Believing is Seeing
Psalm 34:15-22; Mark 10:46-52
Several years ago, I was preparing to take a group of women to Argentina with Habitat for Humanity. Part of the preparation was to attend a training at the Habitat International headquarters in Americus, Georgia. One of the takeaways that has stuck with me for all these years was this. One of the facilitators talked about group dynamics especially when leading a group outside the United States. Things can come up. When someone in the group gets sick, or overly tired; when they decide to go their own way from the group’s plan (and they will); when they forget to be flexible, global citizens and just want their creature comforts, he said, Remember this little rhyme:
Here is the church, Here is the steeple.
Open the doors. See all the people.
He looked into our eyes, wiggling his fingers intently. “These are the people,” he said. I pictured the faces of those who would be going with me. Friends, adversaries, strangers, some of them fragile, who used that trip abroad as a space to clear their minds. Some of those who invested their time and money to serve others also did it to clear their hearts. As they had some hard stuff going on in their lives. These are the people. Still today, I often think about that. Getting outside our comfortable spaces and re-orienting our focus on others in the right way – can be like hitting a re-set button on our souls. We are the people.
One commentator I read this week said this: No one in Mark is perfect, and I find it oddly consoling. People ask for healing, exorcism, power, political liberation, or other things. Jesus might sigh deeply (see also 8:12), as no one really understands him. Sometimes it feels like people are using Jesus. But I know I am no different. If my loved ones needed medical miracles, I would ask for help desperately. I hope Jesus will understand me, even if I don’t fully understand him.[1]
Let that set the tone for our plunge into the healing of a blind man named Bartimaeus. It is the last healing story in the Gospel of Mark. But the first and only one to give a name to the one being healed. Everyone else in Mark that Jesus heals is identified by their disease or their impairment, ethnicity or relationship to someone else. This is significant - that Bartimaeus is named. Even though the crowd didn’t pay attention to him, the reader should. The story of Bartimaeus is a closing bookend to this central section of Mark that we have worked through together over the past few weeks. I called it a bookend because earlier in chapter 8, there was another story of a blind man receiving his sight. He was the one who sat by the pool at Bethsaida. The healings of these two physically blind men frame this central section of Mark where we have seen Simon Peter, the disciples, the rich ruler, James and John, the crowd – who all suffer from spiritual blindness. They were blind to who Jesus really was, blind to the kind of Kin’dom he was building, blind to what discipleship really meant. The story of Bartimaeus stands in “vivid contrast” to the blindness of the disciples and these others.[2] Poetic irony.
The ones we expect to possess faith through sight, are unseeing; and the one we least expect to have faith, seems to see clearly what Jesus can do for him.
Jesus is leaving Jericho with his disciples and a sizable crowd. Sitting by the road is Bartimaeus, who shouts to Jesus, “Son of David! Have mercy on me!” The crowd scolds him and shushes him. (What are they doing?) Preventing the man from getting to Jesus. They are getting in his way. They regard Bartimaeus as nothing more than an annoyance, someone they didn’t want to look at, someone whose voice they tried to silence. I suspect they had been ignoring Bartimaeus for years even as they threw a few coins his way now and then. [3] But he refused to be silenced. Boldly shouting out to Jesus even louder, “Son of David! Have mercy on me!”
Jesus stops and stands still. Notice that this time, instead of speaking directly to Bartimaeus, Jesus re-orients the crowd’s energy. He re-directs their focus from a posture of dismissing him to receiving him. To the crowd, he says, “Call him forward.”
Like that, their attitude toward Bartimaeus shifted (Jesus had his own Jedi mind-trick) and they began cheering for him, “Be encouraged! (Take heart!) Get up here! He is calling you.” Excited, Bartimaeus dropped his coat, jumped to his feet and scrambled to Jesus, who said, “What do you want me to do for you?” (It’s the very same question Jesus asked James and John in the previous passage when they were asking for special treatment, fast passes to the head of line.) “What do you want me to do for you? “Bartimaeus simply answers, “I want to see.”
Poetic Irony.
This reminded me of a story that Tony Campolo shared about an affluent, inner-city church that started a ministry to feed poor people in their community. Many around them were living on the street and in a world of pain. Over time, the people in the community began to wander into the Sunday worship service expecting the same hospitality they enjoyed during the weekdays. However, the upper-middle class folks who worshiped at that time felt uncomfortable with these visitors. Eventually, one of the members took the minister aside and said, “Do these people have to be in here with us? Can’t we provide a special service just for them?”
The minister answered, “Well, I think everybody should have a chance to meet Jesus face to face.” “Of course,” said the member, “I think they should have the same opportunities to meet Jesus face to face as we all have.” The minister squared up to the member and said, “I’m not talking about them. I’m talking about you.” The member’s eyes were opened. The place to see Jesus was in the faces of their derelict neighbors.[4] These are the people.
