Your Faith Has Made You Well

Mark 10:46-52

October 24, 2021

 

            Back in our seminary days, my friend Shannon told her husband, Tim – who we’ve been praying for – and me the funniest story about a horse named Cricket and her family. Shannon’s grandparents had a farm, and they were notified about a horse that had been rescued from an abusive situation and needed a home. I don’t know how big their farm was, but they decided to take on this horse. She was a sweet horse, but they soon decided that she wasn’t the sharpest filly in the stable. She chased the cows. She refused to cross the small creek that ran through their farm. She would just stop at the water and wouldn’t go any further. She had other quirks and idiosyncrasies, but the point is, they loved Cricket and they were good to Cricket, but they would not have placed bets on her winning an intelligence contest.

            One weekend, Shannon’s aunt came home from college, and she brought a friend with her. The friend noticed Cricket and asked about her. She wanted to know if she could ride her. Shannon’s aunt and the family said, “Sure.” But they warned her about Cricket’s quirkiness and the fact that they didn’t think she was the smartest of horses that God put on the earth.

            The friend was undaunted. She gently rode Cricket around a few minutes, and to the amazement of everyone watching, she got Cricket to perform. It turned out that at some point in her life, Cricket was trained in dressage. I know absolutely nothing about horses, and even less about dressage, but from what I’ve read dressage is when a horse is trained to perform what looks like almost choreographed movements. And Cricket was doing this. Under the skilled hand of this visitor, Cricket was doing something that she had been trained to do. Apparently, every jaw of every person in Shannon’s family dropped at the sight of this. None of them had been able to see this in Cricket. None of them, until this friend came and helped them to see.

            After telling this story, Tim looked at Shannon and said,

            “Shannon, it’s a good thing your family didn’t own Lassie. Can you just imagine? ‘Lassie, would you stop barking! We’re trying to find Timmie.”

            This is not to cast any aspersions on Shannon’s family. They loved Cricket and gave her a good home. But they could not see in her what this friend saw. This person who had just met the horse saw what was there, but the others did not have that same sight.

            Throughout this chapter in Mark, really throughout the entire gospel until this point, we have been reading about those who cannot see Jesus for who he really is. He has been telling his disciples, his closest followers who have agreed that he is the Son of God, exactly what would happen to him, exactly what he would endure, that he would die, and that he would be raised up again. Yet in response, Jesus has been rebuked and misunderstood. The disciples have argued about who was the greatest among them, they have been upset that someone else not in their group was casting out demons in Jesus’ name. They have tried to keep children away from Jesus. And two of them have asked for special seats next to Jesus when he comes into his power. None of the disciples have a physical issue with sight, but none of them are able to see Jesus for who he truly is.

            And now we come to the end of this chapter, and what is considered the end of the first part of Mark’s gospel, and we meet a man who cannot physically see, but he does see Jesus. His limitation of sight does not keep him from seeing Jesus, from knowing Jesus, from recognizing Jesus.

            At this point in the gospel, Jesus is moving inexorably toward the cross. Immediately after this story, Jesus makes his “triumphal entry” into Jerusalem. But before he moves into the city, before he enters Jerusalem on the back of a colt, and the people lay palm branches and cloaks on the road before him, Jesus and the disciples, and a large crowd of people following them, leave Jericho. Along that Jericho Road, there is a blind beggar named Bartimaeus or Bar-Timaeus, son of Timaeus. In that time, being blind would have meant a life sentence of poverty and begging for alms from others. Bartimaeus would not have been able to enter into a profession or have his own family, so there he was on the roadside, waiting. When he heard that the person approaching him was Jesus of Nazareth, he began to shout out, crying,

            “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!”

            Bartimaeus may have been blind, but he was not deaf. He must have heard the commotion of a large number of people, and the sound of so many feet coming near. He must have heard the babble of voices, the whispers of wonder, the cries of expectation, the excited discussions about Jesus in their midst, and what would happen when he arrived in Jerusalem. Maybe Bartimaeus had heard rumors about Jesus. Perhaps he had heard about the wondrous things that Jesus was doing, healing, helping, teaching, feeding, and maybe, just maybe, Bartimaeus knew, understood, perceived in a way that went far beyond physical senses, who Jesus truly was and is. Bartimaeus knew Jesus, without actually knowing Jesus. He saw Jesus, without actually seeing Jesus.

