Blind Bartimaeus

 

God’s grace, peace and mercy be with you. My sermon title is CCD. My focus is our Gospel (Mark 10:46-52). Let us pray. Heavenly Father, the psalmist wrote, “I rejoiced when they said to me, ‘Let us go to the house of the Lord.’” Now that our feet are within your gates, we rejoice to hear your Word. As we listen, may your Spirit enlighten our minds and move our hearts to love deeply as Jesus loved. This we pray to you, Most Holy Trinity. Amen.

CCD stands is short for a few topics. If you grew up Catholic and attended public school, you probably attended CCD or Confraternity of Christian Doctrine class. If you work with digital cameras, you may know that CCDs are sensors used to record still and moving images. If you are a public-school educator, you may access the Common Core of Data, the Department of Education's primary database on public education in the US. Maybe your vet understands CCD as canine compulsive disorder, a behavioral condition in dogs, similar to human obsessive-compulsive disorder (OCD).

I am not talking about religious education, cameras or canines. Today, CCD stands for Call, Clothing and Dialogue. Bartimaeus’ call to Jesus, the clothing he wore and the dialogue between the Lord and the blind man. After all that, a quiz.

To call means to cry out, summon, invoke, demand, order or give a name to from the early Germanic kall meaning to speak, say or tell. When I call my wife to get her attention, I can walk into our house and shout, “Cindy!” If I am outside and Maggie does not respond to me calling her, I can press a button on a remote that activates a stimulus device on her e-collar. It vibrates and she returns to me. If I’m sitting in the bleachers, I wave my arms while holding cash to get the attention of the popcorn vendor. Before texting, I might have had someone paged.

In our Gospel today, Bartimaeus calls to Jesus. Notice that Jesus was leaving Jericho for Jerusalem with his disciples and a sizeable crowd. Jesus was on the way. Bartimaeus was by the roadside. He was not going anywhere. He was blind. His blindness was symbolic of the blindness of all who have not had their eyes opened in faith by Christ.[1] He sat by the road begging pedestrians for money. Hearing that Jesus of Nazareth was nearby, he called out to him. In spite of those surrounding him who tried to silence Bartimaeus, he persisted.

Note that Mark introduces the blind beggar as Bartimaeus, son of Timaeus. It is the same way that he introduced us to James, son of Zebedee. The father was better known than the son, but it could also be a parallel designation. The son of Timaeus called the Son of David. In short, Bartimaeus was the son of an unknown father with a Greek name. Jesus was the son of King David.[2]

So, Bartimaeus called out, “Jesus, Son of David,” but the second time he called, he used only the title – Son of David – and not the name – Jesus. Why did Mark record the call like this? This title was not used in early Christian writings. We find only one reference in Paul. He wrote in Romans 1 that God’s Son, Jesus, “descended from David according to the flesh and was declared to be the Son of God in power according to the Spirit of holiness by his resurrection from the dead.”[3] Mark used it two other times.[4] His aim was to purify the title of any hope for a restoration of David’s earthly kingdom. He did the same with another title – Christ – as he associated it with the dying and rising of the Son of Man. The title Christ was purified of all political and military expectations.

Bartimaeus’ call is a plea for pity well known among Jews. It is used nearly 20 times in the Psalms. In Psalm 6, it is a prayer for healing. In Psalm 26, a prayer for redemption; in 27, for salvation; and in 51, for forgiveness. In short, Bartimaeus’ call was a prayer. And while many rebuked him, Bartimaeus persisted in his call, in his prayer – to God!

Now, let’s move to my second C, Clothing. How often have you been confronted by beggars? Not many beggars outside of Pittsburgh. Other than someone holding a sign at an intersection, where have you seen one around here? And those we do encounter are quite tame compared to the ones I met in San Francisco. I mean, even 14 years ago when I lived in the Bay Area, beggars confronted pedestrians within seconds of them emerging from a BART station (which has nothing to do with Bartimaeus). They were so obnoxious that even the beggars in Berkeley, where I worked, viewed them with disdain.

Bartimaeus, on the other hand, showed amazing energy and quickness. Immediately, he jumped up like a Jack Russell Terrier and ran to Jesus. But before he did that, Mark recorded that he threw aside his cloak. Street people do not cast away clothing – even tattered rags – until they have something better. But this man was no ordinary beggar. He wanted something more valuable than his most prized possession.

This beggar pinned all his hopes on Jesus. All of them. He hoped against all hope that Jesus would provide everything he needed. Everything. And somehow, he knew that with Jesus he would no longer be a beggar.

