Mark 10:46-52

46Jesus and his disciples 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. 47When he heard that it was Jesus of Nazareth, he began to shout out and say, “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!” 48Many sternly ordered him to be quiet, but he cried out even more loudly, “Son of David, have mercy on me!” 49Jesus 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. 51Then 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.” 52Jesus said to him, “Go; your faith has made you well.” Immediately he regained his sight and followed him on the way. 

What has been seen cannot be unseen

I began full time ministry in South Africa in the early 2000’s. I was in my early twenties. It was an euphoric time to be South African. Desmond Tutu’s dream of a rainbow nation seemed to be coming true. As one of the youngest ministers at clergy meetings, I was among much older colleagues. Many ministers bore physical, spiritual, emotional, and psychological scars from the fight against apartheid. Some had been jailed. Some tortured. Some had been constantly watched and hassled by the security branch. Fearing for their children’s safety, some ministers had to farm their children out to friends. It is fair to say, that being a minister during Apartheid and standing against the injustices of the law came at great personal cost. I remember asking a senior priest how he managed to find the courage to take a stand against the status quo, against the state, against the police, and even against close family when it came at so great a cost. I shall not forget his reply. “My dear Desiree” he said. “What has been seen cannot be unseen.”  

What has been seen cannot be unseen. Seeing is precisely the crux of authentic discipleship. Following Jesus is not about understanding complex Christian doctrines originally espoused in Greek and Latin. Nor is following Jesus about doing churchy things, although coming to church will help, since none of us can thrive isolated. Following Jesus is not about knowing the liturgy off by heart or even being pious. To follow Jesus is about whether you want to see, or not. Six words summarise today’s message: to follow Jesus is to see. Our wealth as OED Christians cannot protect us from our spiritual poverty nor our spiritual blindness.

What is it that we must see, you ask? While there are many ways to answer this question, a one-word answer is injustice. To follow Jesus is to see the injustice that destroys creation and humanity. Ched Myers is more poetic:  

To see our weary world as it truly is, without denial and delusion: the inconvenient truths about economic disparity and racial oppression and ecological destruction and war without end...  Discipleship invites us to apprehend life in its deepest trauma and its greatest ecstasy, in order that we might live into God’s vision of the pain and the promise[1]. 

About some words in the text

As we look at the text, there are symbols that are worth noting:

“Jericho”

Jesus has been moving south from Galilee towards Jericho. Twice, mention is made of Jericho. Jericho is symbolic of “The Way”, remembering that the first Christians were called people of The Way. Mark is calling us to follow Jesus on the road, on the way to Jericho, on the way to full sight. 

I wonder what Jericho symbolised for the first audience. Does it remind readers of the time that the walls of Jericho came down when people shouted? There is an Old Testament story about a hero called Joshua who fought a battle at Jericho and the walls came tumbling down when people shouted. 

The shouting of Bartimaeus on the road to Jericho could prefigure the fact that at the shout of Jesus, Jerusalem and particularly the temple will be shouted down (Mark 13.2)?   

“Shout”

Bartimaeus cries out. The word is kratzo. It has been used several times in Mark: the demons cry out “What do you want with us Jesus of Nazareth when Jesus first begins his ministry. (3.11 Whenever the unclean spirits saw him, they fell down before him and shouted, "You are the Son of God!") 

Bartimaeus cries out in Mark 10. The crowds cry out at Jesus’ trial, and Jesus cries out when he dies on the cross. Indeed, at the final cry of the Gospel when Jesus gives up his spirit the temple tumbles.   

“Bartimaeus”

The healing story of Mark 10.46-52 in Jericho reminds us of the healing in Mark 8.31 near Bethsaida.  There are of course some differences. In the first healing story Jesus heals the man twice. In the second story, the blind man’s faith makes him well. In the first story the blind man is brought to Jesus. In the second story Bartimaeus asks Jesus for healing himself while others try to stop him.   

The name of the person Bartimaeus is mentioned and explained. This is one of the only times that the recipient is named. Bartimaeus means “son of a precious one.” The one whom society literally sidelines, is the precious one.  

