The Healing Power of Faith
The Healing Power of Faith
Rev. Lee Ann Bryce
Community Christian Church
November 13, 2011
They 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. When he heard that it was Jesus of Nazareth, he began to shout out and say, “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!” Many sternly ordered him to be quiet, but he cried out even more loudly, “Son of David, have mercy on me!” Jesus stood still and said, “Call him here.” 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. Then 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.” Jesus said to him, “Go; your faith has made you well.” Immediately he regained his sight and followed him on the way. Mark 10:46-52
The past few weeks we’ve been exploring awareness and inclusion, both in the Bible and for our time. Two weeks ago we talked about Jesus’ healing of a man who was deaf, then last week, Jen, embodied the “bent over” woman whom Jesus also healed. Today, Bartimaeus’ story provides our text and the fact that we can refer to it as “Bartimaeus’” story is the first unique aspect of this particular story. This is the only healing text in which the person who is healed is identified by name. We are told that he is Bartimaeus, son of Timaeus.
There are five different texts in the gospels that deal with Jesus healing someone who is blind. Whenever sermons are preached on these texts, blindness itself almost always has some negative connotation. (You know, “how are we blind; how do we refuse to see God’s direction for our lives?” or something like that.) One way or another, blindness becomes the metaphor for our refusal to pay attention to what God wants for us. Is it appropriate in a sermon to use the physical reality of some as a metaphor for the sinful behavior of others? I don’t believe that it is. So, today, this hour of worship includes only words and music that honor some very gifted people who also happen to be blind. There will be no equating blindness, even metaphorically with living in some state of sin. And thanks to the wonder of multi-media, people who are themselves blind, are representing themselves worship. So we enjoy the images of artist John Bramblitt. (These are his works shown on the screen during this sermon.) We heard from The Blind Boys of Alabama, recipients of multiple Grammies. The group was formed at the Alabama Institute of the Negro Blind in Talladega, Alabama in 1939. Our prayer response and the choir’s anthem were written by Ken Medema, an amazing contemporary composer writing today. “Amazing Grace,” which we will sing in a few moments is written by Fanny Crosby who was blind. (And we’ll have another little surprise for the postlude.)
Though it was my intention not to include any metaphorical connections between blindness and sin, I’ll tell you right now, you’ll notice at least one exception to that, if you look closely. “Amazing Grace,” includes the line, “I once was lost, but now am found, was blind but now I see.” I read this week of an African American clergywoman who has been on the cutting edge of justice issues, fighting for the rights of persons with disabilities. She is blind herself and she was asked what she does with that line from “Amazing Grace.” She said, “Oh, I just stand up and sing ‘was blind and still can’t see!’”
In Jesus’ day, persons who were blind were relegated to begging on the side of the road in order to survive. We have come a long way. Today, those who are blind can enjoy full lives. There are limitations of course (a person who is blind cannot drive a car). And certainly other factors can complicate the life of a person who is blind. The educational process can be difficult. Sometimes it’s more challenging to find a job. Blind people are not unique in facing these challenges, of course, and there are so many programs and support services available today that persons who are blind in the United States can function very well. (I met a woman the other day who is an audio describer at GEVA. With the use of an earphone, she narrates the stage movements that a blind person cannot see that are important to the plot or just the general enjoyment of theatre.)
Trust is one of the major issues faced by persons who are blind. They have no choice but to trust people around them – not just friends and family, but complete strangers. They trust their coworkers not to move the furniture without telling them. They trust that cashiers will give them correct change. They trust that someone around will tell them which is a $5 bill, which are ones, and which are tens. They trust the person who reads their mail to keep confidential things confidential. Trusting others is not an option. Relationships with others are crucial.
Our text for today is the story of Bartimaeus. His story takes place on the roadside. We are told that Jesus and his followers have joined a large crowd on their way to Jerusalem. Let me set the scene. Our story opens with this crowd leaving Jericho. It was common for people to travel in large groups, for safety reasons or companionship, so it would almost have looked like a parade. Those who couldn’t make the journey would gather along the roadside to see the spectacle and to bid the travelers well. The travelers and the well-wishers aren’t the only ones on the road. Beggars always sat on the road because they wanted to be where the people were. They would beg for alms to survive.
Our story tells us that one particular beggar is named Bartimaeus. He is blind, begs to survive, and spends his days by the roadside depending on others’ compassion. He is literally pushed to the edge, the outer margins, due to his condition. Being blind, Bartimaeus would first have heard the commotion, the murmurs spreading among the crowd, passed from person to person. Jesus of Nazarth is coming! Bartimaeus wouldn’t have known exactly how far away Jesus was, but he’s not taking. Immediately he calls out, “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!” He’s not one to sit back and feel sorry for himself or to wait for someone to approach him and offer help. He takes the initiative in assertively seeking what he feels he needs.
