In spite of the fact that it is Reformation Sunday, and we are celebrating Calvin’s 500th birthday this morning, I will not be preaching an “historical” sermon today. I am not sure Calvin would approve of all the hoopla, let alone the cake – but I am certain he would be glad to join us in a careful reading of the gospel today. Calvin saw the scripture as a corrective lens that we might see God. And so it is appropriate that we turn today to a story about seeing God.
Where we begin in today’s gospel is interesting – let’s get ourselves located geographically – we are outside the walls of Jericho. You remember Jericho from the book of Joshua, or perhaps from the song about the Walls a Tumblin’ Down. A little refresher – Moses has passed leadership on to Joshua, and the desert wanderers after 40 years are finally ready to cross over and come into the land of promise. Jericho is the location of the first test of the chosen people, coming into the land of promise. They are about to see the promise of God’s salvation come to full light. The noisy shouting parade of God’s faithful people brought the walls a-tumblin’ down.
Back to today’s gospel story – there certainly is a parade of sorts here, and shouting and plenty of walls to tumble down – but these are more metaphorical barriers than stone to be toppled from stone. Mark seems to ask again and again throughout his gospel, “Is there still faith enough among God’s people to bring down the walls?” Finally, in this story, it seems there might be faith enough to bring down the walls of ignorance of who this Jesus is, at least in one of God’s people. And so we meet Bartimaeus, son of Timaeus, a blind beggar. He calls out to Jesus – naming his ancestry. “Jesus, son of David.” In this title, he recognizes Jesus’ royal ancestry, descendant of Israel’s great king.
This is the only place in Mark’s gospel that Jesus is identified this way. There is rich irony that this no one, son of no one, a blind man, is the only one who finally recognizes Jesus as Son of David, the royal one, appointed by God. A son of David who is even then on his way to Jerusalem—last stop before the royal city, the city of David.
Is there still faith enough among God’s people to bring down the walls? Well, maybe in this person. Ignorance is not the only wall here. And Bartimaeus shows he has faith and persistence enough to overcome the walls others erect to keep him away from Jesus, from the source of mercy, healing, wholeness.
There is another deep irony here that immediately before this passage, we have Jesus rebuke of the 10 disciples who were so upset by the sons of Zebedee and their power play. Jesus words are still echoing from the verses just before this story: “For the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life a ransom for many.” Jesus came to serve, to save, to free. And here is one crying out for mercy, salvation, freedom – and the response of those around Jesus – “Shut up!”
Since Calvin is so present with us in other ways this reformation morning, seems fitting he should speak with us on this text as well: He says,
It is surprising that the disciples of Christ, who follow him through a sense of duty and of respect, should wish to drive wretched men from the favor of Christ, and, so far as lies in them, to prevent the exercise of his power. But it frequently happens that the greater part of those who profess the name of Christ, instead of inviting us to him, rather hinder or delay our approach.”
I first found these words in a commentary by Calvin on this passage, but saw them repeated again in a sermon for a particular group of Christians in our day who might feel like the sons and daughters of Bartimaeus:
When gay, lesbian, bisexual, and trans-identified people recognize Jesus Christ and call upon the Messiah, they are told by the Christian crowds, the people who appear to be following Jesus, to shut up. But for those who refuse to be quiet, for those who refuse to sit in their pain of rejection, God steps in and personally touches, giving the desired acceptance and healing.
In our own denomination, as those who discern a call by God to ordained service, we still struggle to be able to say in every Presbytery and very church: "Take heart; get up, he is calling you.”
Is there still faith enough among God’s people to bring down the walls? Bartimaeus demonstrates his faith not only in recognizing who Jesus is, but in his persistence in shouting long and loud so that the walls which separate him from the places of mercy and healing, from Jesus himself, might fall. But there is one last wall to fall – the wall of misunderstanding what it means to answer Jesus when he asks us: "What do you want me to do for you?"
This Bartimaeus, son of Timeaus, shows up the sons of Zebedee we heard from last week’s lesson from Mark’s gospel. Do you remember – they came, saying to Jesus: “’Teacher, we want you to do for us whatever we ask of you.’ And he said to them ‘What is it you want me to do for you?’" Their answer was to claim places of prominence and honor in the kingdom they thought was coming.
Jesus has the exact same question for this son of Timaeus that he had for the sons of Zebedee. It feels like kind of an unfair pop quiz from this one James & John had reason to call teacher. After all, the sons of Zebedee were long term disciples. They had walked with him, sat at his feet, been instructed by parable and teaching and example, witnessed with their own eyes healings and miracles. And they got it wrong. What chance does the son of Timaeus have – one who knows Jesus only be reputation, who literally cannot have seen for himself what this one was capable of, an outsider, unschooled and unskilled. "What is it you want me to do for you?" And this one, this blind stranger who has only known him for a moment and does not see him, but does perceive who he is, who even calls him Teacher as James and John do, but with this change –“My teacher.” This one finally gets it right: “My teacher, let me see again.”
He does not come like James and John, wanting glory and position, or like the ten, wanting a comeuppance for those who overstepped. Instead, he comes completely cognizant of his needs, of his brokenness, of his limitations, his inability to do anything, to change anything without grace, without mercy. And he comes knowing, or at least hoping, that this Jesus, son of David is the one who can bring mercy, give grace, work transformation. And that attitude, that approach, is what Jesus calls “his faith.” To come to Jesus hoping he is the one with grace and healing, and to come to Jesus knowing we are in need of grace and healing. Here again, outside Jericho, the walls have come a-tumblin’ down as the shout of a faithful believer in God is heard.
Is there still faith enough among God’s people to bring down the walls? Not faith as adherence to a particular set of creeds, but shouting out for healing from this one, clinging to his kind of kingship, leaping up from our customary mats and naming our needs and hurts and broken places, and claiming our place among our brothers and sisters on the way of Jesus.
Is there still faith enough among God’s people to bring down the walls? And so fully to embrace our reformed heritage and do as Calvin did in Geneva – to be particularly convinced of the Christian duty to care for the poor, to pursue ethical practices in business, to secure the public health. To reach out to our brothers and sisters in need and to bring them to the places of healing and wholeness? Not to wait for them to shout, but to hear their whispers? Or to join our voices in shouting with them for health care, for the ordination of all whom God calls to ministry, for living wages, for peaceful nations and peace between nations.
Bartimaeus is healed as Jesus utters these words, “Go, your faith has made you well.” But Bartimaeus does not go – instead he follows along the way – the way of Jesus, the Son of David – on his way to Jerusalem, the City of David. Bartimaeus is on his way to see the salvation of the Lord. The salvation of the Lord, the way of healing and welcome and grace, but also the way of suffering and sacrifice. The way our God saves. May God grant us grace that we too might walk in the way as faithful disciples.