Pentecost 23, 2024
Jeremiah 31:7-9
Psalm 126
Hebrews 7:23-28
Mark 10:46-52
In the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Amen.
In the first lesson this week, from the prophet Jeremiah, we heard that God is going to bring back the people who have been exiled, “and among them the blind and the lame, those with child and those in labor, together; a great company, they shall return here.” The more I thought about this group of people, the more I could see what it is those people have in common. The blind, the lame, those in labor, they would slow us down, right? If we are racing back to our ancestral land, we’d probably prefer that those folks just kind of meet us there at some point when they can. I mean, a great multitude can only move as fast as the slowest members.
But what’s more interesting here is that those particular people, the blind, the lame, and those in labor all rely on the community to get them to a distant destination. If you can’t see, you need someone to guide you. If you can’t walk, you need someone to carry you. If you are in labor, you need someone to hold your hand while you scream obscenities at them. (Or so I’ve heard.) All these folks rely on the community, and God is not going to let them be left behind. Everyone comes home together. Everyone. God says, “With weeping they shall come, and with consolations I will lead them back.” And the vulnerable bring along what makes them vulnerable, because they are loved as they are, and God will protect them, through the community around them.
And gospel reading we just heard is also about community. But it’s about the transformation of the community. Bartimaeus, son of Timaeus, is sitting by the side of the road. A large crowd is walking with Jesus, and the blind man cries out to him. And what does the crowd do? Do they pick him up and carry him along? Do they tell Jesus that Bartimaus needs his help? No. Instead they sternly order him to keep quiet. Their instinct is to leave him behind, because they’re following Jesus.
But then . . . Jesus stands still, and he tells the crowd to bring the blind man to him. Interesting that Jesus doesn’t go to the man. Jesus doesn’t tell the man to come to him. No, Jesus tells the community to bring the man to him. The community turns to the man in need and tells him to take heart, because Jesus is calling him. And throwing off his cloak (which we’ll come back to in a minute), he gets up and goes to Jesus. And Jesus asks him, “What do you want me to do for you?” And here we have to stop for a moment.
I don’t know if you have any friends who are blind. But more than once I have asked a blind friend if they would want to have their sight back. The answers are mixed. Those of us who can see assume that blind people really want to be like us. But that’s not necessarily so. Even people who could once see—they know what it’s like—those people do not necessarily want to have their sight back. My brother—who is losing his sight—has told me he has like supernatural hearing now. There can be upsides to losing one or more of our senses. Point being, we want to be careful not to assume that everyone who is “different” wants to be like us, right?
And so look what Jesus does here. He doesn’t assume the man wants to be able to see. He asks the man himself: What do you want me to do for you? I find that both interesting and important. Jesus asks the man what he wants, without assuming he would want what we might want. And Bartimaeus says, “My teacher, let me see again.” Jesus tells him his faith has made him well, and then Bartimaeus follows Jesus on the way. He becomes part of the community. The same community that originally sternly told him to be quiet, and then tells him Jesus is calling him, and now walks together with this man. The community has also changed because Jesus has brought healing to the one they wanted to leave behind.
Okay, great story. But back to the man’s cloak. As we heard, the crowd told the man that Jesus was calling, and “throwing off his cloak, he sprang up and came to Jesus.” Consider for a moment Bartimaeus’ position in life. He is blind and begging by the roadside. He has a cloak, and maybe a bowl to collect the alms he might receive. That cloak is very likely the one possession this man has. The one thing of any monetary value in his life is this cloak. And hearing that Jesus is calling, he throws off his cloak, springs to his feet, and comes to Jesus.
If you think back to a couple weeks ago, we heard about a rich man who came to Jesus and asked what he must do to inherit eternal life. He was told he’d have to leave everything behind, and the rich man went away sad. What we saw in that case was someone who was trying to save himself. He wanted to learn how to do it on his own. But the blind man Bartimaeus, and also the people from the first reading—the blind, the lame, and those in labor—they all know that they cannot save themselves. They must rely on God; they must rely on the community. And God and the community are there for them, in both cases. Carrying them when they cannot carry themselves.
So . . . this week we are kicking off our annual stewardship campaign. I was asked to preach a sermon about stewardship, and I agreed. And then I read these lessons and thought, “Uh oh.” But the more I thought about it, the more of a connection I saw. Because, in a way, the blind man’s cloak is his offering. It represents what he is willing to give up in gratefulness to follow Jesus. Unlike the rich man two weeks ago, Bartimaeus leaves behind literally everything in order to follow Jesus. It’s like the most extreme example of sacrificial giving.
Of course, he could have brought his cloak with him to Jesus. But he leaves the cloak behind and brings his blindness with him. In his excitement to be healed, his possessions become secondary. And he ends up as part of the community, and together they follow Jesus.
Now I know the connection between Bartimaeus and stewardship is not a straight line for us. But the idea of holding our possessions lightly is there. There is a broad continuum between the rich man who kept his possessions and went away sad, and the blind man who leaps up and leaves everything behind. None of us is at either of those extremes.
But ever since the start of the pandemic in 2020, I think we have all learned to hold our possessions just a little more lightly. We’ve found ourselves focusing on our health, and our families, and our friends. Money and things became a little less important when we found ourselves staring death in the face for months and months on end.
And over my time here in Massillon, I’ve watched the people of St. Tim’s unwavering generosity with your contributions of clothes and food and toys, in seeing how you volunteered countless hours working in the garden, cleaning the building, singing in the choir, teaching our children, providing food for our neighbors, and so much more. In seeing you give your time, talent, and treasure, I know that we all continue to move a little closer to Bartimaeus and a little farther away from the rich man who went away sad.
The theme of our stewardship campaign this year is Walk in Love. You’ll recognize that as part of the offertory sentence, which you’ll hear in just a few minutes. Walk in love, as Christ first loved us.
As we begin our stewardship campaign this year, I encourage all of us to consider what it is we are willing to part with in order to see the ministry of Jesus grow in this place. Maybe it’s just a little. Maybe it is significant. And both of those are okay, because we are a community together. We carry one another all the time. But no matter what we might pledge, Jesus is calling and welcoming each one of us. To heal us from whatever holds us back from following him on the way. To join together in this community to share the good news to others that they too should take heart, because just like Bartimaeus, Jesus is calling for them too.
When Jesus asks us, “What do you want me to do for you,” let’s give some thought to what our answer might be. Because God can do anything; we just need the courage to imagine what it is we want to do together. God is with us, and God will always be with us. And together we walk in love, as Christ loved us, and gave himself for us, an offering and a sacrifice to God.
Amen.
No comments:
Post a Comment