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!” 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.
Healing, nothing more than Healing….
I’m taking my liberties with the song, which really sings, feelings, nothing more than feelings, and making it my own and trying to get a karaoke fix.
At first glance that what this story is, this little view into Jesus healing ministry: It looks like Jesus was walking along with his disciples, somebody in need gets his attention, Jesus attends to them and heals them. End of story. Right? No. Not if we take a deeper look and slow down long enough to pay attention to what is going on around the edges of this story.
Let’s start with Jericho. Jericho is a famous city in the Bible because the Israelites were up against and it looked like they were in a fix, once again, and they were looking at their own doom and destruction. It didn’t turn out that way. Joshua, who took over for Moses, called upon the lord to tear down the heavily fortified walls of Jericho and, as the song goes the “walls came a tumbling down”.
So Jesus and his disciples, according to Mark enter Jericho and the next thing that happens, they turn around and come out. But, something happens inside Jericho because Jesus went in only with the disciples but came out with his disciples and, and this is where paying attention helps, came out with his disciples and a crowd. We don’t know why, Mark doesn’t tell us, but more came out than went in. This is not what happens in a slot machine in Las Vegas. More goes in than what comes out. And as my father likes to say, they don’t build those hotel/casinos, which he refers to as joints, because people are winning money.
So Jesus comes out of Jericho with more than he went in which tells me that folks listened to him, maybe even to his disciples, and decided to follow. We don’t know why, for how long, or anything about them, but we know they got out of the city with him. Their first encounter once leaving the city was the shouts of Blind Bartimaeus, the Beggar. presumably he had heard about the fame of Jesus, was blind, but not deaf and couldn’t miss the fact that there was something going on.
I love how he handles this. He yells out for Jesus to have mercy on him. And the crowd, these new followers of Jesus were very quick and immediately tried to snub his enthusiasm and ordered him to be quiet. I’ve wondered about the crowd’s response for sometime and have always found it peculiar. How come they didnt t grab him, get him on his feet, and get him to Jesus? They do just the opposite and it’s not unlike some of the disciple’s response to children. They wanted to keep these folks with out status, no resources, no pull, away from him. That’s always puzzled me. But as I think about it, it occurs to me that this new Jericho crowd was probably responding to Jesus and his movement out of their own enthusiasm. They probably looked upon him as a powerful leader who was going to get things done and who couldn’t be bothered by children or women or the lame or the blind or whoever else didnt hold much worth in their society.
But much to Blind Bartimaeus the Beggar, who had never seen Jesus, but was astute enough to pay attention to what was going on around him, Bartimaeus completely disregards their prohibition and shouts out, even more loudly, “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me”. And Jesus, the one who epitomizes paying attention to the moment, stops, stands still and he says to the crowd, bring him here. I am amazed at two things here: first, Jesus ability to stay present in the moment and not caught up in the hub bub of the crowd; and two, the way in which he exercises his power. He just says to the crowd, bring him here. No diatribe on why we need to help the least of them, nothing about blind people having it really rough. He simply uses the power, his personal power, and he asks the crowd to do something that they otherwise would not have done, and they do.
“They” bring Bartimaeus to Jesus. Jesus asks him what he can do for the guy, they guy says I want to see. And Jesus says your faith has made you well. No spittle and mud this time. No forgiveness of sins. Nobody asking who sinned his parents or his parents’ parents. He just says your faith has made you well. And the guy sees again. Immediately he sees again and begins to follow Jesus.
I would submit to you that the guy was made well even before he regained his sight. I would submit to you that this man’s persistent hope, this ability to shout over a loud crowd, to stand up, throw off his beggar’s cloak and his beggar’s identity made him, with God’s help, well. The sight part is just gravy. Folks around him said, shut up and stay in your place. You are a such and such. You are disabled, an addict, an SOB, an ignoramus, a queer, a black, a woman, a white male, a doubter, a liberal, a conservative. You are a such and such and you don’t get to be a part of this because you don’t count. Bartimaeus healing was that he knew that we was more and he did count. He paid enough attention to Jesus to know that he was valued inherently. That he counted. That Jesus would listen, would pay attention, would attend to him.
