Blind Bartimaeus Receives His SightThen they came to Jericho. As Jesus and his disciples, together with a large crowd, were leaving the city, a blind man, Bartimaeus (which means “son of Timaeus”), was sitting by the roadside begging. When he heard that it was Jesus of Nazareth, he began to shout, “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!”Many rebuked him and told him to be quiet, but he shouted all the more, “Son of David, have mercy on me!”Jesus stopped and said, “Call him.”So they called to the blind man, “Cheer up! On your feet! He’s calling you.” Throwing his cloak aside, he jumped to his feet and came to Jesus.“What do you want me to do for you?” Jesus asked him.The blind man said, “Rabbi, I want to see.”“Go,” said Jesus, “your faith has healed you.” Immediately he received his sight and followed Jesus along the road.
For me, this passage holds both the power to encourage and to convict. At first, the story is inspiring and heart-warming; the sheer joy, passion, and determination of this marginalized man in such difficult circumstances is infectious. Even better is that Jesus actually listens to him and brings him forward to speak with him face-to-face. No doubt this was a radical move in a time when the blind and disabled were seen as defiled, disgraced, and cursed by God, not to be interacted with. It always encourages me a great deal to read of incidences of Jesus' radical compassion and consideration of others, stopping a busy crowd just to point out the needs of one small person who was an outcast to everyone else.
These sorts of events must have really pissed the disciples off, fixated as they were on running things properly, moving along with the schedule, and being practical. Remember how they wouldn't even let people bring their children to see Jesus? These interactions must have also shocked Jesus' fellow citizens who were so used to a strict hierarchy dictating who could talk to whom. But Jesus always took the time to have a one-on-one interaction with hurting people who were desperate for his healing. I think here especially of the woman who had been bleeding for years who touched Jesus' cloak. He could have just been satisfied with healing them from afar and taking less trouble to go and interact with them - after all, there are incidences of Jesus healing people remotely, like the centurion's daughter - but I think he wanted to dignify these people in the eyes of their peers.
This is a strong call to us as Christians to love and live alongside the outcasts of our own communities rather than being the ones who shun them and tell our children to stay away. We should make it our work to give people dignity by talking with them, asking about their lives and stories, listening to their hurts and dreams. Taking time to be there for the people God has placed in our lives because our most important ministry is to them. The founder of To Write Love on Her Arms, Jamie Tworkowski, has some great words to say on that subject.
But regarding the conviction this passage brought, it made me look at myself: do I have this kind of faith in God, this enthusiasm for his healing? I noticed that Jesus often speaks of faith when he heals people, praising their faith or reprimanding them for a lack of it. I have given up faith in a lot of things over the years as I've seen countless dreams deferred (or even crushed) and hopes go unfulfilled. I used to hold a strong belief that these things happened for a reason and God was closing the door to open others (as the unbearable cliche goes), but as time went on and more and more doors closed without anything opening, I began to question a lot of that belief and lose faith in God's faithfulness. I've fallen into a mindset that I will doubt God's provision, almost in an effort to get him to pity me so he will give me what I hope for. Maybe it's time I instead asked for faith to believe in God's ability to provide, though it might at times be in ways different from what I had planned, instead.
No comments:
Post a Comment