Bartimaeus' Story: October 28, 2018

From time to time I try something different.  This was one of those times. 

Year B, 23 Pentecost                                                           Mark 10:46-52            

                                                                                             

            My name is Bartimaeus.  I am the son of Timaeus.  I hear many things, some things I probably shouldn’t hear, but many things I should.  Lately I have been listening even more closely.  There has been a lot of talk about a man named Jesus.  It’s not all good.  Some people say he is a rabble rouser, that he is going to try to overthrow the Roman government or even or try to take power from the Pharisees and scribes.  That is what the loud and important people say.  I cannot see them, but I can tell they are important by their voices, the way they talk to me and other people.  These are the same people who only give me money on certain days, and when other people are around to see them.  The important people don’t like him, but I don’t like the important people very much either.

            It’s the other people….the people who give to me not out of obligation, but compassion, those are the ones I listen to.  There is one woman who will sit with me and pray sometimes.  She told me about Jesus.  She said that he talks about love and that he cares for people like me, the people no one else seems to see. They say I am blind, but sometimes I wonder, if maybe it’s the seeing people who are more blind than I.   My friend said that Jesus even performs miracles.  She has never seen it, but she has heard the stories.  There was one time when he fed thousands with just a few loaves of bread and fish.  She whispered to me…as though saying it out loud would give me too much hope, that he healed a blind man.   I told her there were all kinds of people who claimed to perform miracles, but even I had to agree that this Jesus man sounded different.

            After hearing stories from my kind friend, I started asking anyone who I encountered--- about this man.  There were different stories, but there were a few things that tied the stories together. He was kind to the people who needed kindness and tough on those who thought they didn’t need him or were better than others.  He helped the people no one else would help, even the sinners.

            It had been awhile since I prayed, but I began to pray to God that I could meet Jesus, at least once before I died.  One day my prayer was answered.  I was sitting in my regular place along the road, and the woman with the soft voice and gentle manner knelt beside me.  “He’s coming,” she said. “They say he is headed to Jerusalem and that there will be trouble there.”  I did not have to ask who.   I knew.  I could hear a crowd approaching.  I could smell their sweat as they came closer to me.  I could taste the dust that their feet kicked up.   I had one chance.   What could I possibly say to get his attention?  Surely, he had people trying to get his attention all the time.  What could I, a blind beggar--say to him?

            “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me.”  I am not sure where that came from.  It just came.  I needed help.  It wasn’t just my eyes.  I was wounded physically, emotionally and spiritually.  I was desperate for something to believe in. Even if he could not cure me, I knew he could help me.  I needed mercy.  The people around me started telling me to be quiet.  But I couldn’t.  When I am quiet, people ignore me. I even felt the hand of my kind friend touch my sleeve, as if she was trying to warn me.  Their words and warnings meant nothing to me.  I had been waiting for this man.  It seemed like I had been waiting for him my whole life.  “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me.”  I yelled until my throat was raw.

            Suddenly, the crowd around me grew quiet.  I could feel the travelers stop in front of me.  Then I heard him (Jesus) tell the crowd to call me.  The voices that had tried to silence me now were encouraging me, and telling me I had nothing to fear.  I did not need their encouragement.  Once I heard his voice, I leapt to my feet and threw off my heavy cloak, which was my protection from the world.  For a moment I worried what would happen if I could not find my cloak again.   It was the only one I had.  But it did not matter. He was here and he had called me. 

            He asked me….me…what I wanted him to do for me.  No one had ever asked me that before.  No one cared what I wanted.  I said, “My teacher, let me see again.”  It’s not just that I wanted to see…I wanted to see him.  I thought, if I could see this man –If I could see him, even for a moment, I would be whole. Then Jesus told me the last thing I ever expected, “Go; your faith has made you well.”  My faith.  He was able to see something in me that I could not see, my faith, the faith I thought I had lost—that was what let me see again. 

            Suddenly the darkness that had been my sole companion was swept away and there was his face.  His eyes.  Compassion, love, mercy, salvation.  I could see it all in his eyes.  I knew then that he was more than a miracle worker.  He was more than a teacher or a rabble rouser. He was holy and I promised myself that I would never lose sight of him again.   He did not say another word. He turned and continued on the road to Jerusalem, the place he would die.  He walked and I followed. I would follow him wherever he went.   

What We Lack: Oct. 14, 2018

Year B, Pentecost 20                                            

Mark 10:17-31                                                          

This Gospel reading is a very hard text to read and it is an perilous text to preach.  I do not feel that I can preach this text with integrity as I have not done what Jesus asks of the rich man in this story.  I was called to the priesthood and I certainly gave some things up as a result, but I didn’t give up most things.  In our Gospel, Jesus was approached by a man asking him what he needed to do to inherit eternal life.  Jesus responded in the expected way by reciting a few of the commandments.  The man responded that he had been keeping all these commandments from his youth.  That is impressive. All of them. From his youth. One would have expected a pat on the back from Jesus, or maybe a high five. Yet, there were no encouraging words from Jesus in response.

