In today’s sermon, we’re exploring the blind beggar Bartimaeus as an example of faith for us today.
This is the sermon for St. Peter Lutheran Church in Greene, Iowa, for October 24, 2021. The Scripture readings for today are Jeremiah 31:7-9 and Mark 10:46-52, and I found helpful Debie Thomas’ 2018 column on this story as well as the conversation in my text study group.
Grace to you and peace from God our Creator and the Lord Jesus Christ. Amen
If you were to name your favorite Bible character, who would be? Jesus, of course. Then who? Moses? Peter? (Peter’s one of mine.) Paul? Mary? Jonah?
I’m guessing none of you would write down Bartimaeus, son of Timaeus. Even his name is kind of boring—the Bar- prefix literally means son of, so he’s basically Timaeus Junior, the beggar. Other than his blindness, there’s nothing notable about him. He’s not the sort of person who makes it into the history books. This is the only place he’s mentioned in the Bible.
And yet, in this story of Jesus Mark is telling, Bartimaeus is an example of faith. He’s a role model for us.
Let me use one of the techniques we’ve talked about in the Thursday night Making Sense of Scripture class, and look at the context of this story. Let’s zoom out a little and look at earlier in chapter 10.
Two weeks ago, we heard about a rich man who was interested in following Jesus, but when Jesus told him to sell all he had and give the money to the poor, he went away grieving, for he had many possessions. Loving your stuff more than you love Jesus is an example of how not to be a disciple.
Then, right after that story, there’s a scene on the road with James and John (two of the disciples) asking Jesus to give them places of honor, to have one of them sit at his right hand and one at his left when he comes into his glory.
They’re interested in power and honor, but Jesus explains to them that greatness in God’s kingdom is found in serving, not in being served. We skipped over that story last week for our generosity celebration, but it’s another example of how not to be a disciple. Disciples don’t put wealth and possessions ahead of Jesus, and disciples don’t seek power and honor.
That context is important for today’s story. The rich ruler doesn’t get it; even the disciples don’t get it; but this blind beggar Bartimaeus does. He understands Jesus’ mission, and he responds in faith.
Bartimaeus is the only one here who truly recognizes Jesus, the only one who correctly identifies him. This is the first time anyone in Mark’s story labels Jesus with the title “Son of David.” The irony, of course, is that Bartimaeus can’t even see him. But he’s paying attention, he’s listening to the stories, and by faith, he grasps what’s happening.
Jesus is doing what he’s supposed to be doing, according to the prophet Jeremiah. In Jesus, God is on the move, gathering God’s people, all of them, even the ones often overlooked, the lame and the blind. Even someone like him, a beggar. True disciples come from the most unexpected places.
And Mark gives us a great little detail to demonstrate Bartimaeus’ faith. When Jesus invites him to come, Mark writes, “Throwing off his cloak, he sprang up and came to Jesus.” He “sprang up” is a great phrase. There’s eagerness there, excitement.
But I love that detail about his cloak. I hadn’t thought about it until I was studying this story this week, but that cloak is important. As a poor beggar, Bartimaeus’ cloak is the most important thing he owns. It’s what he sits on, it’s his blanket at night, his umbrella, probably even what he uses to collect money in.
It’s a cultural detail we miss, but it’s in the Bible elsewhere too. Exodus 22:26-27 says, “If you take your neighbor’s cloak in pawn [as a security pledge for a debt], you shall restore it before the sun goes down; for it may be your neighbor’s only clothing to use as cover; in what else shall that person sleep?”
A cloak is important enough that it’s off-limits to debt-collectors. It’s valuable, especially to a beggar. But when Jesus calls Bartimaeus, he does the opposite of the rich man earlier in the chapter. He doesn’t let his possessions get in the way of following Jesus. He throws off his cloak, exchanging what he has for something better. This is discipleship.
And notice too: This is even before Jesus heals him. Once he comes to Jesus, Jesus asks him, “What do you want me to do for you?” The answer is probably obvious, but it’s a fascinating question, because it’s the same question Jesus asked James and John, the disciples, in the previous story. Their answer was that they wanted honor and power.
Bartimaeus just wants to see again. He wants to be included in the community. And Jesus gives him what he asks for. Immediately he regained his sight and followed him on the way. He moves from begging on the side of the road to following Jesus down the road.
That too is significant, because at this point in the story, Jesus is on his way down a particular road to a particular place. This road leads to Jerusalem.
The very next story is the triumphal entry into Jerusalem, the Palm Sunday story (where, by the way, others will also throw their cloaks off, onto the ground in front of Jesus). Jesus is on his way to die. That’s where Bartimaeus is following him. He’s willing to give up everything to follow his King into danger, on the way to the cross.
This is Mark’s example of faith, an invitation for you and I to consider how willing we are to follow Jesus. We may not have been literally healed of blindness, but certainly Jesus has opened our eyes. Jesus has made us whole. Will we heed Bartimaeus’ example and follow?
There’s one more character—or group of characters—in the story I want to look at: The crowd.
When Bartimaeus heard Jesus was coming, he started shouting to him for mercy, for help. But many sternly ordered him to be quiet. He persisted and cried out more loudly, Jesus noticed him, and it all worked out, but go back to the crowd for a minute. Isn’t it interesting that there’s a whole group of people in this story trying to silence Bartimaeus?
Perhaps they’re trying to protect Jesus, keep him from being bothered by yet another person looking for help. Maybe they’re embarrassed that Bartimaeus lives in their village. They’re assuming Jesus doesn’t want to deal with this beggar. No one wants a scene, right?
I’m challenged to wonder how often we do the same thing. How often do we try to ignore the people who need help at the most inconvenient times?
Or maybe not exactly ignore, but, you know, gently redirect to ask for help the right way, so no one has to feel uncomfortable. Sometimes desperate people aren’t easy to deal with, and so we make the assumption Jesus won’t want to be bothered by them. And somehow it’s usually them, not us who are inconvenient.
A pastor friend in text study this week shared about a pastor he knew who was a church planter. Early in his career, he’d gone to a new town to start a church, and he started by calling every number in the phone book and asking each person if they had a church home, and if not, if they were interested in checking out this new one.
What he learned was that calling every number is a terrible way to plant a church, because only the people who are needy show up. Only the people who are looking for something, who don’t have it all together, the desperate ones show up, not the wealthy or contented. It’s hard to build a financially sustainable ministry from people like that.
And yet, isn’t that exactly who ought to be in a church? Isn’t that exactly who Jesus invites, who Jesus says to us, “Call them here?”
When they realize Jesus is paying attention to him, that Jesus does care, the crowd quickly changes their tune. They called the blind man, saying to him, “Take heart; get up, he is calling you.”
This too is Mark’s example of what discipleship looks like, inviting people to Jesus, helping people hear Jesus calling them.
Please pray with me.
Lord Jesus, help us to hear your call, your call to us and to our neighbors, even those neighbors we’d rather not notice. And give us the faith of Bartimaeus, the faith to follow you on the journey of faith as your disciples, all the way to the cross.
Amen