Mark 10:46-52 (NRSV)
46 They 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. 47 When he heard that it was Jesus of Nazareth, he began to shout out and say, “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!” 48 Many sternly ordered him to be quiet, but he cried out even more loudly, “Son of David, have mercy on me!” 49 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.” 50 So throwing off his cloak, he sprang up and came to Jesus. 51 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.” 52 Jesus said to him, “Go; your faith has made you well.” Immediately he regained his sight and followed him on the way.
Mark 10:46-52 is the story of a healing of the blind man of Jericho. Jesus has said he will suffer and die in Jerusalem (10:32-34), and the disciples have shown little to no understanding of what that will mean. However, in this story, we have an event that demonstrates the extraordinary and supernatural power of Jesus that justifies those who choose the path of discipleship.
Discipleship is at the heart of the gospel of Mark, and Mark states this theme most clearly in chapters 8 through 10. Unlike Matthew and Luke, Mark contains no birth narratives, but jumps right into the active adult life of Jesus with his baptism, temptation and the beginning of his Galilean ministry. Early in his first chapter, Mark reports that Jesus is passing along the Sea of Galilee and beginning to call his disciples, saying to them, “Follow me and I will make you fish for people” (1:17). Immediately, they drop their nets and follow him. The chapters that follow are full of descriptions of what it means to walk behind Jesus “on the way” (10:52). Disciples are those who leave their jobs to follow him (2:13-14), who proclaim his message and cast out demons (3:14-15), who do the will of God (3:35), who understand the secret of the kingdom of God (4:11), and who have faith — although this is an ongoing struggle for the disciples (4:40). Followers of Jesus are also those who confess that he is the Messiah (8:29). They deny themselves and take up their cross and follow him (8:34). They understand that “Whoever wants to be first must be last of all and servant of all” (9:35), who receive the kingdom of God as a little child (10:15), and who are willing to leave everything and follow Jesus (10:28).
Mark likely wrote his gospel in Rome, for the benefit of those who were experiencing persecution and standing in need of encouragement in their own discipleship. A suffering community of Christians would clearly benefit from words of Jesus such as, “those who lose their life for my sake, and for the sake of the gospel, will save it” (8:35). The message of Mark is not a spirituality for the comfortable power-people of the day, but is instead “a spirituality for the persecuted, the powerless and the done to.”[1]
This brings us, of course, to the story of a blind beggar named Bartimaeus — a man who was certainly persecuted, powerless and done to. His community needs to hear once again the theme of the gospel — the glory and triumph of Jesus through apparent disaster and defeat.
Jesus is on the last phase of his journey. He is on the way to Jerusalem, but before he sends his disciples to prepare the way for his arrival, he meets one more needy person on the road. This last healing provides the first title of Jesus as the descendant of David, the son of a king. In a subtle way, it shows the difference between King David and this descendent of David. When the original King David entered Jerusalem against the Jebusites as a conquering hero, the inhabitants taunted him saying that “the blind and the lame will turn you back” (II Samuel 5:6). David would take the city and thus have “the blind and the lame” removed before his entry (II Samuel 5:8-9). The Son of David, in contrast to his ancestor, removed blindness instead of the blind as he goes up to the city. This story provides a good example of faith and following the King who is going to Jerusalem not to reign but to become a ransom. It is after a weighty soteriological statement, namely, that Jesus came to give his life as a ransom for many, that the journey brings Jesus, his disciples and the crowd into Jericho.
