St. John’s Lutheran Church, Toluca, IL – 22nd Sunday after Pentecost
Jeremiah 31:7-9; Psalm 126; Hebrews 7:23-28
Mark 10:46-52
46As [Jesus] and his disciples and a large crowd were leaving Jericho, Bartimaeus son of Timaeus, a blind beggar, was sitting by the roadside. 47When he heard that it was Jesus of Nazareth, he began to shout out and say, “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!” 48Many sternly ordered him to be quiet, but he cried out even more loudly, “Son of David, have mercy on me!” 49Jesus stood still and said, “Call him here.” And they called the blind man, saying to him, “Take heart; get up, he is calling you.” 50So throwing off his cloak, he sprang up and came to Jesus. 51Then 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.” 52Jesus said to him, “Go; your faith has made you well.” Immediately he regained his sight and followed him on the way.
Dreams Transformed
Despite being based on biblical facts, the story that follows exists only in the imagination of this preacher.
Bartimaeus woke up suddenly, gasping for air. It was the kind of nightmare he used to have when he lost his sight. Menacing, disembodied voices first shouting accusations to his father, then yelling insults at him. Hands would grab him while he heard the cry of his father pleading for mercy, the scrolls being taken away from him, the smell of the burning pit, and finally, his father’s final screams.
The terrors are different now that the light of the world had come to him, to them, and then left. The disembodied voices have given place to sobbing faces, armors, swords, whips, hammers, huge iron nails, thorns bent in circular shapes resembling a crown of sorts. The smell of the burning pit was also long gone from his nightmares. Instead, Bartimaeus had vivid images of long logs of wood bound together by nails and hopes forming cruciform structures covered in blood. These were the same structures used to kill hundreds, if not thousands, of those perceived as threats to the Roman status quo. Stones would also populate his worse dreams. They were the preferred method of execution used by the council of elders for those insisting on proclaiming Jesus as the Messiah, the Son of the living God. This was how they killed his friend James, one of the sons of Zebedee.
Before sight was gifted to him, Bartimaeus was hunted by the things he was aware of only by touch, smell, or sound. Terror came on top of the darkness he already lived in. He had blurs of images as memories of his early years. He was told his birth was a long-expected moment of joy for his parents. His father, Timaeus, came from a long line of scribes in Jericho and was admired and respected as a faithful child of God. So much was his joy on the birth of his son that he named him the son of Timaeus. He used to go around joking that he constantly prayed for God to speed up the growth of his Son. He couldn’t wait that long to begin teaching the young Bartimaeus how to read and become a steward of the old scriptures. The duty his ancestors had taken wholeheartedly over many generations.
They said his mother fell sick one day and that the same disease brought blindness to the young Bartimaeus. Already devastated by the quick death of his wife, Timaeus succumbed to deep grief of having his heritage in the tradition of his people ending with him. His son would never read, and if necessary, preserve the Word of God for generations to come. Not long after, the men arrived, declared Timaeus cursed, and demanded the confession of his sins. Timaeus pleaded with them. To no avail, he evoked his reputation and the tradition he represented. They took away the scrolls he was working on and banned him and young Bartimaeus, condemning them to a life of shame begging in the streets. Timaeus, they said, went mad for a while. He could be heard in the streets yelling and cursing blasphemies at God.
One day, his father entered the makeshift hut they dwelled in and began to speak in a tone of voice that Bartimaeus later learned to mean excitement. Someway, somehow, Timaeus had scrolls containing the old scriptures with him. The scrolls have been damaged by wear and tear, but Timaeus was confident that he could repair them. He told his young son, the Lord has shown mercy to us. You can not read my son, but you can hear. And I will read them for you, and you will learn them and remember them. Year after year, father and son recited together the Word of God, praying, singing the psalms of King David, and nurturing the hope that salvation would come to them one day.
As Timaeus reached his late years, bitterness once more overcame him. Again he began to yell against God, stumping and spitting on the scrolls. This was the day they came, called Timaeus a blasphemer, accused him of stealing the scrolls, and took him away. This was the day that the smell of the ever-burning pit in the outskirts of town, used to dispose of everything rejected, became stronger than Bartimaeus could remember.
Now that he could see, the forces he swore to reject and stand against after his baptism had faces. Bartimaeus could see who they were and what those possessed by such forces could do. The injustice, the oppression, the pain, the death. It was not to be so among them, among the many, among God’s faithful people, Jesus had said.
