I got a new pair of glasses this week. Not my everyday glasses. These are ones that are made so I can see what's on my computer screen without ending up with a cricked neck. They're fantastic. They make the characters on the screen look perfectly in focus. They just have one drawback. If I forget to change them over when I leave the office I can't see anything clearly unless it's right in front of me. It's not that I'm totally blind. It's just that I can't see clearly.
Of course being unable to see things clearly doesn't just apply to physical sight, does it? There's an even worse affliction of sight that some people suffer from. That's the sort of blurred vision that comes from prejudice or from unthinking acceptance of a particular set of presuppositions or perhaps from listening to too much talk back radio. For example it's the sort of blindness that might prevent us from understanding the various issues in the debate over asylum seekers. It's the sort of blindness that leads some people to suggest that the Churches have no right to speak out about social issues.
Well, both of these sorts of blindness appear in Mark chapter 10. There's physical blindness in the man, Bartimaeus, mixed with clear spiritual sight, and there's spiritual blindness on the part of the disciples and others we meet in this passage.
Let's look at the passage. (Mark 10:32-52) They're on their way up to Jerusalem, with Jesus leading the way. You can almost imagine Jesus striding on ahead, with the disciples a pace or two behind, and the other followers almost hanging back in fear. We're told that the disciples were amazed and those who followed were afraid. The disciples may have been wondering before this where he was going and now it's becoming clear. He's heading for Jerusalem. In fact this is the first mention in Mark of Jerusalem as his destination. So they're amazed. Why would he want to go to Jerusalem when he knows that's the centre of opposition to his mission? Obviously the disciples' sense of unease is transmitted to the crowd, because they're becoming afraid. You can imagine them not just hanging back, but perhaps dropping off, their ranks thinning as each step took them a little closer to the dangers of Jerusalem. It's all very well to be a fan but when the star goes somewhere dangerous the fans are often happy to watch from a safe distance.
But Jesus isn't worried by what his followers think. He knows what he's doing, so he takes his disciples aside once more and explains to them as clearly as he can what's going to happen. “Yes,” he says, “33We're going to Jerusalem, and the Son of Man will be handed over to the chief priests and the scribes, and they will condemn him to death; then they will hand him over to the Gentiles; 34they will mock him, and spit upon him, and flog him, and kill him; and after three days he will rise again.” If anything is going to surprise them, it shouldn't be his going to Jerusalem. Rather it's that the Son of Man should be betrayed by the religious leaders of the nation; that they should hand him over to Gentiles to be tortured and killed.
Here's the first example of blindness in the passage. The religious leaders are blind to who Jesus is. They should be able to see that he's the one predicted by the Old Testament prophets. Instead they've rejected him. Their blindness is compounded by the fact that they'll hand him over to the Gentiles, to whom also he's been sent. Listen to what Isaiah 49 says of the Messiah, the Servant of the Lord: (Is 49:5-6) “And now the LORD says-- he who formed me in the womb to be his servant to bring Jacob back to him and gather Israel to himself, for I am honored in the eyes of the LORD and my God has been my strength -- 6he says: "It is too small a thing for you to be my servant to restore the tribes of Jacob and bring back those of Israel I have kept. I will also make you a light for the Gentiles, that you may bring my salvation to the ends of the earth.” Here was the one who was sent to bring both the people of Israel and those of the Gentile nations back to God, being handed over to death at the hands of those very Gentiles.
But that of course was part of God's plan, wasn't it? Again, Is 53 speaks of the Servant of the Lord being despised and rejected, smitten, wounded, all for a good reason: to bring us peace and healing. “We all, like sheep, have gone astray, each of us has turned to his own way; and the Lord has laid on him the iniquity of us all.”
Now what do you think? Would you have expected the disciples to be getting it by now? Jesus can't make it much clearer can he? But their prejudices or their presuppositions about him are pretty strong, and they just don't seem to be able to get their minds around the concept of him suffering a death like crucifixion.
That comes out fairly clearly in the next section (v35). They're going along the road and James and John decide to ask Jesus for a favour. Now this isn't so long after a previous incident when they were discussing who was the greatest among them. This time, though, they decide to take their chances on the understanding that maybe they're his favourites. So they ask him whether, when he's glorified, after all this is over and he takes his rightful place in God's Kingdom, they can sit at either side of him.
Now think about this for a moment. Jesus has just finished talking about his imminent arrest and execution and they're asking him about taking up the places of honour in his throne room. Now in one sense maybe it shows great faith in him. Maybe they've seen through his talk of death and resurrection to what lies beyond the grave. But at the same time, they seem to have glossed over the realities of the cross a bit too glibly. They almost seem to be saying, “It doesn't matter how he gets there, as long as we can benefit from it.”
