Posts Tagged ‘Bartimaeus’

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.

Staying in the dark or stepping into the light

October 27, 2018

Pentecost 23 – 2018

Mark 10:46-52

Marian Free

In the name of God who refuses to be limited by the confines of the human imagination. Amen.

I have been extraordinarily fortunate in that I have been able to travel. Some time ago I was on a bus tour in northern Italy. As we drew near to the city state of San Marino the tour guide told us enthusiastically that our destination had fantastic views of the ocean. The reality for our group was very different. After we had checked in, my husband and I went for a walk to get a sense of our surroundings. The city streets zigzagged up the hill until we came to the city walls. As we were walking the cloud that had covered the sky during the day decided to settle in. As we returned to the hotel, the mist was so dense and the visibility was so low that it was difficult to discern shapes that were more than a metre in front of us. Just ahead of me my husband looked like a blurry shadow.

At the beginning of Jesus’ journey to Jerusalem he healed a blind man (8:22-26). The account is one of the more interesting of the healing narratives in that Jesus fails – at least at the first attempt. After Jesus put saliva on the man’s eyes and laid hands on him, he asked: “Can you see anything?” The man replied: “I can see people, but they look like trees walking.” Jesus had to lay his hands on the man a second time in order for his sight to be completely restored. Another interesting aspect of this account, (though it is consistent with Mark’s story telling), is that Jesus sends the man home but insists that he doesn’t go into Bethsaida. This is presumably so that he doesn’t spread the word of his healing.

The account of Bartimaeus that we have read today is quite different. Bartimaeus is named whereas the first man was not named and it is Bartimaeus, not his friends, who seeks out Jesus. Of further interest is that Bartimaeus knows who Jesus is. He recognises that Jesus is not just any healer – he is the Son of David, the one expected by the Jews. On this occasion, Jesus heals the man immediately.

Of course, the two accounts are interesting in and of themselves. We know Jesus was able to bring about healing, and these stories provide further evidence of this ability. It is intriguing then to ask why Mark would tell a story that indicated that Jesus was not perfect, that not every healing worked – at least not at the first attempt.

The answer to the puzzle lies in part in Mark’s story telling technique. The two accounts of Jesus’ healing a blind man are a literary device (intercalation or sandwiching) intended not just to report on Jesus’ activity but to reveal a deeper meaning or to emphasise the point that he is making.

Jesus’ journey to Jerusalem is framed by these two stories – that of a man who gradually receives his sight and that of a man who sees at once. In between the two accounts Mark includes the Transfiguration and the three predictions of Jesus’ suffering and death. On the way to Jerusalem, Jesus reveals himself and his future to the disciples and yet they remain confused as to who he is and what his purpose might be. Despite everything that Jesus does and teaches the disciples still do not understand that Jesus is very different from the Christ whom they had expected.

On each of the occasions that Jesus predicts his death, the reaction of the disciples demonstrates their complete lack of understanding. They argue about who is the greatest and they ask for seats at Jesus’ right and Jesus’ left. Peter draws from Jesus his strongest language: “Get behind me Satan”, Jesus says when Peter refuses to accept that Jesus will suffer. During the journey, we also see that the disciples are ineffectual. Jesus has given them the power to heal and yet they are unable to heal the boy with epilepsy,

For reasons unknown to us, the author of Mark reveals Jesus’ identity only gradually. The disciples are painted as foolish and capable of completely misconstruing Jesus’ character and purpose. One explanation for Mark’s secrecy is that the author of the gospel knows that the concept of a suffering Christ is so difficult, so outside anyone’s expectation, that he slowly introduces the idea. The three passion predictions and the disciples’ failure to understand provide the readers with the opportunity to learn from the disciples’ mistakes. By the time that, in Mark, the centurion declares of the crucified Jesus: “Truly this man was the Son of God” the readers have come to a place in which they can make that same affirmation. The suffering, dying Jesus is indeed the Christ sent by God.

Blindness comes in many forms. Those of us who have full use of our sight, may have blind spots in our understanding. Like the disciples we may be so formed by our past, by our family experience, by our education that we are unable to identity our prejudices, our narrow mindset or our limited horizons. We may be blind to the ways in which our views of God and of faith have been moulded. We may hold on to “truths” or to “doctrines” that have long since lost their meaning.

The blind men are healed, but the disciples – at this point in the journey – remain in darkness. What is the darkness that binds us? What are the hopes and expectations that hold us in their thrall? What are the images of God –Earth Maker, Pain Bearer, Life Giver – that we cannot let go?

Jesus longs to open our eyes to new and different possibilities, to new ways of seeing God and new ways of relating to the world.

We can allow ourselves to remain in darkness or we can trust that Jesus will take us where we need to go. We can hold on to outmoded ideas, or we can ask Jesus to open our eyes to new and different experiences. We can hold fast to what we have always believed or we can take a risk that God might be so much more than we could ever think or imagine.

We can remain in the dark or allow ourselves to be drawn into the light.

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.