Blind Beggar [Proper 25B]

The Rev. Jeremiah Williamson

Mark 10:46-52

Blind Beggar

It was Jesus Day in Jericho.  Finally.  The day had been long circled on the old moon chart, or whatever people in first century Palestine used as calendars.  It was finally here.

I imagine the sun breaking over the rocky hills that special morning; it probably looked a little bit brighter.  Somewhere at the edge of the village a young man is roused from sleep by his alarm.  And after feeding his alarm clock, a rooster, he races into town to join the throng of groupies gathered to get a look at Jesus, to catch a glimpse.  The air in the little village is electric.  Jesus’ reputation preceded him.  Everyone in town was talking, telling stories: about the healings, about the miracles.  And also about the drama.  People just love drama – and Jesus had some pretty dramatic encounters with the religious leaders, with some important people.  It was going to be a good day.  Lives would be changed.  Folks would leave entertained.  Everyone would get their money’s worth.

Also, while typically folks don’t get that excited for sermons, supposedly even Jesus’ sermons were spellbinding.  “Blown away” that’s what folks were saying.  Blown away, by a sermon!  Can you imagine that?!  He didn’t have sterling credentials or the best diplomas but this guy, this Jesus, the power of his words far outpaced his humble beginnings.  Like maybe he was as wise as the Son of David.  Anyway the buzz was so strong that it even reached the blind beggar on the edge of town.  And you know that is some really strong buzz because usually people keep their distance from that guy, try to stay out of earshot so that they don’t feel guilty when he asks them for money.

I imagine the crowd waiting with baited breath to hear those words, those powerful, life-changing words.  And then Jesus stops walking, clears his throat and begins.  And everybody gets chills, you know?  It is one of those moments where all you can do is just train your stare on his lips and your heart starts beating faster because you just know you will never forget this moment.  You will tell you children and your children’s children about the time Jesus came to town and you actually got tickets.  And as the rapt crowd listens, Jesus begins: Blessed are the…”  It’s one of the hits.  Everyone loves when they the play the hits.  This is going to be so good.  “Blessed are the…” 

And then it happens but this can’t be happening.  Not here, not now.  Right in the middle of the sentence comes a deafening shriek: “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me.”  And so the crowd turns to hush the man.  Because, I mean, it’s Jesus.  Who interrupts Jesus?  The people need to know: who is the blessed!?  Is it you?  Is it me?  Is it us?  And again Jesus says, because there is a whole series of these, “Blessed are the…”  And C’MON!  Again?!  “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!”  And the guy just keeps going, louder with every stern warning from the increasingly irritated crowd.      

The city of Jericho has been waiting for this.  And this blind beggar, he is ruining it.  He is ruining Jesus Day.  This was supposed to be, like, the best day ever.  And now this guy, of all people, is making a mess of everything.  It’s not fair.  And Jesus is heading to Jerusalem and so he will never come back to this little town – especially now that he is being harassed by this obnoxious homeless man.  All they want is for the man to just be silent so that they can have the experience that makes getting up early and waiting around in the hot sun worth it, the Jesus experience that the folks in the other villages got.  How dare the beggar ruin this for them?! 

Jesus stops, mid-sentence, mid-journey, and instructs the crowd to call the man over.  The message spreads through the crowd like in a game of telephone.  Until it reaches the very edge of the congregation.  And the last person, the person at the end of the phone line gets to deliver the news to…  They don’t know his name.  You see, Bartimaeus, that isn’t a name.  That is a label, not unlike what he is usually called: blind beggar.  Bartimaeus just means “Son of Timaeus.  The folks in town, they kinda know who he is.  I mean they see him there begging, so they know what he does for a living and they know of his family.  But they don’t know him because it is hard to get to know someone you generally avoid at all costs.  He’s just not that important to them.

Part of the miracle of this story is that a blind man made his way through an irritated crowd and actually found Jesus.  The crowd that was once hostile to his cries and apathetic about his condition, are now members of his miracle.  They become the conduit by which Jesus’ call finds this desperate man.  And they become the hands and feet that guide Bartimaeus to his salvation.  Because it is unlikely he makes it through that crowd on his own.

The size of the crowd, large, according to Mark, tells us that the people have heard some astounding things about Jesus.  They clearly have high expectations.  Those expectations might have been momentarily shaken by Jesus’ question: “So what do you want me to do for you?”  Does Jesus not see that this man is blind?  Because that was probably pretty obvious by the time the man ran into like forty people on his way to Jesus.    

