Sermons

Oct 29 - The Rev. Christopher McLaren - The 21st Sunday after Pentecost

Sunday October 29, 2006 Proper 25
Text: Mark 10:46-52
Theme: Get off the sideline

The Gospel passage today begins with a prayer, “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!” It is, to be sure, a wild kind of yelling prayer. I’m sure you know about other kinds of yelling prayers. In fact you may have some of your personal favorites. Perhaps they happen when you are driving in traffic, “Please don’t hit me” or “Lord, don’t let them pull out,” Or at home when you get home from work, “Would you please stop yelling” (oh, did I yell that prayer, out loud?), “Please could I have some peace and quiet,” or perhaps more privately, “Lord, don’t let this happen to me,” or simple “God help, I don’t know what to do.” All of this is to say that there are times at which sophisticated forms of prayer are simply inappropriate. There are times that a simple yelling prayer is just the ticket. I’m sure that if God can hear a prayer whispered under our breath, God can handle our yelled prayers just the same.

Bartimaeus, a blind man who is sitting near the gate of city, the preferred place to beg alms as it was a high traffic area like a freeway on-ramp or a busy intersection. He hears that this healing-man Jesus is passing that way and throws social convention to the wind and begins yelling for Mercy, not a bad thing to yell about as yelling goes. He is shushed by the crowd. They want to quiet him down. Is it because of the overtly Messianic title he is using for this itinerant rabbi from the backwaters of Galilee? More likely it is because of his social status, as an outcast. They find his presence among them embarrassing or disconcerting. Bartimaeus, surprisingly we know his name, is in pain and we are often uncomfortable with those in our midst who are in pain.

Have you ever asked someone politely, “How are you doing?’ only to have them really answer the question, to pour out the pain of their life, their depression or their grocery list of illnesses, or the trauma resident in their family. You were expecting something like, “Fine thank you, and you?” And you got more than you bargained for. We don’t like that. It makes us uncomfortable to know about the pain of others. That's one of the reasons why we do not eagerly visit someone who is in great pain in the hospital. It threatens us to be around people in pain. Their pain is a reminder of how vulnerable all of us are. If this could happen to them, it could happen to us. So we tend to keep sick and disabled people out of sight, institutionalized, and away from the rest of us. Fortunately, advocates for the physically or mentally disabled are urging people to come out, to come forward, to speak up, and get into the mainstream of life. This blind beggar does just that. He keeps yelling out at Jesus. And Jesus hears, stops, and tells his disciples to call Bartimaeus to him.

This really is a most amazing scene. Jesus stopping for this “nobody on the sidelines of life.” Caught up in the movement of the crowd, moving forward with the press of people around him, his mind and heart moving toward the confrontation that awaits him in Jerusalem, Jesus tunes into the pain of a man on the margins.

And they called the blind man, saying to him, "Take heart; get up, he is calling you." So throwing off his cloak, he sprang up and came to Jesus.

Bartimaeus, you’ve won the messianic powerball, this Jesus fellow wants to see you, go to him. The man’s yelling turns into running toward Jesus. He throws caution to the wind, throws off his cloak, throws off his security blanket, and stumbles toward the Messiah.

Interestingly Jesus asks Bartimaeus the same question he asked his disciples James and John earlier in the chapter, “What do you want me to do for you.”

Not surprisingly the blind man answers Jesus, "My teacher, let me see again." Jesus said to him, "Go; your faith has made you well." Immediately he regained his sight. Then Mark says something that he does not say for any other healing story in this gospel, of all the many, many healing stories in this gospel: Bartimaeus follows Jesus on the way. Of all the people that Jesus heals, so far as we know, Bartimaeus is the only one who becomes a disciple and follows Jesus on the way, the way that leads to Jerusalem and ultimately to the cross.

I think that this story is not only to be heard by us as a miraculous healing but also as a story of discipleship. Many come to Jesus asking him to heal them, solve their problems, or fix what's wrong with them. But only a few are willing to follow. Jesus tells Bartimaeus that he can go on his way, and who would have blamed Bartimaeus if he had left right then? Think of all the places he might want to go and things he might want to see. But no, Bartimaeus follows Jesus.
You and I are here because we're also trying to follow Jesus. The ironic thing is that Bartimaeus is introduced to us as a blind man. However, if we're honest, we've got to admit that in many ways, Bartimaeus may see Jesus better than we do.
 First, Bartimaeus refuses to let the crowd keep him from Jesus. He will not keep quiet and will not go along with the crowd.

My guess is that we know what it means to go along with the crowd, not speaking up in a business meeting about our concerns regarding policies or approaches that conflict with our values as followers of Jesus. It is easier to stay quiet, to be shushed by the crowed around us out of fear or ridicule. It is easier still for those of us who are relatively successful and prosperous to follow the crowd in ignoring the less fortunate in our society as if being poor or under-employed or without adequate medical care or insurance is somehow contagious. Bartimaeus is a courageous example of pursuing Jesus despite the crowd, despite his station in life, despite the learned helplessness that could have accompanied his disability. Bartimaeus keeps yelling his prayers, over the crowd and into the compassionate ears of the savior.

It is of great interest to many commentators that this story of the second blind man in the Gospel of Mark comes at the end of a long section of teaching concerning the nature of discipleship. In fact, the healing of blind Bartimaeus concludes the teaching on discipleship with the enacted parable of a blind man “seeing Jesus” more clearly than his own closest disciples and becoming a follower on the way with Jesus. “On the way” is a code word in the Mark’s Gospel for the cross. In an ironic way blind Bartimaeus is presented as premier disciple, though he is blind he sees, though there are many reasons he might have to run-off exploring his newly available world he chooses to follow in the costly way of discipleship. It reminds me of a parishioner’s answer to me once about where he’d been. "Why have I not been back to church in two years?" the man asked, gesturing in the air with his finger. "It seemed like every time I came to church, the church was always trying to get me to do something -- change, consider others less fortunate, care more about the gift of creation, give up this, give up that. I just couldn't take it anymore. The way I saw it, I was either going to have to become a different person, or else look fairly ridiculous just sitting there. So I quit coming." I confess I wasn’t quite sure what to say. I think I managed a, “thanks for your honesty.”
While I am deeply attracted to this whole discussion of discipleship I want to consider the question that Jesus asks Bartimaeus before he becomes a disciple.
Jesus asks, "What do you want me to do for you?" (Mk 10:51) As I’ve pondered this beautiful question this past week I’ve found myself wondering how I would answer it. What would you or I say to the healer Jesus if we were asked that single God-bearing question? “What do you want me to do for you?” What would you blurt out if you weren’t sitting in church? What would you say if your spouse or partner or children or priest or mom or dad couldn’t hear you? What is your heart’s desire that you would dare in faith and hope and perhaps even desperation speak into the compassionate eyes of Jesus?

The answer to that question is where your discipleship begins. Your answer to it is exactly where Jesus will meet you on the road. It is precisely that tender spot that Jesus wants to touch. I cannot tell you what Jesus’ healing will look like or feel like for you, but what we can learn from Bartimaeus is this. If you risk getting Jesus’ attention and dare to answer his question, “What do you want me to do for you?” you will find yourself off the side-lines of life and on the road with Jesus, bound for adventures and struggles and challenges and joys that you would not be willing to trade for any partial life you could have had without him. So go ahead, yell your prayer, even in a crowd, you might just get Jesus’ attention, and then again, he might get yours.