            So, when Jesus approached, Bartimaeus realized he needed to get this man’s attention. He began shouting.

            “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!”

            You would think that the people around Bartimaeus would have recognized what an opportunity this was for Timaeus’ son. Here is someone who could help Bartimaeus, heal Bartimaeus. Instead, they try to hush him.

            “Be quiet, Bartimaeus!”

“Stop shouting, Bartimaues!”

“Don’t bother the teacher, Bartimaeus!”

“Who are you to cry out to him, Bartimaeus?!”

But all their efforts to shush him, to quiet him, to stifle him, were futile. They just made Bartimaeus shout even louder.

“Son of David, have mercy on me!”

Jesus heard. Through all the din, Jesus heard. He stopped walking and called Bartimaeus to him. I suspect that all the folks who were trying to shush him, now encouraged him to go to Jesus.

“Hush Bartimaeus. Oh wait, he wants to see you. Go Bartimaeus!”

Bartimaeus did not just stand up, he sprang up. He jumped up from that dirt road, threw off his cloak, and went to Jesus.

Jesus asked him, “What do you want me to do for you?”

“My teacher, let me see again.”

Without touching him, without uttering a prayer or speaking words that would seem to bring forth healing, Jesus healed him. Jesus healed him, and said,”

“Go; your faith has made you well.”

And immediately, Bartimaeus, once forced to beg by the side of the road, regained his sight. He saw and he followed.

What do you want me to do for you? I don’t think Jesus asked that question as a way of stating the obvious, or to be obtuse. Perhaps making Bartimaeus speak his desire was a way of getting at the heart of the matter, at the heart of what Bartimaeus really desired. Yes, he wanted to see, physically again, but he also asked, cried out for, mercy.

When we think of a gospel that has layers upon layers of meaning, we often think of John’s gospel first. But think there are layers of meaning in this story as well. Bartimaeus asked Jesus for mercy. His physical blindness did not keep him from seeing Jesus for who he really was, truly was. Bartimaeus believed in Jesus, had faith that Jesus was more than just this guy doing good things throughout the land. He believed even though he could not see. What a sharp contrast this makes to those who could see Jesus but could not seem to believe.

And when Bartimaeus threw off his cloak, what a response to Jesus that was! We take it for granted, don’t we? I’ll admit, I hadn’t given much thought to that response before. But think about it: that cloak was probably all that Bartimaeus had in this world. And he willingly threw it off, threw it down, and left it by the side of the road to follow Jesus. Compare Bartimaeus’ actions to the wealthy man we met earlier. He owned far more than a cloak, but he could not give up even that to follow in the way.

Bartimaeus was healed of his physical blindness, but his ability to see, to understand, to perceive was already 20/20. Where others could see only with their eyes, Bartimaeus was able to see with his heart.

This story humbles me because I suspect that I am far more like the disciples who can and cannot see who Jesus is. I am far more like the wealthy man who walks away because he cannot let go of what keeps him from Jesus. I am far more like the people who tried to hush Bartimaeus, to quiet him, embarrassed and scandalized when someone refuses to be silent in the face of need.

This story humbles me because I find myself wishing to be more like Bartimaeus, even though by all accounts, I am far more privileged, powerful, well-off, then he ever had the opportunity to be. And I am not glamorizing poverty or disability. Bartimaeus was not more blessed because he was blind or because he was poor and forced to beg. Bartimaeus was blessed, he was healed, because he did not let any obstacle keep him from Jesus. He did not let his physical blindness blind his heart and mind. He did not let it hamper or hinder his faith.

But there is one way that I am like Bartimaeus, and that is I too cry out for mercy. Have mercy on me, Jesus, Son of David, because of all the things I think I need, that is what I truly need. Show me grace, God, show me mercy, because I need it even though I know I’m not worthy of it. And then, help me to show others the same, to show others grace and mercy and love and compassion. Show me mercy, God, so that I may be merciful. Show me grace, so that I may be gracious.

What is the good news of this story? Jesus did just that. He showed mercy, over and over again. He showed mercy. He lived grace and forgiveness. He still does. And through that grace and forgiveness, he sees in us what we cannot see in ourselves. He sees who we were created to be. Jesus sees us in the same way Bartimaeus saw him, through the lens of abiding love. Thanks be to God, that is good news indeed.  

Let all of God’s children say, “Alleluia.”

Amen.