            The text does say that Jesus looked at him and loved him.  He probably even saw something special in him as he asked the man to come and follow him.  That is what he said to his disciples when he called them. Who knows, this man could have been number 13.  But as with the other disciples, the call did not come without some sacrifice.  He said, “You lack one thing, go, sell what you own, and give money to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; then come, follow me.”  

You lack one thing….it sounds like it should not be a big thing, right?  He had followed all the commandments...since his youth.  Now Jesus was asking him to sell all he had and give it to the poor.  He could not do it.  He walked away.  He was the one person in the Gospel who Jesus called, but refused to follow.  Why? Because he had many possessions.  He could not part with them, even if it meant having treasure in heaven, even if it meant eternal life. 

            If you were to read the stories of Jesus calling the 12 disciples, you will see that Jesus did not ask them to sell everything.  All he did was ask them to follow him.  In each of those stories, we are told that they dropped their nets, left everything and followed him.  Was it easier for them because they did not have much money or possessions? Probably not--because when the text says that they left everything, it wasn’t just about leaving their possessions, it was about leaving their home and their families.  I like to think that they didn’t assume it would be a permanent departure, because it’s hard to imagine Jesus wanting people to leave their family.  But that’s just what I like to assume because it’s easier and a lot more palatable. 

            There are not a lot of people who could preach this text with integrity.  I don’t actually know anyone who gave everything up to follow Jesus.  I know of people.  I’ve heard of them, but they are few and far between.  So what are we everyday Christians to make of this difficult, seemingly impossible demand of Jesus?  I first looked at the readings a couple weeks ago, knowing this would be Celebration Sunday, which is when we ask people to make a commitment to the church in the form of a pledge.  Perfect I thought. This is all about giving money away and how important it is to give money to places like the church, that helps those who are poor---either figuratively helping the poor in Spirit, or literally helping the hungry and needy.  Some people on the vestry (I will not name any names) keep telling me I need to preach more about money and stewardship.  It’s not my strength.  But I thought, well this will give me the perfect opportunity.  How can I preach this text and not talk about money? 

            Alas, this text is a little more complicated.  And I am not just saying that because I don’t like talking about money.  Jesus isn’t telling this man he needs to give because there are needy people and non-profits doing good work. Nope.  He is telling this man what he needs to do to be a good disciple.  Now, normally when we talk about stewardship, we talk about the abundance of what God has given us and the many way that we can return those gifts to God.  Yet in this passage, Jesus doesn’t say, “Look, you have so much, how about returning some of it?”  He doesn’t lead with abundance or generosity.  He says, “You lack one thing…” He didn’t remind the man what he had, he told him what he was lacking.   

            When I thought about people who had given a great deal up to follow Jesus, I thought of Pope Francis.  I looked to see if I could find anything he had written about this passage.  I thought, surely, if someone could preach authentically on this text, it would be him.  I could only find one paragraph that came from one of his weekly addresses.  He focused on a part that I had never considered.  When Jesus reminded the man of the commandments, the man responded, “I have kept all these from my youth…” My youth. Pope Francis wrote that many of us never mature spiritually past our youth.  It’s as if we stop growing spiritually at the age of 18.  He said that one of the ways that we mature spiritually is when we begin to accept our own limits, when we become aware of what is truly missing from our lives. We can all probably name all the physical things we need.  We need a better job, a nicer home, more vacation time, better grades, better relationships with our family and friends.  But how many of truly know what we are lacking spiritually.

            Consider this man’s original question.  “What must I do to inherit eternal life?”  He wanted to know what he could do.  He used the word inherit, because that was what his focus was in life.  Therefore, Jesus could immediately see what he was missing, what he was lacking.  He needed to let go to the things he acquired.  He had let his possessions possess him. 

Now I could turn it around and say, “Therefore, we all need to figure out what we are missing, what we need to be closer to God.” That would be a fair interpretation of this text.  But I think it also lets us off the hook too easily.  Because my guess is that for a lot of us, it is our possessions---those things that we worked so hard to earn that create barriers in our relationship with God and other people.  What Jesus reminds us in this reading and other places in scripture is that none of what we have is ours.  We didn’t earn it. It was given to us.   We certainly can’t take it with us from this life to the next.  The more easily we can let go of those physical things, the freer we will be. 

            Yes, consider what you lack in your relationship to God.  Ask God what you need to be a better disciple.  God’s probably not going to tell you to give everything away and leave family and friends.  However, there is a good chance God will tell you something that will be hard, something you might now want to do. Then, I pray that you will consider pledging to the church, pledging not just financially, but pledging your time.  There are few things in life more precious than time.  If God is giving us eternal life, then surely we can give God some of our time in this life.  And while we may lack something in terms of our relationship with God, every one of us has an abundance of gifts, some of which we don’t even know we possess because other things keep distracting us.  Therefore, let’s not perceive this call from Jesus to give things up as a deprivation.  Instead, let us see it as an invitation to live more fully and abundantly into the life God has called us.