When Bartimaeus began to hear the stories told by those bypassing on the road, or the heated discussions in the marketplace about the deeds of the rabbi from Nazareth, he wondered if Jesus was the one promised in the scriptures. He had them memorized after the efforts of his father. Bartimaeus was skeptical at first. He knew the warnings of Jeremiah about the false prophets. He heard many of those through the years. One even tried to evoke the powers of the heavens to heal his eyes after Bartimaeus begged him to show him mercy in God’s name. The man was scourged out of town, never to be heard of again.
Nonetheless, there was something different about the Nazarene. The rumors about Bethlehem being his place of birth, and the violent reaction it caused in the former Herod the Great, was both telling and intriguing. Then again, famous healers were a dime a dozen. Furthermore, Bartimaeus was not the only person in Judea who was taught the old scriptures. Part of the legend about Jesus was that he has read the ancient scrolls in the synagogues, suggesting that he was introduced to the scriptures. Therefore, he would know which rumors to spread about himself that could corroborate any claim that he was the promised Messiah from the household of King David.
On the other hand, false prophets and false Messiahs are supposed to be out there for the benefit of themselves. They wanted to be known. They want people to talk about them. Bartimaeus had heard at least a couple of people say that Jesus insisted for his disciples not to tell anyone about who he was. More, he was telling them that he was to be arrested, falsely accused, beaten, and killed. That strung a cord with Bartimaeus. He knew injustice, rejection, and death. However, that was strange. The Messiah was to be victorious and successfully liberate Israel and restore Ephraim through brooks of water. Not be killed. But then again, there were the prophecies of Isaiah, the suffering of God’s servant. Those promises had prevented him from giving up many times and helped him cope with his own shame. Bartimaeus had decided that the jury was still out for Nazarene. He had prayed to God for Jesus to cross paths with him so he could ask for mercy. If he was the one, he would make him see, for it was written, “along with them the lame, and the blind.”
It was time to rise. Bartimaeus knew it to be pointless trying to sleep when these dreams came to him. Soon the sun would be up, and they were to be on the way again. They need to reach the next village by midday. The collection that they were organizing for the poor in Jerusalem was a big deal, so much so that Paul was somewhere abroad speaking of it in the churches on the other side of the sea. There was no way Bartimaeus would stay out of it. The cause was too important to him. Peter knew it. But he also knew that nothing would hold Bartimaeus from hitting the road despite the dangers. Likely, all of them had premiums on their heads at this point. All Peter could do was to send a couple of companions with him.
John was the first to join him at sunrise.
What you doing up so early? John asked.
You know, I have not watched many sunrises before. I am catching up. Bartimaeus lied while crossing himself.
John smiled for the first time in a long time.
I miss him, you know? Bartimaeus said, referring to James, John’s brother.
Me too, John replied. That day, on the shore, in Capernaum, I wasn’t so sure. James was the one who pulled me out of the boat. He said we could follow him for a couple of days and see where it would go. He never doubted, ever.
Talking about doubting, good morning Thomas!
Good morning Bartimaeus, Thomas replied. You are never going to let that go, are you? If I remember correctly, my friend, you were the one who started believing only after you began to see.
Not true! I had my suspicions before. Why do you think I called him Son of David and asked him to have mercy on me?
Are you saying that you were testing the Son of God? Interjected John with a laugh.
It was definitely good to see some joy back to him.
Let’s go. There is a lot of road ahead of us, declared Thomas.
John extended a hand to Bartimaeus to help him up.
It seems it is my destiny to help you get out of your buttocks, old man. Said John referring to the time he and Bartimaeus first met.
I’m glad you found me, brother.
Did you know that he asked you the same question he did to James and me just a day before?
What are you talking about?
Before we met you on the road near Jericho, the Master asked what he could do for us. He asked you the same question on that day.
What did you both ask the Messiah for?
Places of honor in his kingdom, one at his right, one at his left!
Fools!
I am glad you followed us, said John, embracing and kissing his friend.
I said, let’s go! A seemly annoyed Thomas urged. There are places to go and people to meet.
Yeah – replied John – happy are those who did not see and yet will come to believe!
Thomas rolled his eyes, and with that, they continued on the way.
Thanks be to God. Amen.
Bridging Faith 