Scripture: Mark 10:46-52
Reimagining Jesus’ healing of Bartimaeus:
Many years ago, in a city far, far away, there lived a man who could not see. The man’s name was Bart. Not the Bart of Simpson’s fame. Another Bart from another time.
Bart lived in the city of Jericho. Yes, the same Jericho you learned about in Sunday school. The Jericho whose walls collapsed after a seven-day siege. The Jericho whose only survivors were a prostitute named Rahab and her household.
Jericho wasn’t supposed to exist anymore, but Herod the Great rebuilt the city as a monument to his own ego. The new and improved Jericho was beautiful to look at. But that was no use to Bart, he couldn’t see any of it.
Jericho was not like Wellington. The weather was warmer and dryer for one thing. More than that, there was no safety net for people who were blind. There was no Ministry for Social Development, no disability allowance, and almost no Human Rights.
This meant Bart was forced to beg for a living, alongside all the other people with disabilities. Bart was part of that 5% of the population at the bottom of the heap. Invisible. Expendable. Excluded.
Not being able to see and not being able to work, Bart had time to listen and think. He learned who to approach for bread by the tone in their voice. Bart took in the smells of the marketplace, like a seeing person took in light. He sensed when rain was coming.
He heard the laughter of children, the constant haggling of shop keepers, the laboured breathing of camels after a long journey,
the footsteps of women, heavy with jars of water from the well.
The chatter of a thousand mundane lives.
Bart also heard the silence of those who ignored his presence. He couldn’t see them, but he understood their choice not to face him.
It was just too hard for many people. They had enough of their own worries without being confronted with his.
Refusal to acknowledge human need breeds its own kind of blindness. Look away often enough and you will stop seeing your neighbour.
Worse than that, you will forget who you are and why you are.
As a professional beggar, Bart was well aware of people’s reasons for not giving. Afterall, Bart had not always been blind. He could see it from both sides now, like that Joni Mitchell song.
Many people simply could not afford to give. Some wouldn’t give because they felt it encouraged laziness, as if being blind was a lifestyle choice. And others simply didn’t care.
For some, the blind and the lame were being punished by God. These fearful souls believed in karma, a lazy belief system. Their idea of God left no room for grace. No room for mystery.
Bart also understood people’s reasons for choosing to give. Some were quietly appeasing their conscience for sins both real and imagined. While others gave loudly to make themselves look good.
But people are not all bad. There were a few in each day who gave with genuine compassion. And it was their compassion which helped keep Bart’s faith alive. A winsome touch often came when he least expected it. Compassion helped Bart to imagine what God looked like.
Some of his colleagues on the begging circuit were cynical when it came to God. Years of disappointment had corroded their capacity for trust.
But that wasn’t Bart. His father had always warned him against self-pity. “You can’t change the past, but you can sometimes learn from it”, his dad used to say. “Don’t focus on what’s wrong with the world. Imagine God putting things right”.
So that’s what Bart did. When one of his friends who couldn’t walk was trampled to death in a street riot, he imagined his friend walking tall in heaven.
Or when tax collectors stole from hard working families on the bread line, Bart imagined authorities who only collected what was fair. In this way, he saved himself the burden of resentment.
From a young age Bart had heard the ancient predictions of a king who would come to the rescue of his people. This Messiah would be like king David of old, who had conquered his enemies and established peace. This king would be God’s answer, God’s way of putting things right.
Living on the fringes of Jericho as he did, where many travelers passed through, Bart was in a good position to hear news from all over the region.
For about three years now he had been over-hearing reports of a miracle worker. A man who caused the mute to speak, the lame to walk and the deaf to hear. This man had even been known to raise people from the dead.
He spoke with authority and without fear of the religious establishment. And although he had never taken up arms against the Romans, the power of his words and deeds was conquering all manner of evil.
He had become a hero to the people and, much like king David, he travelled with a band of unlikely misfits. His name was Jesus.
Bart thought about that name. Jesus. In Hebrew, Jeshua. Which translates into English as Joshua. It means, ‘the Lord is salvation’ or more simply, ‘God saves’. Hmm. God saves.
The Joshua of Old Testament times had been instrumental in the destruction of the first Jericho. What would Jesus, the second Joshua, do?
One day, Bart heard a noise in the distance. Bart was a bit like Radar from MASH in that way, hearing the choppers carrying wounded before anyone else. But this wasn’t the sound of choppers. This was more like a wedding procession.
