The Rev. Kristin Krantz, St. James’, Mt. Airy Pentecost 22/Proper 25B, 1024/2021
Job 42:1-6, 10-17, Psalm 34:1-8, Hebrews 7:23-28, Mark 10:46-52
Gracious God, take our minds and think through them; take our hands and work through them;
take our hearts and set them on fire. Amen.
We are in the ninth week of a twelve-week chronological journey through several chapters in the Gospel of Mark. This is our last walk with Mark, as in five weeks we will begin a new liturgical year – Year C, where our companion will be Luke for the coming year.
But for now we’re still with Mark, so let’s begin with a look at the big picture of this journey we’re on.[1]
Today’s passage is both a bookend and a gateway. As a bookend, it concludes the central section of Mark’s Gospel (8:22-10:52 – a section that began with Jesus healing another blind man). And as a gateway, it introduces the next section of the story, Jesus’ triumphant arrival in Jerusalem.
As we have seen over the past few weeks, the primary theme of this central section of Mark has been what it means to “see” – to understand – and to follow Jesus, the Messiah who comes not on a warhorse but as a suffering servant.
Three times Jesus has had to explain that point, and three times the disciples have failed to see. And now in this week’s story, the capstone to the entire arc, Mark presents Bartimaeus, who manages to see what they did not.
Now Mark rarely provides names for the people Jesus heals, and the name “Bartimaeus” in particular is full of resonance. Bar means “son of,” and Timaeus may have brought several things to mind for Mark’s early audiences: Plato’s dialogue, Timaeus, includes a song in praise of sight; Aramaic speakers may have heard a wordplay on a term for “unclean”; and Greek speakers may have heard a wordplay on a term for “highly prized.”
Mark, then, presents Bartimaeus as the ideal disciple. Though he is blind, he exceeds Jesus’ friends in insight; though he is a poor beggar, he exceeds the rich man we read about a few weeks ago in leaving behind his possessions; and though the cross is just around the corner, he does not “Go,” as Jesus tells him to do, but rather follows Jesus “on the Way.”
With that stage set, let’s continue with some deeper reflection today’s reading.[2]
First, upon hearing Bartimaeus call out to him, Jesus stops in his tracks and sends for him – recalling a similar scene in Mark 5 where Jesus stops as a large crowd obscures the woman who touched his cloak and was healed.
A cloak is featured in today’s passage as well, this time belonging not to Jesus, but to Bartimaeus – who throws off his cloak to come to Jesus.
Mark often uses “cloaks” to symbolize a dramatic shift, or a person leaving behind the old order of things[3] for a changed and new life in Christ. Bartimaeus’ gesture also stands in contrast to that earlier rich young man who would not part from his possessions.
Continuing the pattern of resonances from earlier scripture passages, the interaction between Jesus and Bartimaeus, which culminates in his healing, is rife with meaning.
When Bartimaeus approaches Jesus after catching his attention, Jesus asks him, “What do you want me to do for you?” This is the same question Jesus asked James and John in last week’s Gospel reading – and it paints a vivid contrast between them on the one hand, and Bartimaeus on the other.
While the supposed “insiders” displayed spiritual hubris with their answer (let us sit on either side of you in your glory), the supposed “outsider” models a fitting blend of boldness and humility: “My teacher, let me see again,” – a request that, in the context of this central section of Mark, has both physical and spiritual dimensions.
And finally, we get to the sticky part. Jesus said to him, “Go; your faith has made you well.”
Now there is power in working for our own healing, whether that’s taking care of our bodies, engaging in therapy, repairing relationships, or anything else that brings wholeness to our lives.
And it is faithful to ask to God give us strength to do this work, to be present with us in healing.
But scripture passages such as this also have a downside. They have helped to create a uniquely American theology called the Prosperity Gospel.
It is the belief that financial blessing and physical well-being are the will of God for people because of their faith and positive speech. Prosperity theology views the Bible as a contract between God and humans: if humans have faith in God, God will deliver security and prosperity.
The flip side of this, of course, is that if you don’t enjoy financial blessings or physical well-being, it is somehow your fault – you don’t have enough faith, you don’t have the right kind of faith, you’re not praying the right way, etc.
If there is one thing I hope you hear today and never forget, it’s that that’s not how God works. And that’s not how faith works.
Yes, we have a responsibility to live faithfully, with lives transformed by the Gospel, if we are to follow Christ – but the belief that our faith makes God act (or not) in particular ways is wrong, and what’s more, it’s toxic. It can lead us to think that we don’t “have enough faith” and it can send us down the spiral of shame and self-recrimination. That takes us further from God, not closer.
But more than even that, it doesn’t allow any space for God’s grace in our lives – for that ineffable, unmerited love of God that is always seeking us out in spite of the ways in which we fall short.
As author Ann Lamott puts it, “I do not understand the mystery of grace – only that it meets us where we are and does not leave us where it found us.”
That is the experience of Bartimaeus, both physically and spiritually, because his healing was not the end of the story. Our Gospel reading ends today not with Go; your faith has made you well but with Immediately he regained his sight and followed him on the way.
Bartimaeus asked for healing, but it was his experience of God’s grace that truly transformed him and made him whole. He is the last disciple to join the fold as Jesus sets his eyes on that way toward Jerusalem. And for all that we know what will happen there, this is a story of hope.
Because it is a story of God meeting us where we are in our imperfections. It is a story of reaching out in faith to God. And it is a story of God meeting us with healing and wholeness. All of this is founded on hope and trust in God’s love, mercy, and grace.
May
we, like Bartimaeus, live in hope and reach out in faith to God, following Jesus’
way of love. Amen.
[1] Continued reference in this section to The SALT Project’s lectionary commentary (http://www.saltproject.org/progressive-christian-blog/).
[2] Continued reference in this section to The SALT Project’s lectionary commentary (http://www.saltproject.org/progressive-christian-blog/).
[3] See Mark 2:21, 11:7-8, 13:16 for examples.