Sometimes what the Bible
does not say is as interesting as what it does say. For example, how many gallons of ink have
been spilled in wondering about what Jesus was doing in the twenty or so years
before he began his public ministry.
The public ministry of Jesus began (Luke tells us) when he was “about
thirty years old” (Luke 3.23). The next
earliest story we have of Jesus (also from Luke) is his visit to the Temple
when he was about twelve years old (Luke 2.42). Twenty years of Jesus’ life pass in silence. Did he spend the time quietly working as a
carpenter in Nazareth? Did he travel beyond
Palestine? Was he abducted by
aliens? But the New Testament leaves
with nothing but silence.
I’m even more intrigued by
the story of the woman caught in adultery.
When she is brought before Jesus, he stoops to the ground and writes in
the dirt with his finger. (John
8.6) It’s the only account the Bible
gives us of Jesus writing. What do you
suppose he wrote? One preacher
suggested that Jesus wrote the names of the men in the crowd who had committed
adultery themselves!
Today’s gospel also leaves
us with an intriguing silence. “Jesus
and his disciples 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!"
Mark tells us that Jesus
and his disciples arrived in Jericho and that they left, but tells us nothing
of what happened in between. How long
were they there? Did Jesus teach and preach? Did he weave any new tales of prodigal sons
and good Samaritans? Of lost sheep and
priceless pearls? And above all, I
wonder, did he work any miracles? But
undoubtedly something happened while Jesus and the disciples were in Jericho.
But before we get to what
might have happened in Jericho, consider the significance of Jericho
itself. Jericho, now as then, is an
important town. It is situated in an
oasis in the desolate wasteland between Jerusalem and the Jordan River. It is about 15 miles east of Jerusalem, just
on the other side of the hills that stand between Jerusalem and the
Jordan. It was an important commercial
center and trading post on the principal road that connected Jerusalem with the
Jordan Valley and points east. But its
religious significance outweighed even its commercial significance. Jericho was the point at which the
Israelites had entered the Promised Land.
Jericho symbolized God’s fulfillment of the divine promise to Israel
that they would enter and possess a land flowing with milk and honey.
Thus Jesus’ choice of
routes into Jerusalem was full of significance. He could have traveled from Nazareth to Jerusalem via the flat
coastal plain, passing along near the sites of modern-day Haifa and Tel Aviv. But instead he chose the rougher, more arid
interior route of the Jordan Valley.
Jesus’ journey recapitulated Israel’s journey. But there was a difference:
Israel journeyed from the wilderness to the promised land, but Jesus
journeyed from the promised land to the cross.
However, each went via Jericho.
So, what do you supposed
happened between the first and second sentences of today’s gospel reading? Between “they came to Jericho” and “as he
and his disciples and a large crowd were leaving”? That something happened is beyond doubt. Something happened that came to the
attention of blind Bartimaeus.
Imagine Bartimaeus’
world. Marks tells us that Bartimaeus
said to Jesus, “Let me see again”.
Bartimaeus is different from the blind man whose healing is recounted in
the 9th chapter of John’s gospel who was blind from birth. Bartimaeus had once had sight but had lost
it. I imagine that Bartimaeus’ desire
for healing was greater, much greater, than the blind man in John’s
gospel. He had had something precious
and had lost it. The loss of sight must
cause inconceivable anguish. I imagine
that Bartimaeus had had to struggle with bitterness because of his enormous
loss.
It is somewhat redundant
to refer to Bartimaeus as a “blind beggar”.
He was blind, so of course, he was a beggar. He had no alternative. He
sat beside the road and begged for spare change. However, Mark portrays Bartimaeus as a man of decisiveness and
action, not as a passive victim. Rather
than passively accept his fate, Bartimaeus refuses to be ignored. He shouts.
He makes a scene. He shouts
Jesus’ name. The crowd hushes him. “Many sternly ordered him to be quiet…” But Mark tells us that Bartimaeus “cried out
even more loudly” and shouted Jesus’ name again.
A detail I find especially
poignant is that when Jesus notices Bartimaeus and calls for him to come to
him, Bartimaeus throws off his cloak.
What do you suppose that cloak represented to Bartimaeus? Just how many cloaks would a blind beggar of
the first century possess? Perhaps he had
a begging bowl and a staff, but I doubt he would have much else. That cloak may have represented anywhere
from 25% to 50% of Bartimaeus’ possessions.
It is even more powerful when we think of the story of the rich man who
came to Jesus earlier in the tenth chapter of Mark’s gospel. When Jesus told him to sell all that he had
and give the money to the poor, he “went away grieving, for he had many
possessions”. What a contrast with
Bartimaeus who, with joyful abandon throws away his cloak, perhaps his most
expensive possession!