46 They came to Jericho. Presumably, nothing important happens here, for Mark only narrates that they came in and then that they went out. Form critics saw this odd double mention of Jericho as evidence of the antiquity of the episode.[2] Nevertheless, the focus for Mark is what happens when Jesus is leaving the village. As he, his disciples, and a large crowd were leaving Jericho, Bartimaeus son of Timaeus, a blind beggar, was sitting by the roadside. The introduction is rather startling. In the midst of a mundane note about traveling, there is the unexpected introduction of a character designated as the son of one named Timaeus. Mark also provides his Aramaic name, Bartimaeus, but whereas he usually puts the Aramaic word first followed by the Greek translation (3:17; 7:11, 34), here he has placed the designation of “son” at the beginning of the introduction of this character. He further describes this character as a blind beggar who is sitting near the road, presumably to be near the traffic so that he could receive the maximum amount of alms. 47 When he heard that it was Jesus of Nazareth, making us alert that on this day, what will be important is not the alms he might receive but the information. He hears a stirring on the road and voices crying out, “Jesus the Nazarene is here!” He does not want this opportunity to bypass him. Upon hearing this proclamation, he adds his voice to the din and cries out in order to address Jesus. Although not explicit, the picture Mark paints is that these people have heard about Jesus. They know that this is a momentous occasion. Thus, he began to shout out and say, “Jesus, Son of David. What is truly interesting about this passage is the address the beggar chooses to employ. The beggar addresses him as the Son of David. The son of an unknown Timaeus is addressing the son of the king of Israel. The only other mention of David previous to this address is in the second chapter when Jesus recounts the story of David eating the bread in the house of God (2:25). However, after this incident with Bartimaeus, when Jesus enters Jerusalem upon the colt the crowds proclaim, “Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord! Blessed is the coming kingdom of our ancestor David!” Mark begins to link Jesus with the restoration of David’s kingdom. These references culminate when Jesus asks how the scribes can say that the Messiah is the Son of David if David himself calls him Lord (12:35-37). It becomes clear from this reference that the title, Son of David, had messianic overtones. This title has little use in the New Testament. We find it only in the synoptic gospels, appearing 14 times in them. Archaeological evidence has shown that people were aware of those who stood in the line of David, so this could be a simple acknowledgement of the one from whom Jesus descended. Moreover, this title also had a link to those whom people knew as agents of healing. Thus, by employing this title, the blind man could show his knowledge that Jesus had a reputation for healing, and he wanted to benefit from Jesus’ gifts (Evans, “Mark”, 130, 132). Finally, based upon the reaction of the crowd, which hurries to silence him, this title could carry revolutionary overtones about which the Romans would have become suspicious. Without making a final decision about the historical meaning, Mark seems to employ this address as a narrative prefiguration to show that the blind man could see whom Jesus really was, the Son of David, the Messiah. Bartimaeus then says to Jesus, “Have mercy on me!” 48 Many sternly ordered him to be quiet, but he cried out even more loudly, “Son of David, have mercy on me!” 49 Jesus stood still, enabling the blind Bartimaeus to find him and come to him, and said, “Call him here.” He gets Jesus’ attention. Jesus comes to a standstill and addresses a group of people to command them to call to the beggar. Who is this group? Is it his disciples or the crowd around Bartimaeus who have just told him to be quiet? This might very well be a rebuke against those who had tried to silence him. Instead of squelching his voice, Jesus commands those same people to draw him out of the crowd. The address to Bartimaeus this time is very positive. Therefore, they called the blind man, saying to him, “Take heart; get up, he is calling you.” 50 Then, throwing off his cloak, he sprang up and came to Jesus. Bartimaeus wastes no time. Without being able to see and in the midst of this great crowd, this must have been a treacherous journey. 51 Then Jesus said to him, “What do you want me to do for you?” just before this, Jesus had to explain to the disciples that being with him is not about desiring prime places in the rule of God but about serving. The blind man said to him, “My teacher (Ραββουνι). This time, Bartimaeus addresses him with a less weighty Aramaic term found only here and in John 20:16. He makes his simple request, “Let me see again.” His request is direct. His request makes his desire clear, and Jesus honors his desire, in sharp contrast with the previous episode. He does not ask for alms, because he knows that Jesus can provide what he truly desires — his sight. 52 Jesus said to him, “Go; your faith has made you well.” The first command is strange. Bartimaeus is to “go” or “leave.” Jesus also proclaims, as he did to the woman with the issue of blood (5:34) that the faith of Bartimaeus has saved him. Immediately he regained his sight and followed him on the way. Bartimaeus disobeys Jesus’ first command and, instead of departing, follows him on the road. Bartimaeus is the symbolic ideal.[3] He perseveres in the face of the deterrence of the crowd and the command of Jesus. The blind man sees who Jesus is, responds in faith, and follows Jesus on the way to Jerusalem.
