Mark 10:46-52
The little story of blind Bartimaeus comes at something of a turning point in Mark’s Gospel as Jesus heads for Jerusalem and Holy Week; at its most prosaic, the way or path which we are told that Bartimaeus follows with Jesus and his companions is that road up to Jerusalem- the same road the Good Samaritan took only in reverse. It takes you to the Holy City where the final week of Jesus mortal life will be played out. In a sense all of Mark’s Gospel is a long prelude to this week and its momentous last three days, but the two chapters which end with the seemingly simple story of Jesus restoring Bartimaeus’ sight, and which start with Peter’s recognition of Jesus at Caesarea Philippi, and the Transfiguration, are especially dark and troublesome, moving rapidly from one difficult idea and event to another as we have heard in the Gospel readings in the last month or so.
Despite Peter’s recognition and secret and select demonstration of Jesus’ real nature, the disciples continue to fail to understand who he is and what he is about; they argue about why they couldn’t heal the epileptic boy while Jesus is transfigured up the mountain; they argue about who should take precedence in the Kingdom; they get cross with children coming to see Jesus. And Jesus makes increasingly difficult- apparently impossible- demands about camels going through eyes of needles and giving up all possessions and family ties and instead carrying cross to execution. Through all of this dark and turbulent debate, however, there runs an underlying and contrasting theme; the demands may be hard and incredible to man, but with the help of God they can be achieved. In particular, Jesus points out that children, with their innocence are more able to receive the message of God’s grace.
In contrast to these stories, blind Bartimaeus is not querulous or disbelieving- he is simply obstreperous (and characteristically told to shut up by those around Jesus) but his belief, his straightforward confidence, will not be suppressed. In his encounter with Jesus there is no clever dialectic, but bounding enthusiasm and direct talk: “What do you want me to do?” says Jesus; “Let me receive back my sight” replies Bartimaeus- nothing complicated there and even the ever present spiritual dimension to healing is underplayed. He is simply told that his faith has healed him and he should go on his way; he chooses to follow Jesus on his way- just the road up to Jerusalem, or the way of discipleship too? We are not told.
The obvious implication of the story as it contrasts with the earlier material is that direct and childlike faith is all that is needed for salvation, and that more adult ambition and materialism get in the way-indeed may make it impossible for us to receive grace. There is certainly something of the irrepressible child in Bartimaeus; he is noisy and impetuous he heads off for Jerusalem, without more than the cloak on his back, leaving a trail of clothes behind him.
Is Mark telling us that is how we should respond to Jesus? If so it’s really not much easier than the message which seems to emerge from the turbulence of the preceding chapters. Is it easier to accept the Gospel with this childish simplicity than to agonise over material possession, family ties, or even status – all of which can be turned to good purpose in living full lives ourselves and improving the lives of those around us. Innocence is not always better than experience; nor enthusiasm or simplicity always better than reflection and recognition that much of life is complex.
And yet one feels one is apologising for a broken world in suggesting we can’t all be like Bartimaeus. After all, God comes into a material world and lives and dies a mortal existence, involving himself with all the messy complications of physical life. He sometimes seems to eschew excess and luxury, and seemingly espouses a simple mendicant life- or more accurately encourages others to. But he also has a reputation is for dining out with those the source of whose wealth was doubtful or whose morals were pretty shady. However, in all his mixing with human desires and fallibility, Jesus always adds a spiritual twist; when he feeds a hungry crowd it is not simply bread they receive; healing is always more or less overtly overlaid by forgiveness and salvation; Jesus’ response to the accusation that he consorts with tax collectors and sinners is that they are the ones who need healing. As a man Jesus is mixed up with humanity, but as God he transcends and transforms it. We need to remember that in the classical world and in the Bile, there is little sentimentality about beggars or children; that is a later, Christian, notion.
It is perhaps with this in mind that we should read those dark and troubling chapters leading up to the point when Jesus heads unequivocally and finally for Jerusalem. They start you remember with Jesus revealing his divine nature, to Peter at Caesarea Phillip and then in the transfiguration to Peter James and John. The controversies that follow are illustrations of how hard it to accept this divinity; throughout Jesus emphasises that what may be hard for men can be achieved by God, if only we will like children, or like Bartimaeus receive him. Beggars like children have no possessions or status, none of the baggage of humanity the rest of carry around which prevents us accepting the grace we are offered.
But while Jesus teaches us to respect the young and the indigent, he does not reject entirely the material aspects of the humanity which he shares with us, nor I suggest need we. What the story of Bartimaeus in its context, teaches us is that there is meaning to life beyond possessions, emotional ties and status and finding that meaning, or allowing God to reveal that meaning, may mean putting material assets and even ones friends and family in their place, but not abandoning them altogether.
That was all I intended but as this is Stewardship month; there is another point which ought to be drawn from these themes. It’s dangerously easy to think that God’s business should be unworldly; that the church shouldn’t concern itself with filthy lucre. And there are of course some disastrous examples of what happens when the church, or anyone, does pursue wealth or power for its own sake. It’s easy for us to use that as a, perhaps unconscious, excuse for ignoring emails from the Vicar and Church Wardens. After all, we say to ourselves, Bartimaeus was a beggar and he found salvation. Children have no money but are closer to God.
This is a mistake; building the Kingdom and spreading the Gospel take place here and now in this world and like all human enterprises they costs money; they need grace and inspiration too, but those are not substitutes for cash. This church, St John’s, is in many and various ways engaged in that building project, and if you feel part of you should be supporting it with your money, your time and your talents. And if you do not feel part of that missionary enterprise, well, you should, but at very least you should reflect on what it costs to simply to put on this service alone. The response to the Stewardship Appeal has so far been pretty feeble; Bartimaeus had nothing to give, perhaps he even left his cloak behind; we are not asked to follow Jesus like that, but please consider what you can give in money and time, and preferably regularly, as together we try to follow Jesus on the way. Amen