A sermon preached by The Reverend Canon Dr. David Anderson at St. Jude’s Anglican Church, Oakville, on the Feast of St. Simon and St. Jude (Patronal Festival), Sunday, October 27, 2024.
I speak to you in the name of God: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Amen.
We almost missed Bartimaeus. I am sure that during his life as a beggar, many people passed him by. The reason we almost missed him is that while this reading is called for on this Sunday in October, it is not the appointed as the reading for the Feast of St. Simon and St. Jude, our patronal festival, which we are celebrating this morning. In keeping with our patron’s claim to fame—not only as the patron of the churches that bear his name, but as the patron saint of lost causes—I thought we would give Bartimaeus’ story a hearing. We shouldn’t feel bad for Bartimaeus, though; he makes it clear that he knows how to deal with people who try to silence him.
The fact is that I would also like to keep with Mark this week because the lectionary we follow will not give us too many more Sundays reading from Mark before we move on to Luke with the new liturgical year that will begin with Advent.
This year we have been reading Mark. I don’t know if you have had a chance to reflect on how Mark’s Gospel has made you feel as we have been reading him these past months Sunday by Sunday. I feel that Mark is much of the time throwing the gauntlet down, almost daring us to come to some decision about who we believe Jesus to be. It seems that Jesus gets off to a good start, but it also seems that very quickly, as Mark tells the story, most of the people are writing him off as either insane or demonic. Later, Jesus seems somewhat defeated by the unbelief he encounters, so much so that even his miraculous powers seem to fail him. It is really only at the end of this Gospel we hear the proclamation of the Roman centurion make the startling and clear claim about Jesus’ identity, when he says, “Truly, this man was the Son of God!” (15:39); but are we really going to take the word of a centurion?
But all the while, in the background, Mark keeps the theme alive that tells us something about the nature of faith in Jesus Christ. The story about Bartimaeus adds to this theme.
One of the things that stands out about Bartimaeus is that he calls Jesus by name, using that impressive title, ‘Son of David.’ Bartimaeus has never met Jesus, as far as we know, yet he has an unusual insight into Jesus’ identity. Bartimaeus does not only call out that name, but he creates quite a ruckus in the crowd. He shouts out, “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me” (10:47b). The onlookers try to silence him, but he shouts out all the more, “Son of David, have mercy on me” (v. 48).
Bartimaeus is undeterred by those who would silence him; he demands mercy. Now, in Mark, we encounter all sorts of people who want all sorts of things from Jesus. The rich young man wanted eternal life. The brothers James and John wanted glory. But this person, who has been parked to beg by the roadside only wanted mercy. He didn’t even bother to specify the sort of mercy he was looking for until Jesus asked him specifically what he wanted.
The crowd changes their tune when Jesus asked for Bartimaeus. “Call him here,” Jesus says standing still suddenly (v. 49a). The crowd calls the blind man now, “Take heart,” they say, “get up, he is calling you” (v. 49b). In his eagerness to respond, Bartimaeus tosses off his cloak, likely one of his only possessions. He may be blind, but he is certainly not lame; Mark tells us that in response Bartimaeus “sprang up” when he heard that Jesus had called him (v. 50b).
Jesus has mercifully received Bartimaeus, now he mercifully asks, “What do you want me to do for you?” (v. 51). “My teacher,” he responds, “let me see again” (v. 52). On receiving his sight Bartimaeus learns from Jesus that it is his faith that has made him well. Jesus has only ever said this to one other person, the woman with the bleeding condition, and she too was insistent upon her contact with Jesus as he made his way through a crowd. She too demanded her opportunity to connect with Jesus despite the crowd and the social taboos involved. When Bartimaeus received his sight, Jesus told him to go on his way. This, Bartimaeus did not do but instead he “followed [Jesus] on the way,” meaning he became a follower of Jesus.