Mark thus closes his section on discipleship with a profoundly positive image — those who truly see Christ feel overwhelmingly called to follow his pathways and purposes. They become imitators of Christ as they seek to become perfected disciples. Bartimaeus’ journey was not easy. He began to follow Jesus just when, from a human point of view, things began to degenerate. Jesus now enters Jerusalem to play his part in the final scene of confrontation, prosecution and execution. There would be little time for a new disciple like Bartimaeus to enjoy approving crowds or balmy days of rest and study. Bartimaeus and all the disciples were rapidly approaching the testing grounds for discipleship trust in Jesus’ being and mission.
Do you know what you want? That was the question Jesus asked of Bartimaeus. The answer was rather obvious to him. It may not be so obvious for us. Most of us will have to ponder upon what is in our hearts in order to have a clear vision of what we truly want.[4] Such a vision will awaken us to the life God wants us to have. If you are not careful, you will go through your life not knowing what you really want, and yet, you will be willing to go through hell to get it.[5]Like a comedian, you may end up saying I always wanted to be somebody, but I should have been more specific.[6]
We receive an insight in this story that I think is important. The man knew he had a problem he wanted Jesus to fix. He was blind and he wanted to see. Such stories are foretokens of the all-comprehensive salvation that God promises through Jesus. They point to the bodily character of salvation. They point to the reality that God loves earthly life. Yet, the man did not stop there. The uniqueness of Bartimaeus is that he followed Jesus along the way. This action means he may have understood the difference between salvation and healing. Healing vanquishes illness and creates health. Yet, it does not vanquish the power of death. Yet, the salvation offered through Jesus in its fullness and completeness is the annihilation of the power of death by raising people to eternal life. When we look upon the recent prediction of his suffering and death, discipleship is a matter of embracing the cross, and that this story occurs in light of the cross Jesus will hang upon outside Jerusalem, then we see that salvation in this wider sense is not through the miracle of healing, but through the wounds of Jesus. God gathers the wounds of Jesus into the indestructible love of God.[7] My point is that Bartimaeus would not have known all this, but he knew his desire was to have a spiritual need met. Therefore, he followed Jesus along the path to the cross. This fact may well separate him from many others who received healings from Jesus. Thus, this is a story of the response of Jesus to Bartimaeus. However, the story is more about the response of Bartimaeus to Jesus.
Alone among those whom Jesus healed in Mark, he is the only one with a name. Mark and his community remember him. Why? Others asked for help. Others jumped up excitedly to receive healing. However, in this case Mark gives us a clue. The most important words in this text are not, "Have mercy on me." These words form the basis of the “Jesus prayer” in the Orthodox tradition. These words are, "What do you want me to do for you," as striking as they are. The most important words are that Bartimaeus “followed him on the way.” Bartimaeus knew he had a problem. However, it was not just his blindness. He had enough spiritual vision to recognize that Jesus could help him. He had enough faith to ask for help. Yet, he also knew what he needed at a deeper level. Receiving physical sight, as important a change that would be in his life, would not meet his deeper need. He needed his spiritual needs met. He knew he needed to follow this Jesus in order for that to happen.
Maybe that is the real miracle here. God does not solve problems for us. God solves problems with us. There was a faith in Bartimaeus that erupted from within. No one, not even the shouts of the crowd, could calm him down. He knew Jesus was the one to help him. In the life of this beggar, God made a way when there seemed to be no way. For Mark, here is an example of discipleship. Others try to quiet him down, and Bartimaeus responds by shouting even louder. The man's faith is so strong it stops Jesus in his tracks. "Go, your faith has made you well." However, unlike others, he did not go. He came with Jesus. He followed him all the way to Jerusalem and the cross. We may well know his name, and the name of his father, because not only did he follow Jesus, he also would become a leader in the early church.
