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Jesus and his disciples had stopped in Jericho as they made the long and difficult journey toward Jerusalem. Just outside the gate, a man sat—one who we are told had to depend on the notice and compassion of others to eat and stay warm. His sight was diminished to the point that not only was he dependent on others for money, shelter, and food, he was unable to see, on his own, obstacles in his path and so his journey in life was slow and unsure (perilous, precarious) Somehow he had heard about Jesus and how he had healed others. And so sitting outside of Jericho on the side of the road, when he learned that Jesus was nearby, he began to cry out, “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me.” At first, he was not noticed, but he continued crying out, “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me.” This man’s name was Bartimaeus. He called out to Jesus, as the Messiah and asked for mercy. When Jesus stopped and asked him to be brought to him, Bartimaeus threw off his cloak, sprung to his feet and raced to Jesus’ side. Jesus asked “What is it you want me to do for you?” These words should sound familiar. It is the same question that Jesus asked his disciples, James and John in last week’s Gospel reading.

Remember, James and John came to Jesus and said to him, “Teacher, we want you to do for us whatever we ask of you.” They are trying to set the agenda. They are trying to put Jesus in a space where they are in control. They hope to corner Jesus into giving them what they want. In love, Jesus asks them, “What is it you want me to do for you?” Their reply is that they want to be up front, in charge, close to the action and the glory that is to come. They want to be put on Jesus’ right and left hand—they want to be in positions of power– leading alongside Jesus.

In our story today, we hear a different way of asking and a very different request. Bartimaeus does not crowd in Jesus, boxing him in to give him what he wants. Instead he asks for mercy. From the beginning he puts his faith in Jesus’ goodness. He puts his trust in Jesus’ love, giving himself over to Jesus’ compassion. Bartimaeus asks Jesus to notice him and to hear his prayer. Now Bartimaeus is not timid or shy. He calls out repeatedly. He knows that it is important that Jesus see him. He continues to call out and ask for Jesus’ mercy even when those in the crowd try to make him be quiet. But then Jesus responds to him and Bartimaeus wastes no time. He leaves everything, even his cloak, which may have been his only possession—the one thing that gave him warmth, the one thing he used to collect the gifts that he depended on receiving from others. But nothing will stand between Bartimaeus and the healing touch of Jesus. When Jesus asks him what he wants him to do for him, Bartimaeus asks to be able to see again—to be made physically and spiritually whole. And Jesus, recognizing in this radical response a trust that is the mark of a disciple, he says to him, “Your faith has made you well.” And we are told that “immediately” his sight is restored and rather than going off—he responds as only he could—he becomes a follower of the way of Jesus.

Putting our faith in God is the firm foundation that makes life worth living. It is believing in God who created us and all that is. It is putting our faith in God who loved us into being, who is always with us and on who we can count to walk beside us each day of our lives—guiding us in our journey, opening our hearts to all of life’s possibilities, helping us see that everything we have is a gift from God who wants to give us every good thing in God’s kingdom.

Now I know this and I believe this, but somehow, I find James and John in me. While I profess to long for the freedom of casting off everything that keeps me from Jesus’ healing touch, I also have trouble casting off my desire for control and my stubborn belief that it all depends on me. How about you? I have been steeped in the belief that while I am truly grateful to God for God’s goodness—I often act as if it really depends on me alone. For a very long time—I have heard the mantra of responsibility and duty. I am the oldest daughter after all. Our families depend on us. Our jobs depend on us. If we don’t do it, it will not get done. It all rests on our shoulders. Oh I pray and I give thanks, but throwing off my cloak—leaving it all behind to give it all up to trust in Jesus?. I hear the words of James and John echoing in my ear. God give me what I need and I will be your right hand woman. Help me be enough, have enough, do enough and then I will follow you.

This is not a promotion for being reckless with our lives or the lives of others. But it is a call to consider how putting our faith in God can make us well.

The good news for me and for all who hear James and John resonating in their journey to Jesus, is that Jesus always responds in love. He continues to teach and ask us to reflect on what it is that we want from Jesus. Jesus is always giving us a “do over—a second, third…chance” This journey of faith is a long one where we are continually called and given the opportunity to jump up and leave behind our worries, our fears, our belief that everything depends on us—or whatever our cloak may be. It is our opportunity, day by day, to trust in the infinite mercy of God who is always doing more for us that we could ask or possibly imagine. … Evelyn Underhill reminds us that all real progress in things of the spirit comes “gently, imperceptibly, and is the work of God.”[1]

Faith is a journey, a pilgrimage, a searching. Faith encounters life, and in doing so, faith changes direction. And God who is always on the move seeks you and leads you onward. Faith is not a one sized fits all prospect. There is not one plan for each us. Instead God who knows us and loves us is constantly asking, “What is it you want me to do for you?” The invitation is always there to run to God and ask for healing. As we move through life, God moves along with us and God’s loving and knowing us forms the ground of our being. Our work is to recognize our need for healing and be willing to call out for mercy.

Our faith can make us well. We begin with knowing that God is always merciful and ready to respond to our every need. God has already given us what we need—not just a beautiful world filled with life-giving resources—but also our very breath, the ability to live in this moment, and all the other moments of this life. We have been given the ability to think, to feel, to remember, to hope. We have been given people to love and care for us. We have been given good work to do that brings us joy by being able to give of ourselves and receive blessings from others.

When anxiety or worry enters our lives, we can remind ourselves of how much God loves us. I can turn to God in thanksgiving for whatever I am able to appreciate in that moment—however small—but this seeing opens larger doors to God’s love. And the more I experience the freedom of God’s mercy the more mercy flows from me into the lives of others. I want to share God’s love.

And when I remember how much God has given me it can serve as a wonderful corrective to my desire to give and be everything to everyone without asking for mercy and receiving gifts from others. I can step aside and recognize that my need for control or belief that it all depends on me is a trap and a sign of my need for healing. We all can be blind to our need—for God and for others. Remembering and calling out for God opens us to the work of God in our lives.

When Bartimaeus is healed, Jesus tells him to “Go.” For others healed earlier in Mark’s Gospel, they were sent away with the command to tell no one. But when Bartimaeus receives his sight, he can only respond by following Jesus, the Messiah, who has opened the way of good news of God’s kingdom to him in such a tangible way.

We too, when moment by moment, Jesus responds to our need for healing, we want to respond to his mercy by following him. In experiencing God’s goodness, God’s reaching out to us and supplying our need, it is our great gift to respond in love and service. The more we the goodness of God moves through our lives, the more we want to share this goodness with all. We do not respond out of duty, but out of devotion. We do not follow Jesus because he demands it, but because we delight in this gift.

We are fragile and imperfect followers of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. But still he calls to us, “What would you have me do for you?” And our response is to get up, to remove all cloaks that may hinder us and, in gratitude, follow Jesus in faith, knowing that it is in believing and truly giving ourselves into the arms of God’s mercy, that we will be made well.

 

[1] Evelyn Underhill. The Fruits of the Spirit.