SEEING THE WORLD
Mark 10:46-52
October 25, 2009 – Reformation Sunday
Rev. Janet Robertson
Duggins
What do you suppose
Bartimaeus saw, when his sight was restored?
Light, of course. Maybe dim at first, and slowly growing brighter,
or maybe all of a sudden his eyes were dazzled with the brightness of it. Either way it must have been astounding for
him.
What else? the sky, the earth, the sun. Rocks, trees, flowers, fields of grain. Colors.
Light and shadow. Houses, and all the other buildings of the
town. Barns, and probably animals –
donkeys carrying loads, dogs and cats running around, sheep grazing on the
hillsides, birds in the trees. And people. Jesus face might have been the first one he
saw, and then, gathered around, a crowd of familiar voices with unfamiliar
faces, perhaps. Bartimaeus probably had
to listen to them speak to figure out what face belonged to whom. At some point, he must have seen the faces
of friends, his family, maybe even his wife or children.
Probably there would be
things his friends would want to show him – things he hadn’t seen as long as
he’d been blind, and we don’t know how long that might have been. There would have been a lot to see. It might have been a little frightening at
first: I saw a movie once about a blind
man who got his sight back, and he found the all brightness and movement and visual
stimulation of the sighted world bewildering and overwhelming for a while. Maybe it was that way for Bartimaeus,
too. But there would have been a lot to
marvel at as well. A lot of beauty, and
some fascinating things. Just imagine
what it must have been like to see a flock of chickens or a lake or the stars
or a butterfly or a baby’s face if you have been without sight for a long
time. A handicap like blindness is
isolating; surely in some ways seeing again re-connected Bartimaeus with the
world.
I wonder about what else
Bartimaeus saw, though, as he “followed Jesus on the way.” Especially I wonder if he ever had moments
when he felt a little sorry he had gotten his sight back. There must have been things he saw that he
wished he didn’t have to see: a hungry
child, a grieving mother, acts of violence or betrayal, shantytowns full of
hopeless people, careless waste of precious resources. Maybe he went with Jesus as far as the
cross, and saw his suffering, and the deluded angry mob of people and the
helpless, frightened disciples. Maybe he
saw things among his own friends, family, and neighbors that disappointed him. There might have been times when he didn’t
really like this renewed connection with his world.
That’s
the thing about seeing: you see some
good things, and you see some not-so-good things. You may want to “turn a blind eye,”
sometimes, but really living in the world with honesty and courage requires us
to see things we’d rather not see.
Following in Jesus’ way leads us to see things we might otherwise not
take any notice of… because Jesus’ way is not a bypass or a detour; it takes us
to places of pain and scenes of injustice, through the neighborhoods of
hopelessness, alongside people who are hurting.
I wish we knew more about
Bartimaeus’ reaction to having his sight.
I can’t imagine that he didn’t look around in wonder and amazement. And I’m sure he must have seen things he
would have rather not witnessed. But all
Mark tells us is that Bartimaeus “followed Jesus on the way.” His
name isn’t mentioned again in Mark or anywhere else in the New Testament. So we don’t know how long or how far he
followed Jesus, whether that path led him to martyrdom or to the work of
building the church or a life of serving God back in his old home town of
And that journey began, for
Bartimaeus, at this critical point when he recognized Jesus’ and Jesus
recognized his faith and he got his sight back.
It’s important to realize
that when the Bible talks about “sight” or “blindness” there is almost always a
metaphorical as well as a real dimension.
“Seeing” is symbolic of spiritual vision, understanding, and – in the
gospels – recognizing who Jesus is.
Bartimaeus has spiritual
vision – insight, understanding – he recognizes who Jesus is even while he is
still physically blind. In some ways the
healing in this story functions simply as a confirmation – of his ability to
“see” the truth… of his faith, as Jesus puts it.
Mark presents Bartimaeus as a
model to imitate. He may be physically
blind at the beginning of the story, but he has insight into Jesus’ character
and power. He already had faith, even
before his eyes were healed. He is clear
and focused about what he needs and wants and hopes for. He truly wants to be healed; he wants a
different kind of life; he is ready to move out of his isolation. And right away, when his sight is restored,
he “follows Jesus on the way.”