Bart could hear the excitement in people’s voices and sensed the crowd growing as it went along. He asked those standing near what was happening and they told him, ‘Jesus of Nazareth is passing by’.
Nazareth, a small town in the region of Galilee. Nazareth was not unlike Tawa in some ways. To those who live outside of Wellington, Tawa is the butt of a joke, made famous by a comedian who never lived in Tawa. But to those who do live here, Tawa is a real community.
Nazareth was similar, misunderstood. To those who lived in Jerusalem (just 15 miles from Jericho) Nazareth was a despised place, the butt of a joke. ‘Does anything good come from Nazareth?’ is what people used to say.
Jesus came from the wrong side of the tracks which, in a strange way, made him more trustworthy in Bart’s mind.
Bart knew the Kairos moment had come. Like witnessing a comet that only came round once in a lifetime, Bart had to act before the window of opportunity closed.
But how to get Jesus’ attention? He would have to use a click baity headline. Bart called out loudly, ‘Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me’.
To call Jesus ‘son of David’ raised the stakes. No one had given Jesus the title ‘Son of David’ publicly before. Bart was essentially naming Jesus as the Messiah. God’s special king, chosen to lead and deliver his people.
It was revolutionary talk, bordering on treason.
The Roman empire was a dictatorship. Caesar didn’t take kindly to political rivals. Not that Jesus had any political aspirations. Far from it. But perception is reality and the empire needs to manage perception.
Bart’s cry risked a riot.
Many in the crowd tried to silence Bart. Perhaps they were afraid of the possibility of tear gas and water cannons. Or maybe they found Bart’s presence embarrassing. Beggars are a bad look. They bring property prices down and they make respectable people feel uncomfortable.
But the more they told Bart to keep quiet, the more Bart shouted,
‘Son of David, have mercy on me’. Bart would not be ignored.
If you had heard Bart that day, you would have been reminded of that Chumbawamba song, ‘I get knocked down, but I get up again. You’re never gonna keep me down’.
Years of insult, years of rejection, years of grieving and hoping beyond hope. Years of sheer frustration at his own powerlessness were finding expression in his heart’s cry: ‘Son of David, have mercy on me’.
And through the heat and the sweat and the dust and the cacophony of voices, Jesus did hear him.
Jesus didn’t especially like being called ‘Son of David’. It was true alright. He was the Son of David. He was the Messiah. But it was a truth prone to misunderstanding. The title ‘Son of David’, was a fuse waiting to be lit.
Jesus did not come as a warrior king, like David. Nor was he interested in compromising his loyalty to God in order to keep the peace like Solomon. Jesus was not like any king the world had ever known.
Jesus was unique, one of a kind, the real deal.
In that moment, Jesus remembered something he had said in a sermon once. ‘Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God’. To be pure in heart is to will one thing. This man, blind as he was, possessed an insight that those with 20/20 vision just didn’t have.
The man was asking for mercy. Not for power or prestige. Not for justice or revenge. Jesus knew that God, his father, did not ignore passionate, persistent prayer like this and so neither could he.
Jesus also knew that in responding to the man he was publicly accepting the title of Messiah. And he knew that pretty much everyone would misunderstand what that meant. But in a week or so it wouldn’t matter anyway.
Stopping traffic on the motorway, Jesus said to those standing near,
‘Call him’. The crowd grew still. What would Jesus do?
Like a radio finding the right frequency, the same voices that had just been trying to silence Bart, were now encouraging him. ‘Cheer up. On your feet. He’s calling you’.
Bart didn’t need to be told twice. Throwing his cloak aside he jumped to his feet and came to Jesus. Bart’s cloak was his most valuable possession. It kept him warm at night and he spread it on the ground during the day for people to drop their coins on. Bart’s coat kept him alive.
Bart was prepared to leave everything to meet Jesus. It’s like Bob Dylan said, ‘When you’ve got nothing, you’ve got nothing to lose’. Bart had nothing to lose. Blessed are the poor for the kingdom of heaven is theirs.
Jesus looked at Bart and saw in his face that the years had not been kind to him. Jesus saw him and understood his pain, his loneliness, the weariness of absorbing other people’s prejudice. And Jesus loved him.
Jesus spoke to Bart saying, ‘What do you want me to do for you?’
How many times had Jesus uttered those words?