In Biblical culture, clothing expressed a person’s identity. It was a personal symbol and played an important role in someone’s self-communication.[5] Bartimaeus wanted to join Jesus and his disciples on the way. To do this, he had to throw off his cloak, symbol of his former self and way of life, because he is following Christ on the way to his passion-resurrection. And no one, said Jesus, sews a piece of unshrunken cloth to an old cloak.[6] Becoming a disciple of Jesus meant more than patching up your old identity. It called for throwing off that identity for good and putting on a new one.[7]

Early Christians applied putting off old clothing and putting on new clothing in the baptismal rites. For Bartimaeus, putting off his old cloak for something new meant that he was ready to join Christ on the way to his death and resurrection. For us, it means the same because of our baptism. Well, I am not a clothes hog or a fashionable dresser, and I don’t have much else to say about clothing. So, let’s proceed to my third point, Dialogue.

A dialogue can be a written composition in which two or more characters are represented as conversing or a conversation between two or more persons. The Greek word dialogos means conversation, and is formed by joining the words dia meaning across (diagram, diaphragm, etc.) and legein meaning to speak. The dialogue in our passage goes like this.

 

Bartimaeus: “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!” “Son of David, have mercy on me!”

Jesus: “Call him.”

Disciples: “Take heart. Get up; he is calling you.”

Jesus: “What do you want me to do for you?”

Bartimaeus “Rabbi, let me recover my sight.”

Jesus: “Go your way; your faith has made you well.”

 

The dialogue between Jesus and Bartimaeus opens with an introductory question: “What do you want me to do for you?” It is a strange question to ask a beggar. Why not, “What do you want me to give you?” But the man was not asking for money; he was ready for anything Jesus could do. Of course, he was. He gave up his only possession.

Bartimaeus’ response was specific. While our text uses the word rabbi, better translations use Rabbouni, the equivalent of Kyrios or Lord. To the point, the man wants to recover his sight. He was not always blind, but wanted to see again. Until now, Bartimaeus was not on the way with Jesus, but having thrown off his cloak, he was eager to see where he was going with Jesus.

To the ordinary reader of Mark, it may seem that Jesus ignored Bartimaeus’ request when He said, “Go your way; your faith has made you well.” Yet, the word “go,” was used in the sense that Bartimaeus was healed. It is no ordinary dismissal that a supervisor would say to an employee for it is grounded in what Jesus did. The man’s faith saved him.

There you have it: CCD – Call, Cloak and Dialogue. Now what? Now, let’s look at a few other people Jesus met on the way to Jerusalem beginning with the first blind man. I want you to go back and read Mark 8:22-10:52 and see the many characters Jesus met on his way to Jerusalem. Here, now, is my quiz.

Am I like any of them? Am I blind like the two men who bookend this section? Am I comfortable or obtuse like Peter? Addicted to my way of thinking, acting and living like James, John and the other disciples? Paralyzed like the possessed boy’s father crying out to help my unbelief? Addicted or in love with worldly possessions, prestige or power like the rich man who walked away from Jesus’ offer for eternal life? Am I doubtful like those wondering if Jesus’ offer is too good to be true – that I will receive a hundredfold more if I follow him? Do I try to influence or intimidate others who cry to God for pity? Have I reached a point of desperation, but fear calling out to Jesus? Or are there days when I just don’t love my neighbor and God very much?

Folks, when you turn to Christ in prayer, you’re not asking for help from one with political or military power. You’re not begging from one rich and famous. When you call to Christ, you’re speaking to a man stripped of all clothing and human dignity, one weak and nearly dead, one scorned and spat upon, forsaken by friends and followers. And you must wonder what this man can do for you.

In the end, Bartimaeus received his sight and followed Jesus on the way. He joined the Christ, the Son of David, the Son of Man as a servant and a slave. Bartimaeus showed that giving up everything to be saved and receive a hundredfold in the present age and the age to come was worth it. He would enter the kingdom of God because, in giving up everything, he accepted the kingdom like a child. Everything became possible because he had faith and turned to Christ in prayer.

Friends, I close with this. Today, we observe Reformation Sunday. Throughout his lifetime, Martin Luther taught a great many people so much about God’s love, grace, mercy and what faith means in the shadow of Christ’s cross. He criticized popes and priests, praised his wife, family and friends. He said many things that people remember – “Here I stand.” – “Peace, if possible, truth at all costs.” – and many others. But perhaps the most important words were not posted on a church door or printed in a book. The words were scribbled on a note found in his pocket after he died. “Wir sind pettler, hoc est verum” “We are all beggars, this is true.”

Today, take time to dialogue with God about your need for mercy. Listen to Him speaking to you, and when you do, may the peace of God that surpasses all understanding, keep your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus. Amen.

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[1] Eugene LaVerdiere, Mark. 122.

[2] LaVerdiere, 122.

[3] Romans 1:3-4.

[4] Mark 11:10; 12:35-37.

[5] LaVerdiere, 127.

[6] Mark 2:21.

[7] LaVerdiere, 127. If you want to read more about clothing, I encourage you to turn to four passages from Paul Galatians 3: 26-29; Romans 13:12-14; Colossians 3:9-11; Ephesians 4:20-24.