Faith can make one well. However, everyone is in the same boat. If faith can make us well, then doubt is part of the mix. The beliefs that guide our way of life are too big for us to comprehend fully. Thus, we live with uncertainty. Such beliefs are so massive that, in the world real human beings live, we cannot prove they are right. We can testify to an experience: I trust this path is right, it seems to work, and it is wonderful. The good Christian apologist understands that while one can offer excellent reasons for Christian beliefs, one cannot prove their validity. Entrusting oneself to a path or to a belief is always a matter of faith. Yet, such faith is not saying that I am going to take a leap in the dark. It is not irrational or nonrational. One comes to a point where one says to oneself, “This is so good that I feel in my heart that this is right.” Faith is informed by our reasoning and experience. Faith is not leaping into the darkness, but into the hands of God who loves me and knows me.[8]
Yet, we need to go a step further. Religion is not the truth. Even the teachings of Jesus are not the truth. No creed, doctrinal statements, or theological system is the truth. When we think of truth, we want to know that if God is, what God is like, who human beings are, what way of life will lead to any meaning and fullness we can experience in this life, and some way of understanding and facing suffering and death. Such truths are beyond the ability of words to contain. Such truth will not stay still long enough. It is always moving and shifting like air. It will beckon us in different ways and come at us from different directions. Such truths often come to us apart from the language of logic and science. They often come in stories.[9]
Faith and truth in Christianity focus on Jesus of Nazareth, Son of David, Teacher, and more: the Word, the Son, “the way, the truth, and the life” (John 14:16). It seems arrogant of John and with him the church through the centuries to make such a claim. I would suggest, however, that if you dethrone Jesus, you enthrone something or someone else. No, if we take the beliefs of groups seriously, they are not all the same. The church has often been a weak witness to its faith and its truth. The truth, the life, through which we know and find the way, is Jesus himself: the Jesus who washed the disciples’ feet and told them to copy his example, the Jesus who was on his way to give his life as the shepherd for the sheep.[10] If Christ is the norm of the gospel, then he is also the norm of the New Testament, and of the entire Christian Bible.[11]
The shift one makes in life to have faith in someone or something is one we can think of as a new way of seeing. Let us think of it as having three sets of eyes, each building upon the other. The first is eye of physical sight, the second is the eye of reason as we reflect upon experience and reason with each other, and the third is the eye of intuition as we contemplate enough to see life and thought in a different way. We have an experience of illumination. This third eye is a matter of becoming calmly present to self and world, in which we see connections beyond our typical black/while, either/or, dualistic, separating, alienating, thinking. The loss of this form of seeing leads to much shortsightedness and crises. Everything divides into dualistic oppositions like liberal vs. conservative, with vested interests pulling against one another. Truth is no longer possible at this level of conversation. Theology becomes more a quest for power than a search for God and Mystery. One surrenders to the desire to control and engage in public posturing. It is hardly an exaggeration to say that “us-and-them” seeing, and the dualistic thinking that results, is the foundation of almost all discontent and violence in the world. In contrast, the third eye is form of seeing that is the path of wisdom.[12]
Hans Lang tells of an old Russian that he came to know. When they first became acquainted, he was already 80 years old. Authorities had banished him to Siberia for 27 years. His wife and five of his children died there. What did he look for in life now? "I have had many blessings. I have experienced the heights and depths of life. I have nothing else now. Only this." Then he put his hand into his pocket and, wrapped in a handkerchief, pulled out a cross. "This is all that is left to me now. It is nothing. But on the other hand, it is everything."
[1] (Stephen C. Barton, The Spirituality of the Gospels [Peabody, Mass.: Hendrickson Publishers, Inc., 1992], 63).
[2] (Craig A. Evans, “Mark 8:27-16:20,” Word Biblical Commentary 34b [Nashville: Thomas Nelson Publishers, 2001], 129).
[3] Mary Ann Tolbert (Sowing the Gospel: Mark’s World in Literary-Historical Perspective [Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1996], 191).
[4] Carl Jung: Your vision will become clear only when you look into your heart. Who looks outside, dreams. Who looks inside, awakens.
[5] Don Marquis
[6] Lily Tomlin
[7] - Jurgen Moltmann, The Way of Jesus Christ: Christology in Messianic Dimensions, Margaret Kohl, trans., Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1993, pp. 107-108.
[8] —Alister McGrath, interviewed by Ruth Jackson, “Alister McGrath, a world expert on C.S. Lewis shares his thoughts,” Patheos.com, December 26, 2020.
[9] —Frederick Buechner, Secrets in the Dark: A Life in Sermons (HarperCollins, 2007), 132.
[10] —N.T. Wright, John for Everyone, Part 2: Chapters 11-21 (SPCK, 2004), 59-60.
[11] —John Dominic Crossan, The Greatest Prayer: A Revolutionary Manifesto and Hymn of Hope (HarperOne, 2011).
[12] —Richard Rohr, adapted from The Naked Now: Learning to See as the Mystics See (Crossroad, 2009), 28-29.
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