ISAIAH 59:1-19

PSALM 13

HEBREWS 5:12 – 6:1, 9-12

MARK 10:46-52

 

 

Sermon – 10/26/03

 

Bartimaeus—and Us

 

    Bartimaeus is one of my heroes.

 

    Before I tell you why, let me give a little background on today’s wonderful Gospel story.  Scholars generally believe that Mark was the first of the four Gospels to have been written, and what we get in this, the oldest Gospel, is the vividness of first-hand reporting.  We have details which in later retellings of the same story in other Gospels get lost, smoothed over, made generic.

 

    Like, for instance, the name of the person Jesus healed.  Rarely was that recorded.  This name was—scholars think it was recorded because the earliest readers of St. Mark’s Gospel may have known Bartimaeus.  This is not a story about “some blind guy;” it’s about Bartimaeus—imagine someone saying—“You know him, he was at the Parish Picnic.”

 

    Mark tells us that “Jesus and his disciples came to Jericho.”  Mark doesn’t say why they came there or what they did there—that wasn’t as important as what happened with Bartimaeus.  The kind of things the TV news would have covered—vague, impersonal, and negative—are replaced in the Gospel with vividly specific and personal Good News.  It makes it easier to believe that Christ has specific and personal Good News for us today.

 

    Mark tells us that Bartimaeus was “sitting by the roadside begging.”  That was his job.  He had no alternative—that was the only job for blind people, for whom the government gave nothing.  Beg or starve.  And Bartimaeus had carved out a prime spot and time to do this:  on the one (and only) road from Jericho (and environs) to Jerusalem—a week before Passover.

 

    In Mark’s Gospel, this is the last act recorded by Jesus before he came to Jerusalem on Palm Sunday—and to be crucified on Good Friday.

 

    O.K., so why is Bartimaeus my hero?  Here are five reasons:

 

    First, he called out to Jesus without any introduction.  Mark says, “When he heard that it was Jesus of Nazareth, he began to shout out and say, “Jesus, son of David, have mercy on me!”  Some people today think they need someone’s permission to talk to Jesus, or to go through some bureaucracy, or to have someone else do it for them, or they think they just can’t reach him.  Baloney.  Just “call Jesus up.”  Bartimaeus knew that even though he’d never been in Jesus’ presence before.  He called him.  We’re in Jesus’ presence too; when we call him—here or anywhere—it’s just called prayer.

 

    Second, Bartimaeus wouldn’t shut up.  Don’t you love it; some self-important people who could see took it upon themselves to tell Bartimaeus to shut up, as though he couldn’t possibly be worth Jesus’ attention.  Bartimaeus ignored them.  If people discourage us from praying—or reading the Bible or going to church—we should ignore them too.  Rock on, Bart.

 

    Third reason he’s my hero, Bartimaeus threw off his cloak.  That’s a detail it’s easy to ignore.  But he was sitting by the roadside, and his cloak was covered with the coins religious pilgrims had given him.  It was (and is) traditional for religious Jews to give to an indigent as charity when starting a religious pilgrimage.  For a beggar, the week before Passover on the only road from his area to Jerusalem was a gold mine.  Picture the owner of a toy store walking away from his or her receipts from Thanksgiving weekend.  That’s what Bart did when he threw off his cloak.

 

    This was an act of faith:  before he even met Jesus, he believed that Jesus could and would heal him and he would never have to beg again.  No going back.  And it was an act of charity:  before he had any new job he might be able to get after (he believed) Jesus restored his sight, he gave away all he had earned that day to the poor.  Imagine the scramble among the other beggars for all the coins!  And don’t think someone didn’t take home the cloak as well!  But now Bartimaeus was going on a religious pilgrimage:  walking up to Jesus.  So he gave to charity first.  Not as an afterthought.  Not “when all the bills are paid.”  Not “if I have enough for all my future needs.”  He gave first.

 

    Can we show ¼ as much faith and generosity ourselves, today?

 

    Fourth reason Bartimaeus is my hero.  When Jesus asked him, “What do you want me to do for you?” he had an answer, and a good one.  What a person wants most is not always the person’s most obvious need, though in this case you could say the two were the same.  But Bartimaeus didn’t ask for money—after how many years of doing nothing else?  He asked if he could see again.  With that, he could support himself, and choose his path (see reason five.)

 

    If Jesus walked up to you this afternoon and asked, “What do you want me to do for you?” do you have an answer?  Work on it.  Make it a good answer.  He may ask.

 

    And fifth, when Bartimaeus was healed—“immediately,” Mark tells us—“he followed Jesus on the way.”

 

    He didn’t say, “Thanks, J. C., it’s been real”—or just walk off even without a thank-you, as some did.  He followed Jesus.

 

    And the fun times with Jesus were over—at least the fun times with the mortal Jesus.  For the next place Bartimaeus went with Jesus was Jerusalem, where Jesus would be arrested, tortured and crucified.

 

    Bart was not a “fair-weather friend.”  He started following Jesus on the eve of Holy Week.  But I think the reason we know his name is that he stuck with the community of those who love Jesus—through thick and thin.

 

    Following Jesus is what it’s all about.  Being part of the community that knows, loves and believes in Jesus and serves others in his Name is what it’s all about.  Not being casual, or fixed on “what’s in it for me,” but hanging in there with our faith and generosity through thick and thin, as part of the community of faith.

 

    So let us, like Bart, have a personal relationship with Jesus Christ, hold onto it even if people try to discourage us, act on our faith and live with reckless and joyful generosity, know what we really need most from Jesus and ask for it, and follow him as part of the community of faith, through thick and thin.

 

    God only knows what wonders we may see if we do all that.

 

(The Rev.) Francis A. Hubbard

St. Barnabas Episcopal Church