And what does the crowd do when Bartimaeus cries out? They tell him to pipe down. Somebody shut this guy up, it’s embarrassing. He is just a beggar. Where does he get off drawing all this attention to himself. Does he really expect to get Jesus’ attention???
Frankly, I see a lot of similarities today, do you? We’re just a little more comfortable if persons who with a disability are invisible – out of sight, out of mind. When it comes right down to it, we’re sympathetic, but we’d prefer if they kept quiet and passive rather than vocal and assertive. After all, if they make noise, then it might require more of us than we’re willing to give. Don’t make too big a fuss advocating for yourself. “We’ll” help you if we can.
But Bartimaeus is not about to accept a passive role for himself. He doesn’t ask for anyone’s pity but neither is he an invisible object by the roadside. No. He takes control of his life, ignoring those who are telling him to shut up, and cries out even louder: “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!”
Instead of ignoring Bartimaeus’ cry, Jesus stops in the middle of his journey and tells the people to inform Bartimaeus that he wants to talk to him. The crowd wants to make Bartimaeus invisible, but with his action, Jesus makes him visible. Jesus acknowledges his humanity and offers him respect.
And do you notice what happens in the crowd when Jesus responds like this? They change their tune pretty quick. Take heart, dear Bartimaeus! Get up, Jesus is calling you! Such fond and encouraging words from the same crowd that moments before told Bartimaeus to shut up.
In Jesus’ response to Bartimaeus we see a timeless truth: sometimes is just takes one person to shift a situation. Jesus models how to honor someone considered expendable by society and the entire mood is changed.
Bartimaeus throws off his cloak, jumps up and goes to Jesus. As a blind beggar, your cloak was pretty important not only to keep you warm, but it functioned as a first-century collection plate of sorts. It was your livelihood. Throwing it off was a bold act of trust and courage for Bartimaeus. Once he throws it off, he might not find it again. So, he risks almost everything, jumps up and goes to Jesus. I wonder how he found him. Did the crowd help him? Did Jesus say, “I’m over here!” or offer some verbal cues so that Bartimaeus can find him?
For perhaps the first time in his life, Bartimaeus is treated as a person in his own right who has the ability to make his own decisions. Jesus says, “What do you want me to do for you?” You might think, well, what does he think he wants? But this is a very significant question. With this question, Bartimaeus becomes a participant in his own healing. He decides what would be healing for him when he says, “My teacher, let me see again.”
Jesus speaks the words, “Go, your faith has made you well,” and Bartimaeus receives his sight. What do you suppose Jesus meant with these words? Was he referring to Bartimaeus’ stubbornness in not allowing himself to be silenced by the crowd? Perhaps he meant Bartimaeus’ resiliency to meet his situation. Maybe it was that Bartimaeus’ had faith that Jesus could heal him? But, had Jesus really healed him. According to Jesus, it was Bartimaeus’ faith that made the difference.
Though we can’t know with any certainty, we find at least two models for inclusion in this story, two important examples that remain so relevant today. First, in Bartimaeus himself. Here is a man who had lost his sight, but who had not his dream of the way he wanted his life to be. Though condemned to the margins, he insisted on advocating for himself, putting himself at risk to reach out.
And second, in Jesus. Jesus takes the time to recognize and pay attention to this one man, this one outcast. It would have been so much easier to simply wave to the crowd and go on his way. There were miles to go to get to Jerusalem. Who had time to find that one guy in the crowd yelling at him? Instead, Jesus chooses to buck the social mores of the day and to seek Bartimaeus out. And then he asks him what he wants. Too often, those in power make decisions for others who they feel are helpless or incapable of making their own decisions. You know, that “us” and “them” mentality. We decide what is best for them without even asking. Jesus lets Bartimaeus decide for himself. And when Jesus speaks to Bartimaeus face-to-face, he treats him with respect. He allows him to decide for himself what he wants for his life.
If those in power decide unilaterally what is best for others, though it may come from a good place, the result is to deny the other’s agency. It’s so easy to decide what is best for another without even asking. Jesus lets Bartimaeus decide for himself. Jesus provides this model not only for serving others but also for treating “even the least of these” with respect and dignity.
Treating all people with respect and dignity is a high calling. It is an invitation that Jesus extended to that crowd so long ago and to us on this very day. In Bartimaeus’ story, we find our own. This church has made tremendous strides toward that “higher ground” of honoring the sanctity of each person, but we’re not quite there yet. Like the Blind Boys of Alabama sang in our video, “People gotta keep on learnin.’ Teachers keep on teachin’, preachers keep on preachin’, Believers keep on believin’, ‘til we reach the higher ground,” together.
Amen. So be it.
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