We need to understand that
when Mark says he “followed Jesus on the way,” he doesn’t just mean that
Bartimaeus tagged along down the road to the next town. To the early Christians, the “way” meant the
life of faithfully believing and following Jesus. Mark
means us to understand that Bartimaeus became a disciple.
You can’t help but think
that Bartimaeus – not one of Jesus’ original circle of disciples – is being
held up by Mark as a good example in contrast to James and John and the others,
who, though they have been with Jesus for some time, continue to have a hard
time understanding him and getting with the program. You probably remember that we talked about
James and John just a few weeks ago. (That
story, in fact, comes right before this
story about Bartimaeus.) James and John
came to Jesus, and said, “Teacher, we want you to do for us whatever we ask of
you.” Pretty nervy, huh? And do you remember what Jesus said to
them? He said, “What is it you want me
to do for you?” Almost exactly the same question he asks
Bartimaeus! But whereas John and James
want to sit one on each side of Jesus, basking in his glory and sharing his
power, being important… Bartimaeus just
wants to see again.
What a contrast. There’s no doubt which answer Mark approves
of. Bartimaeus is the role model of
discipleship Mark wants his readers to emulate.
He’s not famous or important or gifted in any special way; we never
learn of any spectacular accomplishment on his part; he’s not anything other
than an ordinary person with some needs and some faith. But he is the disciple who understands
who Jesus is and follows on the way.
Bartimaeus’ story is a good
story for Reformation Sunday. The fundamental
idea behind the Reformation movement that began over 500 years ago and led to
the establishment of what we call the Protestant churches is that the call of
discipleship is for every person. Faith
and understanding and giftedness for service to God do not belong only to a
small class of “special” people – saints, clergy, holy men and women – but to
every Christian.
Every Christian is called by
Jesus to service, witness, and good stewardship of God’s gifts. Every believer is called to know and to serve
God out of his or her own faith;
to think and understand and pray and act – not merely in blind obedience to a tradition
or to what someone else tells us God demands, but from what we see and know and
learn of God in our own faith experience.
Every
member of the Christian community counts. Everyone can hear what Jesus
says. Everyone can pray. Everyone can give. Everyone can think. Everyone can respond to God’s love.
That’s a nice, rousing,
crowd-pleasing vision of the Christian faith.
We can agree to it and get behind it pretty well. In theory, at least. The reality is a little harder. Because if I can know God and talk to God,
hear Jesus’ call, listen to his words, study the scriptures, ask my questions,
understand something of God’s intention for the world and my life and the
community of faith… if I, myself can do these things, then I can’t excuse
myself from involvement. I can’t stay
isolated. I can’t be passive. I can’t refuse to see the things that are
wrong in the world. I can’t stay stuck
in my own sins or absorbed only in my own self-interest. I can’t figure that
somebody more holy than me will pray, will give, will invite, will act, will
take charge of discerning what’s right or true.
When sight - in the metaphorical sense, meaning
understanding of spiritual truth – is offered to us, it’s an invitation to
“grow up,” so to speak, into a faith that is mature, aware, responsible and
responsive.
The Reformation tradition
emphasizes that the whole world – everything we see – belongs to God… there is
no aspect of life with which God is not concerned: Home and family, places of worship, courthouses,
banks, farms, cities, mountains and lakeshores, education, art, entertainment, politics
and government, places we work, places we play, places where children suffer,
places of war and famine, places of refuge and places of fear. When
we see it all as God’s, we see it differently.
We see our place in it differently.
We see all the wonders life
spreads before us, and we cannot go through life unaware and without
gratitude. We see the many people on
whom our lives depend, and we cannot pretend we are alone in our neediness or
independent in our strength. We see, and
we can’t pretend we don’t know about the hurts of the people around us. We see them through the eyes of Jesus, and
cannot pretend that we have no responsibility or calling to care. We see who Jesus is and the path he walks,
and we begin to see that this path is our path, too. Like
Bartimaeus, we follow. Not blindly, and
not because the path looks easy and pretty, but like Bartimaeus, because our
eyes have been opened to Jesus’ way of being in the world, and nothing will
ever be the same about the way we live in the world. Amen.