Jesus offered the crowd corrective lenses that day, when he re-directed them to call Bartimaeus to come to him. They were given new lenses to see him in a different light, to see him through Jesus’ eyes. The story of Bartimaeus is an invitation to see.
I think it is inviting us to see a few things: Where are we getting in the way? How do we ask for what we need? And why aren’t we throwing more parties?
Where are we getting in the way of others coming to Jesus?
Am I a shusher? Keeping people in their place so as not to disturb the peace (my peace); or so no one is made to feel uncomfortable. Do we discount the power, or impact, that Jesus can still have in peoples’ lives? Perceiving that God is too distant, too far away, too busy to have heard our prayers, regard our questions, recognize our pain. Am I getting in the way of someone who needs to find a community like this one because I assume:
- They won’t like a church like ours.
- We don’t have many people who look like them. They won’t be comfortable.
- They’re never going to go to church anywhere, anyway.
- They don’t believe faith is relevant to their lives anymore.
If we are making those decisions FOR people, we have to release our expectations, re-orient our focus, of who God can save and call. Jesus will call the one we least expect every time.
If you were standing before Jesus today and he said, “What do you want me to do for you?” How would you answer? Would you be able to say clearly what you need?
“There are two words that offer a way out,” Buechner writes, “‘Help me.’ It’s not always easy to say them – you have your pride after all, and you’re not sure there’s anybody you trust enough to say them to – but they’re always worth saying.”[5]
How would you answer Jesus' question? Heal my body. Put my broken heart back together. Bring about a cease-fire! Reconcile my family. Reconcile the harmful divisions in our country. I don’t want to feel alone, Jesus. I want to be normal. Could life be a little easier?
Bartimaeus asked for mercy and not privilege. He seemed to realize that Jesus could be trusted with his deepest desire – to see Jesus again. Jesus' question underlines the importance of getting clear about our deepest desires. James and John had not. But Bartimaeus did. He responded in a way that demonstrated he wanted the right thing and he wanted it right away. He didn’t secretly enjoy his infirmity, being at the mercy of passersby. He really wanted to be healed and whole. Bartimaeus expressed his prayer persistently, plainly and honestly. That is all that we can do.[6] Like Bartimaeus, the disciples, the crowd – we all come to Jesus in need of help and equally in need of grace. (These are the people)
At the start of the pandemic when we were first practicing social distancing (two words you hoped you would never hear again), our dear friend found out that the adoption of her little girl was going to be finalized with a judge’s signature the very next day. A month earlier, anticipating this happening soon, she had planned to invite her family and friends to the courthouse to celebrate making their forever family official. But with the looming virus, no one was allowed in the courtroom, and the paper was signed without any fanfare. Something wonderful was taking place in the life of this family.
We could not let that go uncelebrated. A child had come home. A forever relationship to her adopted mommy and extended family was written into law. They were so excited to have this thing they had prayed for – that the whole community had prayed for – come to be. So, we re-oriented our thinking. And we did what became a standard party procedure in 2020. We invited all her local people to a drive-by celebration! People decorated their cars and trucks with signs and decorations. It was like a parade! They brought gifts to our front yard for this little family. They honked their horns, blared dance music, and they shouted and waved from their car windows. It was not the celebration they had expected, but it was a party!
One of the things that stands out in today’s story is the way the crowd decides to joyfully encourage Bartimaeus to come to Jesus. It is beautiful to imagine them clearing the way (rather than standing in it) so that he can get to Jesus when he calls. Weatherly, let’s be that kind of crowd. Celebrating like this with each other when something joyful happens; when someone joins the church, or comes to know Jesus, or gets their prayer answered. What if we celebrated when people asked for what they truly needed even if it makes us feel vulnerable? There is a lot to mourn and a lot to be pessimistic about in this world. We can go through life shutting out the voices we are tired of hearing, or we can allow Jesus to re-direct our focus; open our eyes; get out of the way and help others see Jesus.
That is our job as Disciples. That is our job in southeast Huntsville. Help people, all God’s people, to see Jesus.
[1]https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/ordinary-30-2/commentary-on -mark-1046-52-6 Hong, Sung Soo
[2] Williamson, Lamar Interpretation commentary Mark
[3] Fulp-Eickstaedt, Aaron, A Question of Vision, 2018 sermon for Immanuel Presbyterian Church, McLean, VA
[4] Campolo, Tony Let Me Tell You a Story
[5] Buechner, Frederick Whistling in the Dark
[6] Williamson, Lamar Interpretation commentary Mark