October 24, 2021
Hope Lutheran Church
Rev. Mary Erickson
Mark 10:46-52
The One Who Hears You
Friends, may grace and peace be yours in abundance in the knowledge of God and Christ Jesus our Lord.
There is a deeper story behind every person we meet. It’s very easy for us to minimize others. We flatten them out and reduce them to a handy label. Labeling is part of our human nature. As we make sense of our surroundings, we categorize what we see. But in doing so, we reduce their full humanity. They become smaller in our mind.
Country singer Mark Wills sings a song called “Don’t Laugh at Me.” The song points out the ways we miss seeing the entire person when we practice labeling:
I’m a little boy with glasses, the one they call the geek
A little girl who never smiles ’cause I’ve got braces on my teeth
And I know how it feels to cry myself to sleep
I’m that kid on every playground who’s always chosen last
A single teenage mother tryin’ to overcome my past
You don’t have to be my friend, is it too much to ask?
Don’t laugh at me, don’t call me names
Don’t get your pleasure from my pain
’Cause in God’s eyes we’re all the same
Someday we’ll all have perfect wings
Don’t laugh at me
I’m the cripple on the corner you pass me on the street
And I wouldn’t be out here beggin’ if I had enough to eat
And don’t think I don’t notice that our eyes never meet
I lost my wife and little boy when someone crossed that yellow line
The day we laid ’em in the ground is the day I lost my mind
Right now I’m down to holdin’ this little cardboard sign
So don’t laugh at me, don’t call me names
Don’t get your pleasure from my pain
’Cause in God’s eyes we’re all the same
Someday we’ll all have perfect wings
Don’t laugh at me
Today we hear the story about a blind man who meets Jesus. But in telling us this story, Mark includes some very significant information. We know his name. This man is named Bartimaeus. And furthermore, we even know the name of Bartimaeus’ father. His father is called Timaeus.
Bartimaeus has no other alternative but to beg. His disability renders him unable to earn a living. The people of Jericho have grown accustomed to seeing Bartimaeus sitting along the road into town. He’s become a fixture to them. You might say they’ve grown blind to him.
But this day is different. The townspeople are very excited by the visit from Jesus of Nazareth. He’s passed through their city on his way to Jerusalem. It’s caused quite a stir. Bartimaeus hears the commotion. He finds out about Jesus. This is the healing rabbi. He’s cleansed lepers, restored the hearing of the deaf, healed the sick. He’s even raised the dead.
Bartimaeus knows this is his opportunity to regain his sight. He begins to call out to Jesus. “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!”
The crowds turn to see who’s causing all the commotion. They see it’s Bartimaeus. And here we see a disconnect. They could have been like the friends of the paralyzed man who chopped a hole in the roof to lower their friend before Jesus. These citizens of Jericho could have advocated for Bartimaeus. They could have said, “Jesus! Please help our friend Bartimaeus!” But they had long ago discarded Bartimaeus along the road to their hearts. They tell him to be quiet. They’ve lost the ability to see Bartimaeus as a whole person. He’s just the blind guy and they don’t want him bothering the VIP. They want him to be silent.
Who are the people relegated to the margins of our society? Who have we marginalized? In what ways have you been labeled and marginalized? We don’t like to look upon suffering and need. We don’t want to hear about pain. How do we silence pleas for help?
Lest we forget his humanity, Mark tells us the name of this blind man. This is Bartimaeus. He’s a full, multi-dimensional human being with feelings and opinions and hopes and disappointments. He’s fully a part of humanity. And he belongs. He has family, he’s part of the lineage of humankind. He’s the son of Timaeus. This is Bartimaeus, their neighbor, a man with a soul as precious as their own.
Knowing his name elevates him. He’s no longer relegated to the sidelines. Bartimaeus is part of the human fabric. He is a man, a son of Abraham. He’s a child of God.
The crowd wants Bartimaeus to be quiet. But he insists on his right to be heard, to be seen, to exist. Bartimaeus cries out even louder. “SON OF DAVID, HAVE MERCY ON ME!”
Jesus hears him. He hears because Jesus doesn’t diminish any one of us to a mere label. Jesus sees and hears us in our full humanity. He doesn’t minimize or simplify or devalue any of us. Jesus knows our every facet. He doesn’t dismiss or gloss over or trivialize any aspect of who you are. Jesus is the one who hears you. He sees you in your totality.
Jesus stops along the Jericho Road. He restores Bartimaeus’ sight. But I wonder, did he also restore the sight of this crowd to see the humanity of their neighbor? And how about us? How do our eyes and ears need to be opened in the name of Christ?
I conclude this sermon with the words to another song. This one is by Christian artist Brandon Heath, “Give Me Your Eyes.” May it be our closing prayer:
Give me Your eyes for just one second
Give me Your eyes so I can see
Everything that I keep missing
Give me Your love for humanity
Give me Your arms for the broken-hearted
The ones that are far beyond my reach
Give me Your heart for the ones forgotten
Give me Your eyes so I can see
