Archive for the ‘Bartimaues’ Category

I once was blind but now I see – the healing of Bartimaeus

October 26, 2024

Pentecost 23 – 2024

Mark 10-46-52

Marian Free

In the name of God who opens the eyes to the truth of God’s being.  Amen.

One of the privileges of ministry has been teaching religious education. Trying to share the faith at age-appropriate levels or finding ways to encourage children to understand that God wants to encourage, not demand; to affirm, not condemn has led to some very deep reflection, to some amazing insights and above all to some magical moments in the classroom.

Children, at least those of eight years old and older, bring to religious education a degree of scepticism. Without fail, someone in the class will ask: but what about the dinosaurs? They, possibly influenced by their parents, want to challenge the creation story – the one at the beginning of Genesis that, if taken literally, suggests that God created the world in seven days. As someone who grew up with a copy of The Evolution of the Species on my bookshelf, I was never fazed by the question. The problem was, how could I explain say that I didn’t think the Genesis story was true without discrediting the Bible as a whole – especially when the students were only in year four (turning nine).

After some thought and much prayer, it occurred to me that Aesop’s Fables might provide the answer. When asked the question I would tell the story of the tortoise and the hare and ask the children if it were true. Students, eager to please, often said: ‘yes’. To which I would respond can animals really talk? ‘No’ they would say. ‘Does it tell us something that is true?’ I’d ask. ‘Yes!” would be the answer. This gave me an opportunity to draw a parallel with the accounts of creation in Genesis. They are not historically accurate, but they do reveal truths – truths about creation, about the human desire to be independent of God and so on.

One of the most rewarding lessons was the occasion on which I could almost see the cogs turning in a young girl’s head and a light bulb coming on as she realised that the Bible didn’t have to be historically accurate to be true. It was truly like watching her eyes open for the first time, as if this was something that had puzzled and now everything had fallen into place. 

Many of us have had such light bulb moments – those occasions when suddenly we see clearly – what we have to do, how to move forward, how to let go of the past. Sometimes those moments are lifechanging and we cannot believe that we had lived without such insights.

What does this have to do with Bartimaeus I hear you ask. Well, in one sense nothing. But it does have a lot to do with Mark’s telling of the Jesus’ story and in particular Jesus’ teaching on discipleship.

Many scholars believe that Mark 8:22 –10:52 form a discrete section in which Jesus teaches the disciples. Here, Jesus is revealing his true self and his mission to the disciples and educating them as to what it means to be disciples. Three times in these chapters Jesus announces that he is to suffer and die and to rise again, twice he reminds his disciples that the greatest among them will have to become their servant, and that they must become like children to enter the kingdom. The disciples are told that they must take up their cross and follow Jesus, that they must lose their life to gain it, and that with mortals it is impossible to enter the kingdom of heaven.

Throughout this section, as Jesus tries to prepare the disciples for what Jerusalem has in store and the disciples consistently reveal their failure to understand, their determination that Jesus should be the type of Messiah that they were expecting. Peter rebukes Jesus when he says he has to suffer, the disciples argue about who is the greatest, and James and John ask to sit at Jesus’ right hand and his left.

Interestingly, the discussion on Jesus’ suffering and what it means to be disciples is framed by accounts of Jesus’ healing a blind man. The stories are very different, which suggest that Mark has deliberately sandwiched Jesus’ announcements between two stories of receiving sight. It is the differences between the healing stories that lead to this conclusion.  

In the first account (Mk 8:22-26) the blind man is brought to Jesus. Jesus takes the man outside the village, puts saliva on the man’s eyes and lays hands on him. When he asks if the man can see, he responds that he can see people but that they look like trees walking. Jesus tries again and this time the man is able to see. Once he is healed, he is sent (and he goes) home.

Bartimaeus does not need to be brought to Jesus. He is sitting begging on the road to Jerusalem.  When he hears that Jesus of Nazareth is near, he calls out: “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!”  Bartimaeus has agency (he does not need to be brought to Jesus). He has insight: he knows that Jesus is the one promised by God – Son of David. He is enthusiastic: he springs up and goes to Jesus. He is healed by Jesus’ word, and he is fully healed. He is told to go but instead he chooses to follow Jesus.

That Mark has chosen to frame Jesus’ journey and his revelations about himself, his mission and discipleship with stories of people coming to sight suggest that the gospel writer is describing for his readers a process of coming to understanding, of gaining insight that leads them to a fuller understanding of Jesus. That the first blind man didn’t see immediately reflects partial knowledge, knowledge that allows one to accept healing, but not to follow.  Bartimaeus is healed, he sees clearly, he leaves everything[1] and follows Jesus. All that Jesus has been trying to teach his disciples, Bartimaeus knows in an instant. His eyes have been opened to the truth and he cannot unsee it.

By framing the section on discipleship with the two different descriptions of healing, Mark illustrates the journey to faith – with all its missteps, setbacks, misunderstandings and finally submission. It is a story for all time. A journey into discipleship through ignorance and self-centredness to yearning, comprehension and finally to complete surrender.  