There are incredible implications in this story for us this morning. Implications for us as individuals and implications for us as a community-as this particular community. This year, as part of our stewardship season, I and other parish leadership are going to ask you all to pay attention to the life of St. John’s. I and others, and there will be more about this, are going to ask you to pay attention. Pay attention to what is working and what is not working.
I think we have some things in common with Bartimaeus, or at least with the crowd around him. There is a tendency in a small church to think small, to expect less, to be less. We are small in number, we know that and others know that. However, there is a danger that we let ourselves be defined by someone elses’ perception of us. The crowd told Bartimaeus to shut up and to stay in his beggar stance, to accept his lot in life and not expect anything more. What they said to him makes sense from one perspective: look, your blind, you beg, you always have you always real. Why get your expectations up. This is who you are.
We have done some preliminary work on stewardship and it sometimes comes up that we are a small church, that we don’t have the resources to do much more, that we should keep that in mind as we approach this whole issue of giving and mission and what it is we are to do. We have been small for a long time. We’re small now. We’ll be small in the future. I’m guilty of it myself. When I tell people what I do, I say to them well, I am the vicar of two small churches and I do border work.
Just using that adjective “small” is problematic. It also doesn’t do justice to what and who we are. I think that St. John’s is a dynamic, interesting, engaging, and outgoing community. It is well-known in the community. It has a good reputation and is known for its hospitality to organizations such as 12-step groups and others. It hosts the alternative clinic. It’s involved in border activism. It’s made of people from all over the area who are diverse in terms of thought, education, and experience. To say that St. John’s is a small church is a little like saying that the Piatta, do I have that right is a small sculpture. I’ve never seen it but I understand it’s breathtaking and remarkable. It happens to be small but that’s not really important about it. We happen to have a certain average attendance, but that doesn’t define us. What defines us is that we are not a small church, but the church of Jesus Christ. Rumor has it that he himself was not all that well thought of in terms of pedigree and background. Rumor also has it that he did remarkable things and changed lives and changed history.
I need and will try and do a couple of things differently. I am going to try and stop defining both the congregations as small. I’m not saying that’s a bad word in and of itself, but I am simply going to say I am the vicar of two churches in Southeastern Arizona. If people want more information, I’ll give them that. If they want budget and avg attendance Ill tell them that.
But this is what I will tell you. The story of Bartimaeus reminds us that God did not use the “brightest and best” to get God’s own word out. He used the most unlikely characters to bring the Gospel to others. He used simple folks, folks that abandoned jobs and family in order to follow, folks that argued amongst themselves about who was the most important, folks that when it all went down and Jesus got in trouble, most of them went running for the hills. God used Blind Bartimaeus the Beggar to get his word out. Someone who was insignificant and of no account. God used Bartimaeus to show forth his power. And part of why God chose Bartimaeus, as I read this story, is that Bartimaeus would not allow others define him. He had a hope that, even despite his unfortunate circumstances, God would take note and change his life. And that is exactly what happened. And 2000 some odd years later we are talking not about the Roman Consul in Jericho or the finest poet they had or the brilliant theologian/philosopher/athlete/entrepeneur/politician that was in town. We are talking about a guy who didn’t even live in the town but was relegated to the outskirts, the insignificant, the boonies.
We who live in the boonies need to take note. God works miracles in the desert where miracles seem few and far between. This community of ours is a miracle. I have the priviledge of knowing most of you and your story and the first word that comes to mind when I think about you is not small or under resourced or lacking or less than. The words that come to mind are dynamic, diverse, intelligent, engaged, committed, maybe a little bizarre, generous. I could go on.
Bartimaeus, even after he was told to shut up, threw off his beggar’s cloak and sprang up and said, because he trusted he’d be heard, “Jesus, listen to me. Jesus have mercy on me and give me a hand.” He had energy, he had a spring in his step and he received many a blessing, not just his sight, but the priviledge to follow, to join the adventure, to tell his story and to tell others the Good News of how God paid attention to him.
Let’s pay attention to what’s happening here. Let’s take a look around and take note of the energy, the hospitality, the inclusivity, the mutual care, the community in need around us, the new faces and friends. Let’s not be defined by what others see or even what we see on the bad days. Let’s be defined by hope. Let’s be defined as those who recognize that God is in our midst, who recognize that God pays attention, who recognize that God offers healing and new vision, who recognize, who know that God’s way is the way of wellness, the way of sight. Amen