there are physical things but not always . . . more often we cloak ourselves in our prejudices, our formed opinions, our division of the world into who is good and who is bad, who is moral and who is not, who has the truth and who does not. The results of holding on to such cloaks are perhaps easiest to see in history.
The Christian missionaries who came to this country were cloaked in the strongly held opinion that the native people they found here were pagan which meant, separated from God. Too many missionaries brought Christianity without ever listening to the people they met to learn from them the truth they had about God. In many ways, the missionaries, though good people, were BLIND. They couldn't see the beauty in the people they met. They were cloaked in a way of seeing the world that blinded them to the goodness around them. I am willing to bet that all of us who have been involved in the lecture series this weekend, have experienced some moments where we found ourselves saying wow, I never thought of that! Christians have made assumptions about Jews and have acted on judgements that have done terrible harm in the world. We have also had a tendency to say negative things about ‘the Jews" in order to make Jesus look good - often forgetting that Jesus was Jewish from the moment of his birth through his execution by the Romans. We Christians need to do some serious cloak throwing if we are to better understand and truly follow Jesus.
Tanzan and Ekido were traveling together down a muddy road. It was still raining. Coming around a bend, they met a lovely young girl in a silk kimono and sash, unable to cross the intersection.
"Come on," said Tanzan at once. Picking the girl up he carried her across, over the mud.
Ekido did not speak again until that night when they reached a lodging temple. Then he could no longer restrain himself. "We monks don't go near women," he told Tanzan, "especially not young and lovely ones. It is dangerous. Why did you do that?"
"I left the woman there," said Tanzan. "Are you still carrying her?"
How often we nurse old wounds, cling tenaciously to well formed judgments and hold fast to the ways we’ve always done things. That’s not always bad, of course, but neither is it always good. Part of growing up is to learn certain kinds of blindness and part of maturity is to learn to see again. Bartimaeus knew that his sight would cost him something. How many times have we been in situations where we had the opportunity to change our opinions and didn't? To see something differently and couldn't - or wouldn’t? Sight demands something of us
Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on us. Jesus calls to us, just as surely as Jesus called Bartimaeus: come here. What do you want me to do for you? Answers abound. We want healing, peace, justice. We want to forgive. We want forgiveness. We want many things - good things! And then we hear the second question. What are we willing to change? How vulnerable will we be? What is our cloak and will we leave it behind? Will we listen? Will we grow? Dare we grow up?
When Bartimaeus threw off the cloak, he signaled something essential about getting healed. It requires something of the heal-ee. And that leads directly to my second point, my second observation about the story. It is what happens after the blind man regained his physical sight. After he was cured, Jesus said to him "Go, your faith has made you well." Go. Go back to your home and your family. Go. You are free. Go. He could have gone anywhere. Settled down in Jericho. Made a name for himself. Sold book rights his story. He could have gone back and picked up his cloak. Instead, the man immediately "followed Jesus on the way." And in this passage, remember, Jesus was on his way to Jerusalem - which meant, for him, betrayal, suffering and death. But, more precisely, it was the path of service. It was the path of giving himself for others. The way, then, that the newly sighted man followed, was the way of servant-hood.
The term "the Way" is also the one, we learn in Acts, that the early Christians used to describe themselves. They were members of "The Way." Indeed they were travelers on "the Way." For Christians in the early days, the way meant exactly what it meant for Jesus - the way of self-giving which would often lead to discomfort and misunderstanding and sometimes, even, death. It was that reality that was always so hard for the disciples. They were much more interested in knowing who would be on the right and left hand. Who would be rewarded? Who was right? They were like us. They liked their cloaks.
So, you see, the miracle in the story of the blind man was not only in his being given back his sight - which, by the way, was a great thing. But also great was the response of Bartimaeus who was willing to do what went with sight. He was willing to see, really see, and follow. Seeing is hard work. Following Jesus on the way is hard work. Are we willing to throw off our cloaks and follow Jesus on the way?
Benediction
Get up, Jesus is calling you. He is calling us!
Together may we have the courage to throw off our particular cloaks, and follow on the Way of service. Amen.
