The courage to see, (10/24/21)

 Mark 10:46-52

If you want to really understand a piece of music or composer well, you would want to listen to a movement or a symphony or an album in its’ entirety, not just little snippets.  This would be the case for anyone from Beethoven to Paul McCarthy.  One soundbite of the Puerto Rican group, Calle 13 would get you the line “You’re a thief.”  One song or especially one album of theirs would get you a fascinating and poetic, sociopolitical critique.  Now, I’ve never grouped the gospel of Jesus Christ directly with Calle 13, and there is a whole other sermon in that, but I’ll simply say, that, for the purpose of today, one sound byte of Jesus’ message just can’t give us the same flavor that the arc of a story would.  

In this section of the gospel of Mark that we’ve been exploring the last few weeks, we hear about the disciples grasping to understand who Jesus is.  What does it mean to follow this guy? Today, we hear a story about a man named Bartimaeus who was blind. But before we get to his sound byte, we need to back it up a little.  

In the first half of the gospel of Mark, Jesus tells the disciples to follow him. They spend the first chunk of time with him soaking up his teachings as they travel around.  Jesus does a lot of awesome things: he heals a bunch of people, he calms a violent storm, he feeds 4,000 folx with some fish and bread, he walks on water, he teaches the crowds stuff like “don’t put your lamp under a bowl but let it shine.” 

He and the disciples are ministering all over the place until one day, they come to a place called Bethsaida in the region of Galilee where the tides begin to turn. At Bethsaida, there’s a man who (like today’s man, Bartimaeus) can’t see. Jesus puts spit on the man’s eyes and he can see clearly.  Whether this is physical clarity of vision or spiritual clarity of vision, or a little of both, we’re not entirely sure, but something happens as they leave that place and head for Cesarea Philipi that leads the disciple Peter to announce: 

“All right, Jesus. I’m convinced. I’ve seen enough. You are the messiah.” 

It’s at this point where Jesus sets the record straight with the disciples for the first time.  He is trying to help the disciples see clearly. 

“You’ve got it backwards,” Jesus says to them. 

Jesus is indeed the messiah, but not the traditional version many people in some Jewish circles were hoping for. He was not a military monarch who was going to thunder in on the cavalry overthrow Rome in an act of power and might. Jesus didn’t bulldoze every obstacle in his path. It seems upside down, Jesus explained, but the way of strength is one of service, generosity and love.

A few days later, Jesus repeats the conversation with the disciples. The this time,  the disciples aren’t calling for a glorious military victory, instead, they’re arguing, mirror mirror on the wall, who is the greatest of us all, and Jesus again says,  “you’ve got it backwards,” and he takes a child into his lap.  This is not a journey to the top as the world defines it with the A+ career and perfect partner, and perfect everything. This is a journey to become the “least of these,” he says, holding the child, not the greatest of them all. Instead of grasping and striving for the worldly best, its’ a journey of service, open heartedness and grace.

Round three, the disciples and Jesus enter the ring again and this time, two of Jesus’ disciples ask him if they can one day sit in glorious stardom as “superstar-disciples” at his right hand: the best followers ever. Take a wild guess how that one went over…

For the third time, Jesus shakes his head:  “You’ve got it backwards, man,” he says.  We’re not about leveling up in the great competition of life, but leveling down to service and grace. That is the locus of true power,” he explains.

Three times, Jesus returns to this chorus of the love. 

Will the disciples get it? 

Will they see it? 

Will it sink in?

Although it might appear that the world turns on an axis of power and striving and money, there is a deep heartbeat underneath the surface that propels everything.  This is the deep stabilizing muscle of service, generosity and grace, a shared physics of love.  This is God’s essence and it is the gravity that everything hinges on. Jesus is trying to reorient his disciples.  He’s trying to get them to pivot. Will they see what he is trying to show them?

At the point of today’s story, I don’t know if the disciples really got it that they were now headed towards Jerusalem. Or more specifically, towards Golgatha towards that hill with a cross on it.   But they are.

At this point in the story, they’re passing through the city of Jericho about 20 miles outside of Jerusalem. Jericho was the city where light dawned for the ancient Israelites as they entered the promised land. And it’s there, passing through the city that a second man who was blind, named Bartimaeus, cried out, “Jesus, son of David, have mercy on me!” And Jesus stops in his tracks.

Confucius once said that, “To see what is right and not do it is want of courage.”

Bartimaeus, the blind man, sees. He sees this upside down way of life that Jesus is teaching. This “last shall be first” business.  He gets it. But that day there on the side of the road, not only does he get it, he shouts out and rankles people, he throws off his cloak, he tells Jesus how he wants to see again. Bartimaeus doesn’t see Jesus, son of David, who will topple the system from above, but Jesus, son of David, will revolutionize it from below.  This is Jesus who hears his cries of suffering on the side of the road and does something about it. 

When Jesus talks about having faith (particularly in the gospel of Mark), It’s almost always bound up with the word courage.  In the gospel of Mark, there are stories of a dad who boldly lobbies for healing for his daughter, a woman who courageously reaches out to touch Jesus’ cloak, a man who persistently shouts out from the side of the road, even when folks try to silence him.

Although the disciples may understand what the way of Jesus looks like, are they just following along and studying Jesus, or are they actually employing stuff he’s talking about? When the rubber hits the road, do they have the courage to put the lessons into practice and really live them?

To invert Confucius’ saying: Courage is to see what is right. And do it.

I am provoked by Bartimaeus. This brash, bold disciple who gets what Jesus is about and follows him into Jerusalem. It is directly after this interaction with Bartimaeus that Jesus will ride into Jerusalem, not on a warhorse calling for people to draw their swords, but on a donkey the people will crowd around him as he rides into Jerusalem they will waive palms and cry out “All glory, laud and honor to you redeemer King, Hosanna!” After Jesus rides into Jerusalem, Roman power with brute force and violence will strike him down and nail him to a cross, but the way of servanthood and love and generosity will not be defeated.  And he will rise. 

I see what Jesus is about. I study his teachings. I hear them. I wrestle with them. I know them. The question is, when the rubber hits the road, do I have the courage to live them? To let God write my song into this symphony? To follow Jesus to the cross?  (The cross being places of poverty or mental illness or sickness or bigotry or addiction or even my own pain).  To follow Jesus into the pain and struggle that my neighbor feels? …Through being patient. Through forgiving?  Through sharing my money more sacrificially?  Through living more simply?  Though being more vulnerable about my ups and downs in life?  As people of faith, there are life-changing consequences to really seeing who Jesus is. And we must live differently because of it. 

We see these teachings of Jesus. They’re mind benders, but they’re not rocket-science. The question is: Will we let them transform us? How is my life shaped by this clear-eyed vision?  How is yours?