It's very easy, isn't it, to overlook the sacrifices of others? To say that we can't feel a thing, as they're suffering on our behalf. That's as great a temptation for us, as we think about Jesus' death, as it was for the disciples. You see, our remembrance of Jesus sacrifice is wrapped up in such sanitised packages isn't it? We celebrate the communion with nice clean bread and pleasant tasting wine or grape juice. There's a natural rejoicing at times like Easter and Christmas. We tend to overlook the true nature of the incarnation. We overlook the fact that Jesus swapped the glory of being one with God for a smelly stable. That he willingly suffered the indignity of appearing in the form of a baby and growing as a little child with no rights in a poor village in an oppressed nation. The images we cling to are of a warm, friendly, probably well-lit stable, a beautiful baby, an innocent mother, deserving shepherds, wise men from the east. It's all so sanitised isn't it? Yet the reality was far from that sort of image. Jesus came as a nobody. He was rejected and despised by anyone of note. He suffered the most painful and undignified death you can imagine.
But it's much easier to think about the good things, isn't it, the way James and John did, rather than the reality of how those good things were achieved?
Notice though, that Jesus doesn't rebuff them completely. Rather he points them to the cost of discipleship. Although they may not have understood what he meant at this point, I'm sure they did later, after the resurrection, as they considered what it would mean to continue as his followers. At this stage they may have heard his mention of the cup as a reference to a cup-bearer, a position of honour. They may have thought of baptism as something like John's baptism: that is, a token or symbol of God's renewal of his people before the coming of the Kingdom. But the reality was far from it. It meant suffering and death. And was it just James and John that Jesus was talking to at this stage or was it all disciples? There's certainly a sense in which it's true for all disciples isn't there? All disciples are called to take up their cross and follow Jesus. We're all called to be baptised with Jesus' baptism; that is, a baptism of fire, of rejection by the world.
So the question for us is the same as it was for them. Are we ready to suffer and die for what we believe? Do we value our closeness to Christ so much that we're willing to stand at his right and left hands as he's tortured and put to death? Or are we interested only in the glory of being with the conquering King in his kingdom? What Jesus is saying is you can't have one without the other, but, the one makes the other worth going through.
He finishes by reminding them, once again, that the standards of the Kingdom are opposed to those of the world. Whereas in the world we expect those in authority to wield that authority, to enjoy the status of their position, in the Kingdom of God, those who are great are the ones who serve others. The first are the ones who act as slaves of the rest. So much so in fact that even the Son of Man, that is, the Messiah, came not to be served but to serve, and give up his life as a ransom for many. Far from valuing himself as indispensable because of his position, the way others would, he gave himself up to death so others could be brought back into the Kingdom. Are you prepared to give up your life, that is, your rights, your comfort, your familiar church environment, in order to make it possible for others to be brought into the Kingdom? That's what it might mean to be a servant or a slave of all.
Well, they've no sooner finished this conversation, than they come to Jericho. They're just passing through and on their way out of the city a blind man, Bartimaeus, hears the commotion and asks who it is. Immediately he begins to shout out “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!” and he won't be silenced. By contrast with the disciples, here is a man who though physically blind is spiritually aware. He recognises Jesus, not just as a healer, but as the Son of David. Perhaps he remembers that the prophecies of the coming Messiah included him healing the blind. Anyway he cries out until Jesus hears him and calls him over. With that, Bartimaeus throws off his cloak, jumps to his feet and comes to Jesus. You can almost sense him running with his stick tapping the ground as fast as he can; quite a contrast in fact to the image of the disciples earlier in the passage, dawdling behind Jesus as he strides towards Jerusalem.
Jesus asks him what he would like him to do for him. It's the same question, notice, that Jesus has just asked James and John, back in v36. But this man's request is different. He wants to see. He isn't worried about future glory; all he wants is to be restored to full health. So Jesus says “Go, your faith has healed you.” His recognition of Jesus, his acknowledgement of his authority as the Son of David, that is, the Messiah, his trust in his ability to heal, is all that's required of him. But he doesn't do exactly what Jesus says. He doesn't go. Rather, he follows Jesus along the road, the road, remember that leads to Jerusalem and death.
It's significant, isn't it, that immediately following Jesus' discussion with his disciples about the cost of discipleship, we come across this man, Bartimaeus, who gladly becomes a follower of Jesus, because of what he's received from Jesus.
I guess there are two motivations for following Christ, and we find both in this passage. One is gratitude for what Jesus has done for us, that leads us to do great things for him, and the other is the knowledge of what he's prepared for those who persevere to the end. This should be an equally strong motivation and I think, in fact, if you look at the teachings of Scripture, this is the motivation most often presented. You see, it's as we ponder the results of the baptism with which Jesus was baptised that we realise that the suffering involved in entering into that baptism is worth it. The glory that Jesus is now enjoying at his Father's right hand is promised to us as well, as we follow the same path as him, the path of a servant.
But there's a warning in this as well. If we try to be great in some other way than by becoming a servant, we'll lose whatever greatness we achieve. It's what we saw at the end of the passage last week. Only by being a servant, by becoming a slave of all, will we achieve greatness in God's Kingdom. We all know that faith in Jesus alone saves us, but as with Bartimaeus, the result of that salvation is a life of following Jesus along the road to the cross. And beyond the cross is a great reward stored up in heaven for those who love God.
So let's have our eyes open to the realities of being a disciple of Christ; to the possibility that we might have to suffer loss if we're Jesus' followers. And let's work at being servants, true followers of Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy set before him endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God.