[1] It might not seem like much, but begging was a source of income, and presumably his home and family were in Jericho.

Just how blind are we?

October 23, 2021

Pentecost 22 – 2021
Mark 10:46-52
Marian Free

May I speak in the name of God, Earth-maker, Pain-bearer, Life-giver. Amen.

Over the past few weeks, I have found myself wondering what is going on in the Marcan community and why the author of this gospel has felt the need to be so repetitive in chapters 8 through 10 of his gospel. With any luck you haven’t noticed, but I feel as though I have been saying the same thing over and over for the past five weeks. In this time, Jesus has, according to our gospel readings, announced his death and resurrection on no less than three occasions and on each of these occasions the disciples have wilfully or foolishly chosen to misunderstand his teaching. Peter rebuked Jesus, the disciples competed among each other to determine who was the greatest and James and John asked to sit at Jesus’ right hand and his left.

It seems that it is impossible for the disciple to believe that the one whom they have chosen to follow will not be triumphant – whether against the power of Rome or the power of evil. Despite everything that Jesus says – that those who follow him must take up their cross, that those who want to save their life must lose it, that whoever wants to be first must be last of all and servant of all, and that the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve – the disciples seem to be blind to the implications of Jesus’ announcements and of the consequences of following one who will suffer and die.

Today’s gospel addresses this question of blindness. What appears on the surface to be a simple account of healing has, on closer examination, hidden depths. To fully understand the healing of Bartimaeus we must place it into its historical/cultural context as well as into its literary context.

Current scholarship believes that the gospel of Mark was written in about 70CE for a community who lived in rural Syria-Palestine. This being the case, the Marcan community would have recently been victims (or at least witnesses) of Vespasian’s brutal put down of the Northern revolt in 68CE. In the year 70 Jerusalem was razed to the ground, and the Temple – the centre of Jewish faith – destroyed. The impact of these events must have been profound. It is plausible that the community of faith were both confused and frightened. What sort of God would allow Jerusalem to be destroyed? Why did God not intervene and defeat the Romans instead of allowing them to destroy all that was holy?

Mark’s threefold repetition of Jesus’ announcement of his death makes sense against this background, as does the emphasis on servanthood and the instruction to take up one’s cross. In effect, Mark is reminding a community that is uncertain about their place in the world and anxious about their safety in the present and future that faith in a crucified Saviour turns everything upside down. It is not about triumphalism or success, but about submission and service. Following Jesus means being prepared to lose their lives in order to save them.

By the time Mark put pen to paper, Jesus had been dead for forty years and it is almost certain that any eyewitnesses to the events of his life and death were also dead. No doubt the community of faith had settled into some sort of comfortable existence – a comfort that has been shattered by recent events. It should come as no surprise to us that they needed a reminder of the origins of their faith and of the gruesome death that lay at its heart.

In literary terms, today’s gospel concludes a section of the gospel that began in chapter 8 with the healing of another blind man. The disciples’ blindness (or unwillingness to see what it means to follow Jesus) is framed accounts of blind men receiving their sight. Of significance is the difference between the two healing stories. In the first (8:22) the blind man does not see clearly after Jesus’ first attempt at healing. Initially he can see people, “but they look like trees, walking.” Jesus has to lay his hands on the man’s eyes for a second time before he can see clearly. In this morning’s account Jesus only has to say: “Your faith has made you well” for the man’s sight to be completely restored.

It would appear that Mark has structured his account of Jesus is such a way that he is able to confront the blindness and the misunderstanding of the community for whom he is writing. Their blindness is represented by their competitiveness, their striving for recognition or for positions of power and above all, by their failure to understand that following Jesus means both service and suffering. Forty years after Jesus’ death it seems that they need to be reminded of what it means to follow a crucified Saviour.

At the beginning of this section of the gospel Mark portrays the understanding of the disciples is as cloudy and indistinct as that of the blind man. The immediate healing of Bartimaeus at the conclusion of the segment appears to signify that Jesus has told the disciples all that they need to know and that the disciples should now be clear both about Jesus’ mission and about the roles that they must assume as his followers. In other words, over the course of this period of teaching Jesus has opened the eyes of the disciples to the reality of discipleship.

In what are challenging and confronting circumstances, the author of Mark’s gospel seems to be reminding his community that suffering, not victory, lies at the heart of their faith and that discipleship means following in the footsteps of Jesus, even to the point of death.

If I am right and Mark is writing to a specific group of people at a specific time in history, what does his gospel have to say to those of us who are so far removed from that time and place?

Our challenge is not that we are experiencing persecution and destruction, but rather that we comfortable and complacent.

I find myself wondering – How would the author of Mark speak to our situation? What misconceptions do we hold that he would have to address? What are the blind spots that he would feel that he had to call out?

Are our lives a witness to the fact that we follow one who put others first – to the extent that he gave his life for the world?

What would the author of Mark have to say to us – to me, to you?

Seeing only what we want to see

October 24, 2015

Pentecost 22

Mark 10:46-52

Marian Free

In the name of God who opens the eyes of those who are willing to see. Amen.

