OK. This will be difficult. I want you to close your eyes. I want to challenge you to sit for a few minutes with your eyes closed… and experience worship… without sight. Now, in just a few seconds, you will have this powerful urge to open your eyes and I am going to challenge you to fight it … and to ask yourself why it is so important for you to be able to see at that particular moment. You know where you are… you’re sitting in a pew in First Presbyterian Church in Stephenville. No action is being requested of you. It’s the sermon, after all. It’s that part of the service where you don’t have to do anything at all. So, why do you feel like you have to open your eyes? Is it just to see whether everyone else has their eyes closed?
Now, what happens if I stop talking to you and all you hear around you is the sound of other people breathing… or coughing… or rustling their papers… or whispering to each other? Uh-uh. Don’t peek! Just a little bit longer. Listen carefully. What do you hear? It’s hard to do that, isn’t it? To sit with your eyes closed and just listen. Uh-uh. Just a little longer… I’ll tell you when.
Try to imagine what it would be like to live your entire life without being able to see. Now, try to imagine that kind of a life back in Jesus’ day… life in an agrarian society built on manual labor… on everyone’s ability to work and to contribute fully to society. Imagine being blind and having no Seeing Eye dogs, no computer technology, no Braille, and no laws protecting your rights as a disabled individual in society. Then, try to imagine being blind in a society that was bound together by its religious beliefs … religious beliefs that were practiced by everyone in that society. Then, imagine that this society assumed that any physical disability was a direct result of sin … that such disabilities were a visible sign of God’s displeasure with that person or his or her parents. Rather than being protected by the law, those who were disabled were discriminated against as sinners, for people believed that they had been shunned by God and, therefore, should be shunned by society as well.
Now, still keep those eyes closed and imagine Bartimaeus. Bartimaeus was blind. He could not work. He could not contribute to society. He was forced to beg for food in order to survive. He was a burden… and an embarrassment to his family… shunned by other people. While not as despised as, perhaps, a leper might have been, he was barely a rung above them on the social ladder. So, he sat by the road… in the dust… begging for alms from the pilgrims who passed by on their way to Jerusalem.
There were more pilgrims on the road these days. After all, it was barely two weeks before the celebration of Passover. Lots of people were making their way to Jerusalem for the celebration. There was money to be had. (Pause Whether the pilgrims gave out of a sense of their own guilt when they saw him… or whether they gave because they were in a good mood due to the festivities ahead… it didn’t matter. Either way, Bartimaeus got money. But most of them didn’t want to get close to him… or touch him… so they often threw their coins at him. For that reason, he sat there with a cloak spread over his legs to catch any loose change that might come his way.
Your eyes are still closed, right? You’re imagining Bartimaeus. Suddenly, he heard a much larger crowd coming… more people… more animals. He could hear the shuffling of many feet and the murmur of the crowd. He could hear the laughter of children and the fussing of babies. He could hear cow bells… and the mooing… together with the bleating of many sheep. But, more than anything else, he found himself covered with clouds of dust. Bartimaeus choked on it a couple times and had to cough to clear his throat. After that, he covered his nose and mouth to protect himself. People were talking and crowding together in order to be a part of this huge group that was walking by. Some of the people on the fringes may have even kicked Bartimaeus or stumbled over him… not intentionally, but simply because they did not see him. You see, he was seated on the ground and they were looking… well, somewhere else. “What’s going on?” Bartimaeus asked a passerby. “Jesus of Nazareth,” came the answer. “Oh, you can’t even see him for the crowd, but it’s him. He’s on his way to Jerusalem.” Gosh! Don’t you wish you could open up your eyes and look now? OK. Why don’t you? It was frustrating, wasn’t it, to sit there with your eyes closed… wishing that you could see. It was only a few minutes … but it seemed like a long time.
Now, Bartimaeus had heard of Jesus of Nazareth… who hadn’t?... but he had never met him. How could he meet someone like that… a teacher… a rabbi… one who was so admired that he was constantly surrounded by crowds of people? After all, Bartimaeus was not important. He was a nothing… a nobody… less than nobody. He couldn’t even see Jesus to find him in the crowd… and the crowd would not appreciate being pushed and shoved by this poor, dirty beggar who had obviously angered God in some way. After all, he was blind. But there are two things you should know about Bartimaeus. First of all, Bartimaeus had not only heard of Jesus of Nazareth, he had heard the stories that people told about Jesus… about his power to heal… his acceptance of the poor… the sick… the maimed … the children… the sinners… about Jesus’ belief in the importance of “the least ones”… and about how some people thought he was the Messiah… the son of David.
As a result of hearing these stories, Bartimaeus knew two things. He knew that… unlike most Rabbis of the Jewish faith… Jesus would not reject him… for Jesus taught that all were loved by God and accepted in God’s kingdom. Jesus would accept him… Bartimaeus. In the presence of Jesus… at least according to the stories he had heard… Bartimaeus knew that he would be accepted. Bartimaeus also knew that Jesus had the power to restore his sight. Stories of his miracles abounded. There was no doubt that Jesus had the power to heal Bartimaeus. If Bartimaeus could just get close to Jesus, there was a chance that he would finally be able to see.
The second thing you should know about Bartimaeus is that he was definitely not the shy, retiring type. Probably, to his mother’s endless embarrassment and dismay, Bartimaeus didn’t stay at home… out of sight… sitting in a corner… being content with making potholders all day. Instead, he left the house and got out there… in the middle of the city… on the main road… and sat… crying out to the righteous ones passing by… begging for food. He didn’t just sit silently and wait to be waited on. He demanded their attention. He was a fixture on the main road. Everyone knew him.
