DATE: October 28, 20121
SCRIPTURE:
Mark 10: 46–52
©Alison J. Buttrick Patton
Seabury Center
Mark 10: 46–52
46 They came to Jericho. As he and his disciples and a large crowd were leaving Jericho, Bartimaeus son of Timaeus, a blind beggar, was sitting by the roadside. 47 When he heard that it was Jesus of Nazareth, he began to shout out and say, “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!” 48 Many sternly ordered him to be quiet, but he cried out even more loudly, “Son of David, have mercy on me!” 49 Jesus stood still and said, “Call him here.” And they called the blind man, saying to him, “Take heart; get up, he is calling you.” 50 So throwing off his cloak, he sprang up and came to Jesus. 51 Then Jesus said to him, “What do you want me to do for you?” The blind man said to him, “My teacher, let me see again.” 52 Jesus said to him, “Go; your faith has made you well.” Immediately he regained his sight and followed him on the way.
When I think about it, I find it remarkable that Bartimaeus called out to Jesus, remarkable that he found the where-with-all to shout out as Jesus passed by… Bartimaeus was a blind man, which means he was permanently unemployed. No disability check. No Medicaid. No means by which to support himself, probably homeless, possibly friendless. In that time and place, to be physically disabled was to be cast to the margins of society, devalued, dismissed …It was to depend on the charity of people who looked on you with disdain.
Imagine the stress: Imagine the shame of sitting by the road, in the dust, outside the gates of the city, knowing that all who pass regard you with contempt — if they regard you at all. “What do you suppose he did, to deserve such a fate?” “What sin did he commit?” “Such a disgrace!” Imagine how tempting it would be to withdraw into yourself and hide from the world. It’s remarkable that he called out at all…
Of course, Bartimaeus had heard of Jesus. You couldn’t help hear about him. Bartimaeus’ eyes might have been shot, but his hearing was perfectly fine. And word traveled fast around town. So by the time Jesus and his followers left Jericho, even a blind, unemployed, forgotten beggar on the outskirts of town had heard tell of that man Jesus and the wonders he had performed.
But what use did Bartimaeus have for wonder-workers or fantastic stories about magical healings? He’d learned long ago not to put too much stock in lofty promises. He’d been disappointed too many times. And didn’t it take all he had just to get through the day, to fight off the depression, beg a few coins, find his next meal… It’s a wonder he didn’t just lay low, hunker down over his cup and wait for the crowd to pass.
It’s what I might have done. Most of us, when we’re stressed, get a bit tunnel-visioned, don’t we? Unable to see beyond our own troubles, beyond the offending, empty cup that we clutch in our hands. The Rev. Frank Thomas, of Mississippi Boulevard Christian Church, in Memphis, TN, once observed that anxiety locks up imagination. Isn’t that the truth? When we’re anxious, we see only the trial at hand: We turn grim (lose our sense of humor!); our shoulders grow tense; our breath gets shallow and our vision narrows, like we’ve sprouted blinders. We become, most of us, lousy problem solvers.
“There are an infinite number of solutions to what you are worried about,” says Rev. Thomas, “You just can’t see them when you are anxious.”
And Bartimaeus had good reason to be anxious. Yet somehow, he managed to unlock his imagination. Somehow, as he sat there on the curb that day, he was able to envision the possibility that one rule-changing rabbi named Jesus might just be a game-changer. Somehow, he found the where-with-all to take a break from his worries and take a chance on that wonder-worker. Take a chance that this was no snake-oil salesman, but the genuine article. He shouted out. Twice.
Of course, the crowd tried to shush him. The way they had shushed the children; the way they had shushed a woman suffering from hemorrhages, as she reached out to touch his cloak; they way that insiders too often shush those outside the halls of power, those congregated along the curb. Maybe the crowd thought they were protecting Jesus; maybe they wanted to keep him for themselves or maybe they worried that their own image might be tarnished if they were seen in the company of a blind man… (How quickly we forget, because of course that whole crowd of followers was filled with cast-outs and cast-offs; society’s misfits, people in need of healing – like we are ALL in need of healing…How quickly we can forget, once we’ve discovered some measure of health and wholeness, what it is like to live life on the curb…).
So the crowd tried to shush him, but that didn’t stop Bartimaeus, because something had ignited a tiny flame in his imagination. And the fire in his voice stopped Jesus in his tracks. He called Bartimaeus over. “What do you want me to do for you?” he asked. “My teacher,” answered Bartimaeus, “Let me see again.” “Your faith has made you whole,” Jesus said. And immediately Bartimaeus regained his sight and followed Jesus on the way.
So what ignited that spark? What was it that shook Bartimaeus out of his revere and knocked off his blinders?
What did Blind Bartimaeus see? Something the others missed. Something the disciples never quite managed to grasp. Something spied not with the naked eye, but with the heart: A vision of abundant life, of life lived with holy abandon, free of worry, free of fear, not just for those with a steady income or a healthy body or a place at the emperor’s table, but for everybody gathered on the road that day — and for all of us. I think that’s what he saw that day. Not just the prospect of new eyes, but of new life.
People of God: we are living in anxious times. We are all affected. We may have homes, most of us; many of us have a steady income. But the indicators still waiver; belt-tightening measures continue; sickness and depression are familiar if unwelcomed guests; stress is real and it affects us and our relationships in all kinds of ways — some visible, some invisible. The challenge is to find the where-with-all to look up and open our eyes to the limitless number of life-giving possibilities before us: Because if our faith means anything at all, it means that we belong to a God of infinite possibilities, unlimited resources, unquenchable love, and abounding grace.
Bartimaeus may have had bad eyesight, but from his seat on the curb, he saw a man who loved with abandon, he heard the stories of an exceedingly generous-hearted God and he felt the urge to follow. He sprang up, threw off his cloak, joined the journey, and never looked back.
Here’s the Good News: that spark, the one that lit up Bartimeaus? That holy spark, is also igniting a flame in our collective imagination, right here at Saugatuck Church. Haven’t you seen it? Shining in the eyes of your Saugatuck neighbors? Haven’t you felt it, like a fire in your belly or a flush in your cheeks: that sense of anticipation, of expectation that gets stirred up when we look out past the horizon.
So we imagine: Saugatuck Church generating buzz all around town, because wherever good, healing, prophetic, life-changing stuff is happening, there you will find Saugatuck folks – serving meals, defending children, confronting homelessness, protecting God’s green earth, nurturing community, praying for peace, welcoming strangers…
Imagine dozens of new ministries springing up, and small groups to nourish members and deepen faith; imagine an innovative youth minister – maybe even full time – who knows how to connect with young people, both children and teens; imagine kids who want to hang out at Saugatuck Church because here they are respected, engaged, and learning how to make a difference in the world. Imagine being able to give away as much money as we spend on ourselves. Imagine exploring and supporting fresh ways to be Church. Imagine being able to see, like Bartimeaus saw!
It’s all possible, all of it. Because the Christ we follow: He’s the genuine article. He answers our call, and calls us to follow.
Sisters and Brothers in Christ, this Giving Season, let’s quit the curb and follow the faithful lead of Bartimaeus, that most clear-sighted disciple. Let’s throw off the cloak of fear, the cloak of too-few choices, the cloak of worry. Like Bartimaeus before us, toss aside the cloak of our anxieties and follow Christ with holy abandon. Let’s shout out, give all we have to give, learn all we have to learn from the one who promises healing and hope and grace to spare. Then, we’ll see what there is to see!
Amen.