It is true that many of us, indeed from time to time – all of us – see only what we want to see. This is true in relation to so many things – individual and corporate. Parents sometimes are unable to see their children’s shortcomings. Spouses are often able to turn a blind eye to their partners’ misdemeanors – adultery, corruption, and even criminal behaviour. Whole populations want to believe that their governments will not mislead them and will do what it best for the nation as a whole – even in the face of information to the contrary. The gullible and not so gullible find themselves wanting to own products that advertisers tell them are absolutely essential to our well-being or our life-style – this despite the fact we know full well that we are being manipulated.

Sometimes this sort of blindness is so firmly entrenched that nothing short of a major catastrophe can shake us into opening our eyes to reality. Conversely, sometimes reality is so disturbing and hurtful, that blindness – however unreal – is preferable to seeing and accepting the truth.

In fact, on occasions the truth makes us so uncomfortable that we seek to silence or even to destroy those who expose it. John the Baptist lost his head because he dared to name Herod’s adultery for what it was. Those who saw through Hitler were sent to death camps. Nelson Mandela and others who identified the evils apartheid were jailed for decades. Journalist Steve Biko was tortured and killed by a government that needed to silence opposition.

The truth can be dangerous. It can be so disturbing and confronting that many prefer to ignore it finding it simpler remain in ignorance. There are many who would rather not acknowledge that governments can and do act immorally and dishonestly. They close their eyes to the truth and dismiss the critics by labeling them troublemakers or dissidents.

By and large we prefer the status quo. We don’t like our comfortable lives or strongly held ideals challenged or confronted. It is easier not to rock the boat, sometimes in the face of very strong evidence that the boat is corrupt or dangerously compromised.

One of the themes running through Mark’s gospel is that of a refusal or a failure to see. Members of the religious establishment suffer from a form of blindness that leads them to dismiss this unknown, uncomfortable person from Galilee. They do not like this man who challenges what they do and what they represent. It is impossible for them to conceive that such an unlikely person might be the one promised by God and because they do not understand him, they try to silence Jesus by plotting to kill him. Even the disciples are blinded to the reality of who and what Jesus is. They simply cannot accept that Jesus will be rejected, will suffer and will die. They can only envisage a future in which Jesus will triumph. When Jesus predicts his suffering and humiliation, his disciples retreat to what they think they know. They try to silence Jesus by rebuking him or by changing the subject to something that makes them feel more comfortable.

Neither group is able to see beyond their expectations or prejudices. Neither the disciples nor the authorities can accept the apparent contradiction – either that the Christ should suffer, or that such an ordinary person could be the one sent by God.

There are however, some who are able to recognise Jesus for who he is – the demons and those who are on the outside. The demons are able to identify Jesus because he challenges their authority. He presents a threat. Jesus is able to reduce their power to nothing which enables them to discern that he is a representative of good and therefore of God. On the other hand those who are on the outside of Jewish society have no preconceptions that might blind them to Jesus’ true nature. Such people have no idea how a Christ or Son of God should behave or should present himself. This allows them to see Jesus for who he is and not for who they think he should be. So it is that at the moment of Jesus’ death, when it appears that he has utterly failed, when all his followers have deserted him, when he has been publicly humiliated and shamed, it the centurion – a Roman, a gentile, an outsider who declares: “Truly this man was God’s Son” (15:39).

Bartimaeus is another outsider who, despite his blindness, instinctively knows who Jesus is. Sitting by the road he calls out not once, but twice: “Son of David, have mercy!” The crowds react by trying to silence him. What he is saying is reckless and dangerous – to identify Jesus as the Son of David is to invite trouble, to threaten tenuous peace that exists between the Hebrews and the Romans. At the same time it is disturbing that someone such as Bartimaeus identifies Jesus as the Son of David, despite the fact that Jesus bears no resemblance to a King like David.

Bartimaeus is undeterred. He speaks what he knows and is rewarded by Jesus’ response. Even though he is blind, his openness and clear-sightedness enables him to see what others cannot see.

It is easy to make the mistake of believing that we see clearly, that we know all there is to know about God. We can convince ourselves that what we have learnt in the past is sufficient for the present and for the future and we can allow our faith to be reduced to well-worn formulas, easily remembered doctrines and simple to follow rules. We can find it tempting to silence or ignore the voices that challenge our world-view or suggest that we may be wrong.

If Jesus showed us anything, it was this – that faith can and will take us out of our comfort zone, and in directions that we cannot imagine. Jesus’ own experience show us that he journey of faith can be perilous and dangerous, it can expose us to ridicule and misunderstanding and it can force us to see the world around us in new and different ways. Jesus didn’t promise us that following him would be easy, instead he told us that it would lead to the cross.

If we silence the voices that disturb or challenge us, we risk the spiritual blindness that led Jesus’ contemporaries to misunderstand, to reject and destroy him and we lose the opportunity to grow and develop and to come to a fuller understanding of ourselves, of others and ultimately of God.