What do you Want?
Mark 10:46-52
Rev. Randy Quinn
Before I read the text today, I
want you to imagine the scene with me. It’s less than a week before the
Passover celebration begins in Jerusalem. People from far and near make the
journey to Jerusalem every year to celebrate this holy day. For some, this is
an annual gathering. For others it’s the once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. There
is excitement in the air.
Maybe you can imagine yourself
living in Jericho. Maybe you are an Innkeeper. This is the time of year you
look forward to because it’s the season that pays the bills throughout the rest
of the year. People are filling the city streets and lodging is at a premium.
People are in a festive mood, so there are larger tips than usual, too. You
never make it to Jerusalem yourself, but you sure are happy to see the crowds!
On the other hand, you might be
one of the pilgrims who come to Jericho every year for what has become a
de-facto family reunion. You haven’t seen your cousins since last year and this
is a time to “ooh” and “ahh” about how much the children look like your
grandmother or how much they have grown since last year. Passover is a family
celebration as well as a religious festival, after all.
Or perhaps you are a first time
participant in the celebrations. Maybe you have lived in lands far away and
have finally saved enough money to join the crowds in celebrating this most
important event in the life of your people. You have a heightened awareness of
the story of your faith as you gather and sing the Psalms, the processional
Psalms, while walking through Jericho and heading up the hill to Jerusalem.
I suspect there are also those who
take advantage of the crowds who gather. Some might be venders selling the
equivalent of modern day T-shirts and key rings. Some would be offering special
seats or maybe a tour package that would include meals and lodging in
Jerusalem. Some may even offer to provide child care or husbandry services
while the pilgrims make the last leg of the trip on foot.
Still others, I suspect, would sit
by the road and ask for alms, preying on the generosity of the pilgrims. They
have no intention of leaving Jericho; after all, the crowds will come back down
the hill next week at the end of the festival. To these beggars, this is the
best kind of crowd to work with – they are in good spirits, there is extra money
to be spent, and it’s a religious holiday that encourages people to give. They
couldn’t ask for anything better.
Added to the mix this year,
however, is the traveling preacher who has brought his own crowd with him. He
is making a reputation as a miracle-worker, but more recently there is talk that
he may be the Messiah, the Son of David, who will ascend the throne and free the
land from Roman rule.
No matter which part of the story
is your part, expectations are high.
It’s all Jesus could do to keep
the expectations of his Disciples in check. For several weeks now – maybe even
several months – he has been trying to get them to see that he would be going to
Jerusalem to die. But now they hear the expectations of the crowd and the
rumors that are circulating and they want to believe a different story, the
story of a King being acclaimed and anointed, the story of a King who might rule
from David’s throne and fulfill the hopes of the people.
The next day, in fact, Jesus will
enter Jerusalem as throngs of people wave their palm branches (Mk. 11:8). But
in our text for today, all of these groups and expectations meet in the city of
Jericho at the bottom of the hill that leads up to Jerusalem.
Read text.
We don’t know the specifics of
Bartimaeus other than what is written here. We know that Bartimaeus was named
after his father, Timaeus. We know he was blind. We know he was begging for
mercy – not necessarily for money. (We know that because he asks for mercy and
because he throws off his cloak, which was in all likelihood used to catch the
coins people would throw his way.)
Unlike the “man born blind” we
know of from John’s gospel, it would seem that Bart was not born blind, but
rather acquired blindness at some point in his life (see Jn. 9 & Mk. 10:51). A
common experience among the people was to contract a disease in which the eye
duct would dry out, and in the arid climate it often let to blindness. It was a
dreaded disease spread by flies, and my guess is that when he begins to cry out
for mercy, the crowd – including the disciples – not only silence him they avoid
him.
But did you know that as a blind
man, he was not welcome at religious festivals? There were prohibitions against
people with disabilities from participating in temple events, a prohibition that
has its roots in the Levitical Law (Lev. 21:17-21). According to those laws
anyone with a blemish was not to participate in sacrifices.
I’m thankful that the church has
not upheld those laws, by the way. We recognize that people who cannot see are
no less human. We know that a person who cannot walk can still know the good
news of God’s love. We believe that disabilities and deformities are not
chosen, and are therefore not to be used to exclude people from the life of
faith.
But poor old Bart didn’t grow up
in the church of today. He was relinquished to a life without worship because
he lived in a different time and a different place.
Now, my guess is that his parents
provided for him, so he was not in need of money. He was, however, in need of
acceptance.
But in some ways he could see
things the people around him were blind to. It was as if he had insight rather
than eyesight.
When he calls out to Jesus as the
Son of David, for example, he may have been acclaiming Jesus as the Messiah (Mk.
10:47-48). He was naming and perhaps professing something that the others were
either afraid to name out loud or were unable to see.
But it could also be that Bart
remembered that King David made room at his table for Mephibosheth, the lame
descendent of King Saul (2 Sam. 4:4 & 9:1-7). Perhaps he was calling Jesus to
make room for the blind and the crippled in his coming kingdom. He may have
been pleading for mercy on behalf of all those who were cast out because of
their disabilities and deformities.
What strikes me in this passage,
however, is how familiar the question Jesus asks sounds. In fact, Jesus asked
the same exact question in our text last week. In the paragraph immediately
preceding our text today, Jesus spoke to James and John who wanted to sit at his
right and his left. The question Jesus asks them is “What do you want me to do
for you?” It’s the same question he asks today (Mk. 10:36, 51).
Last week the disciples asked to
be seen.
This week Bart asks to see.
I was not able to verify the
source of a story I came across, but apparently Charles Osgood originally told
the story.
It’s the story of a man who had been blind for 50 years before receiving his
sight through the miracles of modern laser surgery. In speaking about his
newfound eyesight, the man spoke of the amazing varieties of color – countless
shades of green, the brightness of the yellow leaves, the way light reflects off
windows. He spoke of seeing but not hearing birds flying through the air and
the beauty of the clouds as they roll across the sky.
Charles Osgood reportedly made the
observation that he could not see the way we could until his surgery, and now we
cannot see the way he does.
Maybe the disciples should have
asked to be able to see and Bart could have asked to be seen. After all, if
they had noticed him on the side of the road, maybe they would have made a place
for him in their entourage.
And that leads me to wonder what
we would ask Jesus for?
Would we prefer to have eyesight
or insight?
Sometimes I think the disciples
don’t want to see. Sometimes I think we don’t want to see. We prefer to
look past the beggars on the streets in the cities, just as we prefer not to
notice the lonely in our own community. We prefer not to see the needs because
it might require us to act.
Sometimes we prefer not to know
how we can help; otherwise we might feel obligated to do something.
Sometimes we prefer not to see.
But if we close our eyes, we may
not be able to see the road, either. We may not be able to follow Jesus on his
way to Jerusalem. We may be spared the vision of a man dying on the cross, but
we may not be able to see the empty tomb, either.
So the question remains, what do
you want Jesus to do for you?
Do you want to see or do you want
to be seen?
Would you rather have insight or
eyesight?
Be careful what you ask for,
though. Jesus may give you what you want as well as what you need.
Thanks be to God. Amen.