As a sightless man
Bartimaeus’ only way of learning about the world was via his other senses,
mainly his sense of hearing. What
Bartimaeus knew about Jesus he would have learned by listening. So whatever Jesus did during his visit to
Jericho, Bartimaeus must have learned about it by listening to the buzz of the
crowds. He could not observe
directly.
From the few remarks of
Bartimaeus that Mark records, it is plain to me that Bartimaeus knew two things
about Jesus. First, he believed that
Jesus was the Messiah. As Jesus is
leaving Jericho, Bartimaeus shouts, “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on
me!” “Son of David” is a messianic
title. The Messiah was thought of as
the heir of the throne of David, the one who would re-establish a united
kingdom of Israel and Judah, as David had.
Secondly, Bartimaeus knew that Jesus could heal. When he and Jesus come face to face,
Bartimaeus poignantly says, “My teacher, let me see again”.
So much for what
Bartimaeus knew about Jesus. What do
you suppose Jesus knew about Bartimaeus?
Again, we don’t know how long Jesus had been in Jericho or what he had
done there. Perhaps he had taught
extensively. Undoubtedly, he had
healed. Otherwise, why would Bartimaeus
have begged Jesus to heal him? More
than likely, Jesus was tired. But most
importantly, Jesus was on his way to Jerusalem, to the cross, to his
death. There must have been much on his
mind and heart. And then suddenly, as
he was leaving Jericho, faintly, from the edge of the crowd that thronged
around him closely, he heard a noise, some kind of disturbance. And then it came again, and the second time,
he could make out the words, “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!” And Jesus told the crowd to bring to him the
man who was calling out for him.
Perhaps the most powerful
detail in this story is the question that Jesus asks Bartimaeus: “What do you want me to do for you?” It is powerful because it is almost
word-for-word what Jesus had said to James and John in the story immediately
preceding the healing of Bartimaeus. “James and John, the sons of Zebedee, came forward to
Jesus and said to him, ‘Teacher, we want you to do for us whatever we ask of
you.’ And he said to them, ‘What is it you want me to do for you?’ And
they said to him, ‘Grant us to sit, one at your right hand and one at your
left, in your glory.’” (Mark 10.35-37)
What a contrast! James and John had wanted glory, power,
fame, and perhaps riches. They had
wanted the choicest seats in the Kingdom of God. In contemporary terms, they had wanted Jesus to choose them as
his running mates! But Bartimaeus had
only wanted his sight; he only wanted Jesus to restore the ability he had once
had to see the orange sunset, the petals of a daisy, the smile of a loved one.
Mark forces us to ask the
questions: Who was really blind? And who really received their sight? Plainly, the rich man whose great wealth had
kept him from “inheriting eternal life” was blind when he came to Jesus and
blind when he left. Bartimaeus, on the
other hand, threw away the greatest part of his worldly possessions. Can you see his cloak flying from his hand
as he runs toward Jesus as fast as his blindness would permit him?
James and John were at
least as blind as the rich man who could not part with his great
possessions. They understood the
kingdom of God in terms of power and status; for them the kingdom was about who
was in and who was out; who had front row seats and who was in the “nosebleed” section. In contrast, Bartimaeus asked for nothing
more (and nothing less) than God’s first creation and gift to the world: light.
How do we know that
Bartimaeus was healed? That’s obvious,
isn’t it? Mark says that “immediately,
he regained his sight…” Nothing could
be clearer. However, there is more,
much more. Bartimaeus could have
regained his sight and remained blind.
Mark has placed the story
of Bartimaeus’ healing in a very
significant place. It takes place
immediately before Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem. It takes place just before the
last week of Jesus’ earthly life.
Jesus, as I said earlier, is on his way to Jerusalem, to the cross, to
death. Everything in Mark’s gospel
leads up to this point. Although Mark
tells us of only one other blind man that Jesus heals, it could be argued that
virtually everyone in Mark’s gospel is blind, especially the disciples. The disciples consistently fail to
understand what Jesus is all about.
Peter confesses that Jesus is the Messiah but is horrified when Jesus
foretells his death on the cross. James
and John ask Jesus to give them preferential treatment.
Blind Bartimaeus is one of
the few people in Mark’s gospel who really see. And we know this by the last five words in chapter ten. “Immediately he regained his sight, and followed
him on the way”.
Mark presents us with a
stark choice: Will we be like the rich
man and let our possessions or accomplishments come between Jesus and us? Will we be like James and John and think of
the service of God as a means for self-advancement? Or will we be like Bartimaeus?
Will we let nothing keep us from crying out in prayer to God? Will we toss aside whatever gets in our way
and run as fast as we can toward Jesus?
And above all, will we “follow him on the way”, even though we know that
it is the way of the cross?
