Mary Hollingsworth in her book, Fireside Stories, tells a wonderful story about a devoted follower of Christ in Romania named Richard Rumbren. Rumbren was arrested by the Communists many years ago for believing in Jesus. For fourteen years, he and some other Christians were kept in one little room some thirty feet below the ground. And in all those years all they had was one little light bulb. It was a horrible life.
When he was finally released, Richard wrote a book titled Tortured for Christ to relate what he went through. And he began traveling about telling his story. But there was a problem. Richard Rumbren could no longer stand up. His feet were so damaged by torture that he had to sit down to speak.
After the Wall came down in 1992, Rumbren got to go back to Romania. And they took him to show him the very first Christian bookstore in that nation. They were giving him the tour and showing him the books.
Then the owner said, "Come down stairs and see all the wonderful things we have in the warehouse."
So Richard and his elderly wife went down the stairs, and when they got to the room, Richard was shocked. Then everyone was startled when Rumbren, this old man with battered feet, started dancing across the room.
"Richard, what's gotten into you?" asked the owner.
But Rumbren just started laughing and said, "This is the room they kept me in for fourteen years." (1)
No wonder Richard Rumbren was dancing. This was a place and an occasion of great significance for him.
I wonder if Bartimaeus, the beggar who once stationed himself to receive alms just outside Jericho, ever returned to the place where he first regained his sight. If he did, I wonder if he danced a little jig. Maybe he wept a few tears for joy. At one time Bartimaeus could see. We don't know what happened to rob him of his vision. An illness, an accident--the possibilities were numerous in that day of the most primitive kind of medicine. If it is cruel to be born without the ability to see this beautiful world, think how much crueler it must be to be able to see and then have your sight taken away. That happens to more people than we might imagine--even today. For example, many of us might know of an elderly person who has gradually lost his or her ability to see. It's disheartening.
But Bartimaeus was probably still a relatively young man. That compounded his loss. He needed his vision to hold down a job so he would no longer have to sit by the road and live off the alms of passersby.
Please understand that Bartimaeus did not need his vision to have a fulfilling life. There have been many persons whose physical eyes did not function as they should who have lived amazingly whole lives. I think of Helen Keller, vision-impaired and hearing-impaired who became a writer and speaker of renown and is still influencing people all over the world many years after her death. Or Fanny Crosby, that amazing songwriter who is still enriching the lives of Christians all over the world through her many Gospel hymns. In fact, Fanny Crosby is quoted as saying that she thanked God for her blindness because it allowed her soul to see.
Still, we weep for the person who cannot enjoy the beauty of a sunset, or the joy on a baby's gleeful face, or the rapturous splendor of the vast array of colors of a sunset. With all deference to Ms. Crosby, we cannot imagine, given a choice, that many people would choose to give up their physical sight.
The evidence is clear that Bartimaeus was delighted to receive his sight. This was an obsession with him--to be able to see again.
You know Bartimaeus' story. Jesus and his disciples, with a large entourage of admirers, were leaving Jericho. Bartimaeus, a blind beggar, was sitting by the roadside. When he heard that it was Jesus who was passing by, Bartimaeus began to shout, "Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!"
People nearby tried to get him to quiet down, but he cried out even more loudly, "Son of David, have mercy on me!" Do you think Bartimaeus wanted to see? I believe he did.
Jesus knew the desires of Bartimaeus' heart. So he had Bartimaeus summoned. I love what happens next. When Bartimaeus heard that Jesus was calling for him, he threw off his cloak, sprang up and came to Jesus. It sounds like in his heart he was already dancing the dance of liberation. He believed that Jesus could and would help him.
Then Jesus asked Bartimaeus an interesting question, "What do you want me to do for you?"
Bartimaeus answered, "Rabbi, let me see again."
Bartimaeus was focused. He knew that there was one thing that would improve his life and he did not allow himself to be diverted from his quest. "Rabbi," he said, "let me see again."
Jesus said to him, "Go; your faith has made you well." Immediately Bartimaeus regained his sight. Now, notice what Mark says next: he says that Bartimaeus began to follow Jesus.
Isn't that great? The story ends the way we would want it to end. A blind man has his vision restored. Out of gratitude, he begins to follow Jesus. We all love a happy ending, and this story seems to have one. And so I wonder, did Bartimaeus ever return to the place where Jesus gave him back his sight? Even more important, whatever happened to Bartimaeus? He's not mentioned again in the New Testament. Was he there on Palm Sunday when the throngs of people welcomed Jesus into Jerusalem? Where was he when Christ was crucified? There's no mention of him at the foot of the cross. And where was he when Jesus commissioned his followers to go out and make disciples of all people? Whatever happened to Bartimaeus? Why isn't he mentioned among those who carried the banners of Christ forward after Christ's ascension? Was he martyred? Or did he simply go back to Jericho, live like a normal person, support his family, try to meet his responsibilities? Could it be he lived a responsible life--a good, wholesome life--but that he never did anything of great significance on behalf of the person who delivered him from darkness?