Just a day earlier Jesus had asked the same question of two of his disciples, James and John. They had wanted positions of power and prestige in his kingdom. They had come from privilege and didn’t know to ask for mercy.
Nevertheless, Jesus liked asking people that question. ‘What do you want me to do for you?’ The answer reveals so much.
Bart felt the weight of Jesus’ words, even though they were spoken softly. Bart was used to people tossing him a few coins or a piece of bread when he called for mercy. It often felt like they were paying him to be quiet.
But Jesus was different. Jesus made no assumptions about what Bart wanted. Nor did Jesus try to silence him. Instead, Jesus kept the conversation going, moving from the general to the specific.
Jesus was cutting straight to the heart of the matter. Challenging Bart to reveal his most intimate and sacred desire in front of hundreds of people. It takes real faith to be vulnerable like that.
Bart knew what he wanted. He would take the risk and ask for something big. Something for himself. Something that would last. Something that would set him free. Something that scared him. Something that would completely transform his life…
‘Rabbi, (Master, Teacher), I want to see’.
In asking for his sight, Bart knew he could never go back to his old life of begging. Bart knew he would need to start afresh, learn new skills, get a job, take responsibility and contribute.
He also knew that not everything he saw would be pleasant. Yes, there is beauty in the world, but there is also violence. Nevertheless, he was prepared to accept the challenge of living a more abundant life.
And Jesus, understanding the courage in Bart’s request, agreed to give him what he asked for. ‘Go, your faith has healed you’.
Faith is the conduit for life. We live by faith. If life is blood, then faith is the artery carrying the blood. If life is an electrical current, then faith is the cable carrying the power. If life is an underground stream, then faith is the well finding the water. If life is a piece of bread, then faith is eating the bread.
Jesus is the source of life. The source of healing, forgiveness and intimacy with God. Find Jesus and you find life. Put your faith in Jesus, trust him in the core of your being, and you will tap into the source of eternal life.
As soon as Jesus spoke, Bart received his sight. He could see again.
And the first image to fill his mind was love, in the face of God’s Son.
As Bart looked into Jesus’ eyes, he saw what God intended for humanity.
Although Jesus had released him from any obligation by saying, ‘Go’, Bart could not help but follow Jesus along the road to Jerusalem.
There was something attractive about Jesus. Something that drew people to him. ‘Something that has to be believed to be seen’. [1]
From the gospel of Mark, chapter 10, verses 46-52, we read…
46 Then they came to Jericho. As Jesus and his disciples, together with a large crowd, were leaving the city, a blind man, Bartimaeus (which means “son of Timaeus”), was sitting by the roadside begging.
47 When he heard that it was Jesus of Nazareth, he began to shout, “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!”
48 Many rebuked him and told him to be quiet, but he shouted all the more, “Son of David, have mercy on me!”
49 Jesus stopped and said, “Call him.” So they called to the blind man, “Cheer up! On your feet! He’s calling you.” 50 Throwing his cloak aside, he jumped to his feet and came to Jesus.
51 “What do you want me to do for you?” Jesus asked him.
The blind man said, “Rabbi, I want to see.”
52 “Go,” said Jesus, “your faith has healed you.”
Immediately he received his sight and followed Jesus along the road.
Let us pray…
Father God, we thank you for Jesus, through whom we have life and friendship with you. Open our eyes to see Jesus at work in our lives and our neighbourhood. Help us to walk with the Spirit of Jesus, in humility and faith. Amen.
Questions for discussion or reflection:
- What stands out for you in reading this Scripture and/or in listening to the sermon? Why do you think this stood out to you?
- What would Bartimaeus’ life have been like as a blind man living in the first century? How would your life be different if you were blind?
- What does the name ‘Jesus’ mean? In what ways does Jesus fulfil the meaning of his name for Bartimaeus? In what ways does Jesus fulfil the meaning of his name for you?
- In what ways does blind Bartimaeus show greater spiritual insight / vision than most of the seeing people around him? Who is Jesus to you? What is your perception / expectation of Jesus?
- Why does Bartimaeus call Jesus, ‘Son of David’? What does this title mean? How would the Jews of the first century have (mis)understood this title?
- Compare and contrast Bartimaeus’ request with the request of James and John (in Mark 10:37). Why does Jesus give Bartimaeus what he asked for?
- What do you want Jesus to do for you? What do you think Jesus might say or do in response to your request? How would your life be different?
[1] This sentence was inspired by a line in a song by U2.
Tawa Baptist 