Calling Out in the Darkness
Mark 10:46-52
Sermon
by Steven Molin

He was an embarrassment; he had been ever since he went blind. He would sit there on that mat, tin cup in hand, begging for alms. "Gifts for the poor! Gifts for the poor!" he would cry out in his darkness. And people would step around him, though some would dare to place a coin in his coffer. "Thank you, kind sir! May the Lord bless you for your generosity!" And then his litany would resume again: "Gifts for the poor! Gifts for the poor!"

It hadn't always been this way. The son of Timaeus was born a healthy baby boy. He played with the other children in Jericho, he even attended school. But then something happened; Bartimaeus lost his sight, and became persona non gratis in his hometown. His family put him out on the street, the synagogue deemed him a sinner, and his friends abandoned him. Oh, he did have one colleague, a fellow blind beggar who joined him on the street, but that was the extent of his contact with humanity.

But this day, he was all alone on the roadside, when he heard the commotion of an approaching crowd. "It's Jesus!" someone whispered. "It's Jesus, so shut up and don't humiliate us!" But this only gave Bartimaeus impetus to call out all the more. "Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!" Men surrounded him; they shielded him from Jesus' sight, but there was no quieting his voice. "Jesus, have mercy! Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!" And then, amazingly, Jesus stopped. "Call him here." And suddenly, the man's life was changed forever.

When he came face-to-face with the Savior, Jesus asked the man "What do you want me to do for you?" It seems like a silly question, doesn't it? Hello! Jesus! Isn't it obvious what the man is asking for? Didn't you notice that he was blind? But the question Jesus asked was, as always, insightful and brilliant. He wanted the man to be specific. The blind man did not ask for pity, or financial security, or protection from the locals. He was quick with his request: "I want my sight back." And Jesus was just as immediate with his response: "Go!" Jesus said, "Your faith has healed you." No spittle in this healing story, no showing of one's self to the religious authorities. Jesus saw in this blind man two things; a desire for change, and belief that Jesus could provide it. So he did. And from that moment on, he was a follower of the Savior.

I wonder what I'd have asked for. That is to say, I wonder what need is so pressing in my life that, if I had the undivided attention of the Son of God, what would my request be? What would yours be? This isn't a genie popping out of a lamp and offering you three wishes; it is God asking what our heart's desire is for this life. So, what would you say? What would I say? Don't answer too quickly, but dwell on that provocative question for a moment while I tell you a story.

When my wife and I were in Tanzania, we felt like socio-economic minorities for the first time in our lives. At worship, we were the only white faces in a sea of black. In the market, we weren't merely the only Caucasians, we were among the few wearing shoes! Everywhere we went, we were the wealthy, healthy ones. When we were approached by a roving gang of small children rushing toward us in Mlafu, we assumed they would beg for money. My wife clutched her purse, and I felt for my billfold. Here came the poorest of the poor! And when the children finally reached us, do you know what they asked for? They asked, "Will you take my picture? Will you take my picture?" And when we had snapped several photos of these beautiful children, they began to squeal with delight "Now let me see it! Let me see what you see!"

Ultimately, that was the request of the blind man that Jesus met on the road outside of Jericho that day. The man simply wanted to see what everyone else saw. But the real miracle that day is that, when the man gained his sight, he chose to follow Jesus. He was not satisfied to merely see the sights, to find familiar faces and places in his hometown. He wanted to see the world from Jesus' point of view ... to see the people and the places and the problems and the possibilities that Jesus saw. So he chose to leave behind what would have certainly been a notorious reputation ("I once was blind, but now I see!"). And we never hear from this man again in scripture. We don't know if he became a disciple, or a devotee, or a deserter. What we do know is that once Jesus gave the man his sight, the man was no longer content to hang around Jericho. He wanted to see the world through Jesus' eyes.

And that brings me back to the question: What do you want Jesus to do for you? In truth, he has already done so much, what else is there? Christians — especially Christians in the West — are the proverbial "what do you give to people who already have everything?" We have forgiveness for our sins, we have the promise of life eternal, and we have the keys to the kingdom of heaven. What else is there? What else could we possibly want Jesus to do for us? Perhaps only this; to see the world as Jesus sees it. To look at the fringe people of our world with compassion instead of judgment. To look at the poor and reach out to them in mercy, instead of grabbing and guarding our own purses and billfolds. To see broken, sinful, disobedient people and treat them with forgiveness and grace instead of rejection and scorn. In short, to see others the same way Jesus sees us, and then, to love them.

But I fear that Christians are some of the most blind people on the planet. In fact, it is the very essence of a song by the late Keith Green, titled "Asleep In The Light." If Jesus came back and told the story of the good Samaritan, we might be the priest and the Levite who walked by on the other side. If our cities were twenty-first-century Jerichos, we would be the ones telling the blind and the lame and the disenfranchised to shut up and not embarrass us while Jesus was passing through. If Jesus entered most of our "synagogues," I expect that we would be the Pharisees whose lukewarm lives would make him vomit! (That's what it says in Revelation 3:20, you know!) And perhaps if we saw ourselves through Jesus' eyes, we might want to vomit, too!

Several years ago, when we crafted our congregation's purpose statement, we were pleased with what we created: "Grounded in faith, gathered in love, and sent with a purpose: so that others may gain the kingdom!"

Upon hearing it, one member of the church asked me, "Others? Others? What about us?" Isn't it always about us? That's the problem! Until we come to faith, the gospel is always about us; and once we come to faith, the gospel is always about others. People, we are the blind beggar on that road to Jericho! Jesus has given us light and life. But once we see the world as Jesus sees it, we cannot sit on our mats any longer. What we do for the least of these, we do for Jesus.

I have a prayer-dare for you: I dare you to ask Jesus to let you see your world with his eyes. I dare you to ask Jesus to make you and me acutely aware of the hurting and the helpless and the people without hope. Because if we see them — if we really notice them — I don't think we can merely pass by and pretend that they don't exist. Imagine if Christians around the world took this dare seriously; to see and to act as the eyes and the hands of Christ! Why, it would change the world.

One more story. There is a legend, believed to be true, about Abraham Lincoln, just before the close of the Civil War. Landowners in the Deep South were cutting their losses, liquidating their slaves before slavery became banned, and President Lincoln came upon a slave auction in progress. A young girl was placed upon the auction block, in front of all the bidders and gawkers. With defiance and disdain, the woman scanned the crowd, daring someone to start the bidding. Lincoln did — and when he won the bid and took possession of the young woman, she was belligerent. "What are you going to do with me?" she asked. "I'm going to set you free" the president answered. "Set me free? What do you mean, ‘Set me free?' Free for what?" Abraham Lincoln said, "Free. Free to do what you want to do. Free to go where you want to go." The astonished woman replied, "Then I choose to go with you." After a lifetime of yearning for freedom, the first thing this former slave chooses to do when she becomes free is to yield herself back under the authority of someone else. This is our call.

You and I are free; that's what Jesus said. May we use our freedom to be his servants in a dark and hurting world, and reflect his glorious light! May this begin today. Thanks be to God. Amen.

CSS Publishing Company, Inc., Sermons for Sundays after Pentecost (Last Third):The Final Exam, by Steven Molin