Bartimaeus’ story shows us what faith is. Bartimaeus’ faith is not about saying all the correct words or subscribing to church doctrine. That said, Bartimaeus’ words do show great insight into Jesus’ identity—more than Mark ever credits Jesus own disciples. For Bartimaeus, faith is his unrelenting conviction that Jesus can rescue him from his need. We see this faith in what Bartimaeus does. First, he does grasp who Jesus is. Bartimaeus describes Jesus as the ‘Son of David.’ It is impossible for us to say too much about what Bartimaeus meant by this without too much conjecture, but clearly Bartimaeus say two things. He obviously saw Jesus as God’s designated agent in the same way that King David had been in his time. We also can see that Bartimaeus understood Jesus to be able to show mercy and to heal.
The second thing Bartimaeus does is he persists despite hindrances. Faith never comes easy to people in Mark’s Gospel. Faith must always overcome obstacles to attain what it seeks in Mark. This detail reminds us that beggars are pretty much at the bottom rung of social privilege in ancient (and contemporary) society. Do people shout Bartimaeus down because they believe the deserves to be where his is at the bottom rung? Probably. The bystanders are ignorant of Jesus, the focus of his message, and his compassion and grace. Bartimaeus knows differently and so he shouts “even more loudly” until his plea comes to Jesus’ ears (v. 48).
The third thing Bartimaeus does is he expects transformation. He believes and knows that things will change. He tosses away his cloak when Jesus calls him because he knows that he will no longer need to sit on that garment on the street, dependant upon handouts from passersby.
Fourth, and finally, he asks for the right thing. Jesus asked him, “What do you want me to do for you?” Notably, this is the same question Jesus asked of the brothers James and John who asked for seats of glory in Jesus’ kingdom. They asked for something Jesus could not give. Bartimaeus asked only to see again. He knew that Jesus could bring the healing and wholeness and deliverance that people seek.
Still, we must be careful about what we take from this story. Healing stories, especially those that call our attention to the faith of a person seeking healing can present us with difficulties. There are dangers in drawing simplistic connections between faith, health, and disability. Likewise, we must reject suggestions that illness or disability results somehow from sin. In another famous Gospel story about the healing of a man born blind, Jesus outrightly rejects the misguided assumption of the link between sin and disability. The disciples asked Jesus about the man born blind, “Who sinned, this man or his parents?” Their false assumption was that, somehow, sin was the root cause. Jesus admits no room to blame the poor for their poverty, the ill for their illness, or the disabled for their challenges. We notice too that Bartimaeus is disabled, but Jesus does not assume that what he desires is the restoration of his sight. He asks, “What do you want me to do for you?” Jesus makes no assumptions based on what he sees. Too often we assume that we know better what the disabled need and don’t ask them. We push people in wheelchairs where they do not want to go, and we abandon them there. Jesus asks, “what do you want?”
One of the people I met this summer was a woman named Amy Kenny. She is one of the most joyful people I have ever had the privilege to know. Amy spends much of her daily life in a wheelchair. She identifies herself as disabled. But Amy takes joy in her wheels. She relishes in a biblical passage in the Book of Ezekiel which describes God’s throne in heaven as having wheels of fire. God sits in a wheelchair. Amy thinks that is pretty cool and so do I. Amy is a published author on the topic of Disability Theology, and I love the title of her book. It’s a lesson in itself. The title is, My Body is Not a Prayer Request. We make assumptions that we shouldn’t make. Jesus asks questions and listens.
We cannot promise people cures. What we can promise is that when we join Jesus on the way to the cross life is transformed. What we can do is to seek to embody through our practices, and community life, and advocacy, the wholeness that God wants for humanity and to which Jesus restores Bartimaeus.
One way we might apply this story to our life together in this community is to consider the various characters in the story alongside the various situations in and around our congregational and communal life. We might think of Bartimaeus and his needs, but also of his prophetic insight into Jesus’ identity and what the mercy of God might look like. What do those among us with various disabilities—visible and invisible—teach us about our own needs, vulnerabilities, and gifts? What do they teach us about God? How well do we embrace the gifts of those whom we might consider different from what we have labelled ‘normal’? What do we learn from the crowd that seeks to keep Bartimaeus both blind and invisible? What do we learn from the others in the crowd who encourage the disabled man’s abilities with hopeful words, “Take courage, get up, he’s calling you!” What would it look like for us to encourage each other in the diversity of our gifts in this way. What do we learn from Jesus and his compassion and grace as he encounters people from all walks of life, meeting them where they are and inviting them to join him in his journey towards the cross?
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