But then again maybe the answer was not so obvious.  I mean it seems obvious to us, especially those of us who are sighted and enjoy being sighted.  And we know Jesus can do it.  We’ve read the stories; he has restored sight to the blind before.  But the crowd, Jesus is new to them; the blind beggar is not.  And anyway, the beggar always asks folks for stuff, that is why they call him the beggar, and typically the stuff he asks for is money.  And so that could be the man’s answer; he could ask Jesus for money, I suppose.  Rather than assume he knows, Jesus treats the man like a person, not a problem; he shows him respect.  He asks him – likely a new experience for this man no one bothers to know. 

And the man says to Jesus, “Let me see again.”   It’s the answer we, as readers, expect.  In fact, by the tenth chapter of Mark’s Gospel, after all of the other healings, it is kind of predictable.  But also it is incredibly brave because this blind man responds knowing that there is a chance that Jesus might actually grant his request.

And if Jesus does, if he does heal him, it would change the man’s life completely.  If Jesus can restore his sight, if Jesus can make this man see, that miracle would turn the man's life upside-down.  Nothing would ever be the same.  And that is scary stuff.   If Jesus heals him, restores his sight, he will lose his identity.  He will no longer be blind.  He could no longer survive as a beggar.  He will just be a man – starting from scratch, with a huge gap in his resume – in search of a new identity.

Sure it was rough being blind in that historical context.  And based on how the man is treated in the Gospel passage today and considering that the people in the village don’t even know his name, blind beggar was not an easy lifestyle.  But at least it is his lifestyle.  And those things we live with, both good and bad, they come to define us.  They become a part of our identity, of who we are, of how the world makes sense of us, of how we see ourselves.  When that blind beggar encountered Jesus, he was instantly changed.  He was made new; he was born again; he was no longer the person he was before, no longer the person he was even that morning.  He was a new man.

Jesus placed a blank check in front of that blind man: what do you want me to do for you?  And that courageous man dared to believe in the impossible, that Jesus could do the impossible in his life.  He could have asked for anything.  He asked to be free.  He asked to be set free from the very thing that had come to define him – in the eyes of the world, even in his own eyes.  He was the blind beggar.  But he dared to believe that he could be more.  He dared to believe he could become what Jesus saw in him.

When Jesus called him, the blind beggar, called Bartimaeus, he threw off his cloak.  That is the first thing he did.  Now Jericho is a very warm place; during the summer months the average daily high is in the triple digits.  Folks generally don’t wear cloaks during the daytime, not under that blazing hot sun.  But a beggar needed a cloak; you see, a cloak was a tool of the trade.  It was spread out under the person and used to collect the coins that dropped from the hands above.  And so of course this blind beggar had a cloak.

But when Jesus called, he threw it off, like Lazarus’ bindings or a prisoner’s chains.  He threw it off and left the cloak behind, in the dust.  To chase after the voice of Jesus.  He believed that Jesus could set him free, could heal him, could give him a new life, a new way of living in the world.  And he decided that once he started walking into that foggy new future with Jesus there would be no going back.  This man, he had the courage to place his future, whatever that would be, in the healing, redeeming, saving hands of Jesus.  He had the courage to believe in something more, something better.  Because of Jesus.

Jesus gave this man more than eye sight; Jesus gave him a new identity, and a new hope for a better future.  People would no longer look at him with the same disdain.  They would never again look down on him, begging on the side of the road.  And he would never look at himself or his world in the same way either. 

When Jesus shows up, he never leaves us the same.  He loves us too much for that.  And he loves this world too much for that.  By the miracle of his love, Jesus allows us to see ourselves through the eyes of God.  The truth is: you are so much more than you think you are.  You are so much more than the labels you wear or the chains that hold you back.  You are so much more than what the crowds see when they pass you by.  You are so much more than your flaws and your ailments, more than your shortcomings, more than all those things that have defined you in the eyes of others.  You are so much more.  Do you have the courage to believe that? 

What do you want Jesus to do for you?  Or maybe the question is, what do you want Jesus to do through you for this divided nation, for this broken world, to help usher in a future better than our present, one that looks more like the Kingdom of God?  What do you want Jesus to do?  Consider the question carefully.  Because Jesus might just do it.