Please don't misunderstand. I'm not passing judgement on Bartimaeus. When I think of all that Christ has done for me, I confess that my efforts in his behalf look pretty anemic too. In fact, that could be said for most of us.
One of the most beautiful hymns ever written is Isaac Watts', "When I Survey the Wondrous Cross." Do you remember how it goes?
When I survey the wondrous cross
On which the Prince of Glory died;
My richest gain I count but loss
And pour contempt on all my pride.
Were the whole realm of nature mine,
That were an offering far too small;
Love so amazing, so divine,
Demands my soul, my life, my all.
It's a beautiful hymn. But friends, it's a standard that few of us can attain. "Love so amazing, so divine, demands my soul, my life, my all." We can beat ourselves up with guilt over how much Christ has done for us and how little we have done for him. But where do we draw the line? Just how much did Christ expect out of Bartimaeus? How much does Christ expect out of us? If you have ever troubled yourself with this question, let me offer some spiritual guidance.
Christ doesn't call everyone to full-time Christian service. Do you understand that? There are some of you who grew up in a time when the church was sending missionaries out all over the world. You may have felt a tug in that direction yourself. But instead you chose to raise a family or start a business or simply follow a dream, and there is at least a little guilt in your heart that you never took that extra step of faith to give yourself to full-time Christian service.
A couple of weeks ago, we dealt with the rich young ruler. And we noted that Jesus told this young man to take everything he had and sell it and give it to the poor. We also noted that no other time in all the New Testament did Jesus ever put this demand on anyone else who came to him. Jesus was dealing with a specific issue in this young man's life. This young man was in danger of worshiping Mammon rather than God. Jesus was trying to save his soul. It does not mean that everyone who follows Christ needs to give up all their material possessions.
So it is with full-time Christian service. Christ always needs outstanding men and women who will give themselves to his service, but two thousand years ago when he had a chance to do so, it is interesting that Christ never did try to enlarge that initial circle of disciples beyond the significant number twelve. Jesus was not calling everyone to the same level of discipleship. It may be that somewhere along the way Jesus actually took Bartimaeus aside and said to him, "Look here Bart. I really appreciate the way you've served me. Ever since that day when I restored your sight outside of Jericho, you've been a faithful servant. But, Bart, I've already picked out those that I'm asking to leave everything to build my kingdom. And, Bart, you're not among them."
Can't you hear Bartimaeus protesting, "But Master, haven't I given my all for you. I may not be the natural leader that Peter is, and I may not be able to write like John, but I'm certainly as trustworthy as Andrew or Philip or Thomas or Bartholomew. I know you trust Judas with the money, but secretly I've had my doubts about him. Why can't I travel with you like them?"
And maybe Jesus replied, "Bart, just as surely as I need for Peter and James and John and Matthew and the rest to stay with me and devote themselves to remembering my words and recording my actions, I need other people who will go back to their communities and become responsible parents and responsible members of the community. I need people who will work in the fields or the factories or the offices and help society function in an efficient and effective way. I need people who can share my love in a credible way just because they are not professional religionists but because they live in the real world--the world of mortgages and deadlines and responsibilities. Could you do that for me, Bart? It's not very exciting, I know. These have been grand days, but the days ahead are going to be much more demanding. In fact, some of your friends here are going to give their lives in my behalf. I know you're willing to do the same thing, Bart, and it is a grand thing, but if every one of my followers gave their lives for me, the movement would die out very quickly. I need people living normal everyday lives to tell about me as well. That's your assignment. Will you do it, Bart, for me?"
I don't know that it happened that way, but it is possible. I can see Bartimaeus, with his few belongings in a satchel by his side making his way back to Jericho--not because he is forsaking Jesus, but because that is where Jesus wants him to be. There he will marry and have a family and join the Kiwanis and build a home and serve his community and support his church. He won't make the pages of the New Testament, but he will have done his part--just as surely as Peter or John or any of the rest. And, every once in a while he will take a friend or a family member--maybe a grandchild--to a spot just outside the city and he will say, "This is where it happened. This is where a man named Jesus gave me back my sight." And maybe he will even do a little dance.
I can see that picture because that is the same command that Christ has given to many of us. How about you? If God has planted in your heart the desire to serve in full-time Christian service, that's wonderful. I hope you'll talk to me about it. But for most of us, God wants us to serve him right where we are. Being a good neighbor, a faithful church member, a wonderful parent. And that counts for just as much as if we gave our lives in service far across the seas.
* (Nashville: Word Publishing, 2000), pp. 181-182.