The crowds at first rebuke Bartimaeus. Rebuke is a strong word. Is it not enough that he is blind, must he be mute as well? The crowds add to his disability by requiring muteness on top of blindness. 

“Jesus, Son of David,” is what Bartimaeus calls out.  The irony is that the blind man “sees” who Jesus is, better than James and John and the other disciples who are blind to the type of Messiah that Jesus wants to be.

There is further irony in Bartimaeus calling out “Jesus, Son of David,” in that David was said to have been prejudiced against the blind and the lame. There is a vague idea that King David “hated” the blind and the lame and forbade them from ever entering Jericho. 2 Samuel 5.8 explains the supposed origins of David’s prejudice against the blind and the lame: “David said on that day, "Whoever would strike the Jebusites, let him reach the lame and the blind, who are hated by David's soul, through the water tunnel." Therefore, they say, "The blind or the lame shall not come into the house."  

“Cloak”

Clothing is a powerful symbol in Mark’s Gospel. Usually, leaving a cloak behind symbolises a journey in transformation. Bartimaeus leaves his cloak, as does the unnamed man at the end of the Gospel after the Resurrection of Jesus. The cloak also reminds us of the woman with the issue of blood who hoped that merely touching the edge of Jesus’ cloak would heal her.  

Our new cloaks

What do we do in reaction to the story in Mark 10.46-52? How is our blindness healed?

On one level, the Scriptures may question how people are treated, particularly differently abled people. In the reading it is not enough that the man is blind, he is muted when the crowds rebuke him. The recent Para-Olympics were an astonishing celebration of the nobility of the human spirit in facing challenges of mobility and other issues. The cry of Bartimaeus is a continuous call for us to assess our own hospitality to difference and those with challenges.  I believe it is not the disabled who are disabled but society who is disabled. If we were to design buildings and processes properly with inclusion as a central value, then so-called disabilities cease to exist as a disability but become another incredible way of being human. For example, if a path is properly designed, two people journey in diverse ways, one on wheels and one in runners.  

On another level, the Scriptures are a reminder of the power of the prophetic voice. At the Crucifixion when Jesus cries out the second temple tumbles down. The prophetic cry is a sober reminder that institutions that are not life giving will eventually tumble.   

Some here today may be called to be on the road with Jesus and Bartimaeus. We may be called to leave behind the cloaks of old patterns, behaviours, and ways. Perhaps one message is that we are to follow Jesus the other half of the way. In the words of Meister Eckhart: “There are plenty that follow the Lord halfway, but not the other half. They will give up possessions, friends, and honours, but it touches them too deeply to disown themselves.”  The symbol of leaving one’s cloak behind is precisely the pleasure of disowning oneself, of self-renunciation, of setting aside the fragile false ego. Thomas Kelly explains that to follow Jesus all the way to Jerusalem from Jericho is “the astonishing life” where one intends complete obedience, without any reservations to commit our lives in obedience to Christ literally, utterly, and completely.  It is to this that we are all called when we throw of our cloaks and follow Jesus the other half of the way.    

I end with a prayer from Charles de Focauld who left his cloak behind and followed Jesus on the road from Jericho to Jerusalem. Brother Charles of Jesus not only gave up possession, friends and honours, he disowned himself too, willingly giving himself fully to God.

 

The Prayer of Abandonment of Brother Charles of Jesus

Father, I abandon myself into Your hands;  
do with me what You will.  
Whatever You do I thank You.  
I am ready for all, I accept all.  
Let only Your will be done in me,  
as in all Your creatures,  
I ask no more than this, my Lord.  

Into Your hands I commend my soul;  
I offer it to You, O Lord,  
with all the love of my heart,  
for I love You, my God, and so need to give myself--  
to surrender myself into Your hands,  
without reserve and with total confidence, 
for You are my Mother. Amen.

[1] https://chedmyers.org/2018/10/25/the-feast-of-bartimaeus-celebrating-an-old-tome-a-new-home-and-a-sacred-story-by-ched-myers/