So, it really didn’t surprise anybody from Jericho that Bartimaeus cried out to Jesus that day. “Hey, Jesus, son of David…” But the people in the crowd were different. They weren’t hometown folk. They didn’t know Bartimaeus. But they knew that no one should be yelling at Jesus that way. He was their Rabbi… their teacher. “Hey, Jesus, son of David…” “Hush!” Those closest to Bartimaeus turned to quiet him. “Are you nuts! What are you doing?” Bartimaeus didn’t care… this was his one chance. “Jesus, son of David, have mercy on me!” “Who do you think you are? Shut up!” It didn’t help. Their words had the opposite effect. Bartimaeus’ voice was louder than ever: “Jesus, son of David, have mercy on me!” Jesus stopped, and he said to the people in the crowd around him, “Call him.” So, they turned toward Bartimaeus and called to him, “Take heart! Get up! He’s calling you.” They probably did not realize, at first, that he was blind.
Now, I am going to assume that the crowd stopped when Jesus stopped. I am also going to assume that the crowd cleared the way for Bartimaeus to get to Jesus. Now, there were two reasons to do this. First of all, Jesus clearly said that he wanted to talk to this man. Secondly, no one in the crowd wanted to touch this dirty beggar who had been cursed by God, so a path was cleared for him. Bartimaeus threw aside his cloak… jumped to his feet, and came to Jesus. There was no hesitation in his steps, for he knew that he would be welcomed. He would be accepted by Jesus. So, Bartimaeus walked right up to him.
Once Bartimaeus was standing in front of Jesus, Jesus asked him, “What do you want me to do for you?” The answer was bold and confident: “My Teacher, let me see again.” Jesus’ answer was equally swift. “Go,” he said, “your faith has made you well.” And immediately, Bartimaeus regained his sight. Jesus asked nothing of Bartimaeus in return for this gift. It was given freely… unconditionally… no strings attached. And yet, what did Bartimaeus do? He chose to follow Jesus along the road… the road that would take them to Jerusalem… and death.
What can we learn from this story? Several things. First of all, everyone has a place at God’s table. The gift that God gives was given for all… not just for the righteous … the wealthy… the privileged… or those who count themselves “close” to Jesus. It was also given for the poor… the marginalized… the disenfranchised… the sinners… and those who sit on the fringes of society. Everyone has a place at God’s table. The door is open for all to come in. And everyone has a voice in the kingdom. Every person has the right to speak… and to be heard. Every voice is important… and God hears each one. But, nothing is going to happen if you stay at home… out of sight … sitting in the corner… making potholders. And nothing is going to happen if you sit silently… in the dust… by the side of the road. Like Bartimaeus, you have to make your voice heard above the crowd. You have to claim your place at God’s table. You have to claim the gifts that God gives.
A few years ago, there was a song that was recorded by Garth Brooks. The song was called “The River,” and, if you’ve never heard it, I encourage you to find a copy of it and listen to it. The words are intriguing. I won’t quote the whole song to you, but I do want to share the words of the second stanza. It goes like this:
Too many times we stand aside
and let the waters slip away
'til what we put off 'til tomorrow
has now become today.
So don't you sit upon the shoreline
and say you're satisfied –
Choose to chance the rapids
and dare to dance the tide.
You see, if you sit silently… and let the crowd go by… waiting to be waited on… waiting to be seen or heard… feeling unimportant… you will probably get left in the dust… with nothing but some loose change in your cloak. There is not a doubt in my mind that, if Bartimaeus had not called out to Jesus that day, he would have been left behind by the crowd… still sitting by the side of the road… blind as a bat.
Sitting silently is not what God has called you to do. If you are sitting in this church today, then God has called you to ministry… no matter why you think you’re here. You have a place at God’s table… a voice in God’s kingdom. What are you doing? …sitting silently at home or on the sidelines… thinking that your voice doesn’t count in this church or that your voice won’t be heard… letting the crowd pass you by? The gifts of God were given for you. You have a place in God’s kingdom. Claim your place at the table. Make your voice heard.
But, there’s something else we need hear in this text. And that’s the message for those of us who think we are standing close to Jesus… those of us who have been serving the church faithfully for many years… sitting on committees… teaching Sunday School… leading in worship… for us, there is a different message. That message is simply this: We need to turn to the people on the fringes and say to them, “Take heart! Get up! He’s calling you.” Then, clear the path. Get out of the way. Make room for those on the fringes… for they, too, have a place in God’s kingdom.
The church of Jesus Christ is not a special club… and the gifts of God were not given just for those who serve… they were given for all. Every person created in the image of God is loved by God and invited to the feast. The gifts of God are not just for those of us who are here today… but they are also for those who are not. When was the last time that we invited them to come? When was the last time that we invited them to speak? When was the last time we said to them, as Jesus said to Bartimaeus, “What do you want me to do for you?” You see, we all have responsibilities in this story. Those of us who have sat silently on the sidelines are called to claim our place and make our voices heard. And those of us who have been close to the heart of the church are called to look for those who are sitting on the sidelines and invite them to get involved… and to make room for them. Because, you see, we’re all going to Jerusalem. We are all called to follow him. Amen?
Mark 10:46-52; Job 42:1-6, 10-17; Hebrews 7:23-28