Sunday, October 25, 2009

The Text of my sermon from Sunday, October 25th

The 30th Sunday in Ordinary Time; October 25, 2009
Park Avenue Presbyterian Church; Des Moines, Iowa
Texts: Job 42: 1-6, 10-17
Psalm
Hebrews
Mark 10: 46-52 *


“Jesus, May I”

--} I can’t come to today’s gospel reading without “seeing”—that as I am busy preparing for my pilgrimage to the Holy Land (including time to be spent in Jerusalem), that today’s lesson has Jesus smack dab in the middle of his pilgrimage to Jerusalem, too. Yet aside from this obvious entangled excitement about my own journey, I can’t help but believe that Mark is inviting his readers to each consider our own FAITH journeys in light of what happens to the blind man, Bartimaeus.

Today’s verses are the “final verses” before Jesus “pilgrimages” to Jerusalem for the last time. In a way, this is “the end” of the road—were it not for the story of his entry into Jerusalem and the long walk of suffering through the streets to Golgotha. Once again, Mark’s disciples seem to have missed Jesus’ point; we’ve previously found them squabbling over “who is the greatest,” and just now James and John have been seen arm-wrestling for the place or position of privilege in the Kingdom. But to put it in perspective, if you’re on your way to be crucified, does it really matter who’s on the right or the left?

There are three things that are remarkably notable for me about Mark’s story. The first noteworthy markings are the responses Bartimaeus makes in hearing that it was “Jesus of Nazareth” passing by, and then to Jesus “calling.” When he hears it’s Jesus, Bartimaeus begins shouting in messianic language, “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!” It’s not surprising that this might be what Bartimaeus believes, but that he shares it quite openly. This isn’t just “faith” language, it’s “political” language; and the Scribes and Pharisees who are out to get Jesus, would be out to get this poor fellow now, too. Perhaps, this is an unwise public gesture, since even if Jesus is the “Son of David” who can somehow overcome the charges or consequences of blasphemy, the odds are that such an admission publically gets both Jesus and Bartimaeus in hot water for it—if not killed.
But then, when Jesus calls Bartimaeus to come to him, Bartimaeus responds by “throwing off his cloak, springing up, and going straight to Jesus.” For all intents and purposes, this man’s “cloak” was his life; it would have identified him as the blind beggar on the side of the road, “in need.” It was how he would have “made a living,” hoping for alms from the passers-by on their way to celebrate Passover festivities in Jerusalem. His gesture of “throwing off his OLD life,” seems significant—as if he recognized already that he was being “called” to new living and that his old clothes were no longer going to be useable or necessary. It’s as if Jesus’ “call” offers a kind of “extreme makeover”!

The second noteworthy marking is that Bartimaeus abandons his old life, and takes up the “way” with Jesus. Having the chance to ask Jesus to “restore his sight,” Bartimaeus hears Jesus’ response: “go, your faith has made you [whole again.]” And one might imagine Bartimaeus going back home to tell his family and friends, or going to Temple to see the priests and receive the testimony that he can be restored to community. Jesus says, “go,” and Bartimaeus seemingly doesn’t—he follows. Having regained his sight, he chooses to follow Jesus on the “way.” The Greek word is oJdov"—meaning oddly enough, “a journey.” It refers more directly to a “way” as in a “highway” or a “traveled road,” or a “traveler’s way” or a “way of traveling.” And in Mark’s gospel, it’s often suggested that the “way” is the way of life Jesus teaches us in the gospel encounters with him, “the way” that is first adopted in the lifestyle of the early Church’s believers. For example, many early Christian communities were known as people of “the way”—a term that is being reclaimed in our own day and age. But I’m thinking too, that another way for understanding it isn’t the way we traditionally think of it, as in Bartimaeus following Jesus to Jerusalem “along the way” or even Bartimaeus “following Jesus” as the “way.” I’m quite certain these days that Bartimaeus’ epiphany is that Jesus is offering to him the life of the kingdom of God—“the way.” So Bartimaeus leaps up, tosses aside the cloak of his former self, and begins a new journey as part and parcel of God’s kingdom on earth.

The third noteworthy marking is that like there’s a “calling” or “invitation” for Bartimaeus to take up a new kind of living, I believe Mark’s intention is similar for first-century believers. In the face of well-known persecution, violence against believers, and destruction, the Christian community to whom Mark is writing would surely be encouraged to be brave like Bartimaeus; to boldly “cast off” their former lives and selves in the possibility or opportunity of living God’s Kingdom life. And if there’s a calling or inviting of Bartimaeus that’s meant to be an invitation for first-century believers in a tough spot at a tough time in their lives and the life of the world… what do you suppose the chances are that we should see Bartimaeus not only as a model for those folks in the early church, but for our own selves in our own church today?

So here’s where I’ve come to believe the rubber hits the road for us. Bartimaeus KNOWS—or “SEES”—that when Jesus passes by that the “way” or the Kingdom of God has come near. Bartimaeus doesn’t spend a lot of time contemplating it; he simply RESPONDS TO IT. And it’s not just a welcoming of Jesus, or an asking of Jesus to heal him; Bartimaeus considers the messianic visit an open invitation to join the “way of God in the world,” and in throwing off his cloak we “SEE” him embracing this new journey wholeheartedly—even if it leads to Jerusalem and even if the “risk” is that those who believe and act and follow Jesus and his ministry get crucified (or worse!).
We may not live in a time where we face persecutions and imminent death because we believe in Jesus, or even because we act like Jesus. But we do recognize that Jesus doesn’t represent total popularity—loving one’s neighbor as oneself comes at a cost, for example. The invitation of Jesus to the Kingdom life, though, is to be brave in spite of those risks; to believe in spite of those who don’t; to seek to live in the way of Jesus not just for the sake of ourselves, but for the sake of so many others.
I believe Mark is inviting us to consider “the way of Jesus” as the “way of the Kingdom of God in the world;” and that like Blind Bartimaeus, we’re invited to jump up, throw off the rags of our old life, and bravely live into a new “way” of God’s being in the world. If you recall, when Mark tells us about Jesus calling the first disciples, the promise is that Jesus will make them to be “fishers.” It’s an act that redefines their living and invites them completely into a new orientation to live—even as some of them were already fishermen.
“The way” of Jesus is like a journey. We’re invited to be prepared for it when it arrives. We’re invited to “put on new clothes” in anticipation. We’re invited to be literally moved to a new way of relating to one another, our families and friends. We’re invited to know that the risks are that Jesus is “journeying” to Jerusalem to be crucified, to die and be buried, and to be RAISED to new life. There is no resurrection with out a little death. I’m wondering if Bartimaeus’ bold outburst doesn’t recognize too that he is dying to his old way of life and living into a new way of life. A resurrection that all of us can share, too—if we will only take a journey….

--+ AMEN.

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