Sunday Reflection, October 29: Courage in Jericho

Scripture Readings: http://www.usccb.org/nab/102906.shtml
Jeremiah 31: 7-9
Psalm 126
Hebrews 5: 1-6
Mark 10: 46-52

The Gospel story for this Sunday is about an encounter that took place on the outskirts of Jericho, a very ancient city about fifteen miles northeast of Jerusalem and five miles west of the Jordan River. Jesus is on his way to Jerusalem, to celebrate the Jewish feast of the Passover and, more importantly, to make his own passover to the Father through his death and resurrection. A large crowd of pilgrims accompanies Jesus and his disciples.

Whenever I hear this story, I remember an incident in Jericho that took place when I was spending a semester studying in Israel as a seminarian. At that time, in 1982, Jericho still felt like a very ancient place. I felt that I had traveled in a time machine back 2000 years. The only exception was the existence of a few stores at the center of town. Our group stopped at one of those stores and I remember buying an ice cream bar, which was very refreshing in the heat of the day. As I sat on a bench eating my ice cream, I spotted a couple of men begging in the square. One of them, apparently a paraplegic, crawled across the dusty road to ask me for a few shekels. This is a frequent experience of tourists in the Middle East and elsewhere in the world. But for me it was one of those uncomfortable, very disturbing moments. It was one of those times in which the world seems to be turned upside down. I fumbled for some change and gave him some money, all the while feeling very helpless and confused. Every time I read this Gospel about Bartimaeus, I remember that moment in Jericho and I think of that disabled man.

I suspect that Bartimaeus may have been something like the man I met in the town square at Jericho. He was sitting by the roadside, a blind man who probably depended on begging in order to be able to eke out an existence. Perhaps he was dirty, in ragged clothing, a disturbing sight to others. The townspeople may have considered him a nuisance. To make matters worse, when he hears of the approach of this well-known teacher, Jesus, he causes something of an uproar. As we hear in the story, the crowd rebukes him, scolding him to keep silent. Bartimaeus is an embarrassment to them. Bartimaeus, though, exhibits a salutary blend of humility and courage as he continues to cry out to Jesus. He is humble enough to acknowledge his own need and his helplessness, and he is courageous enough to withstand the pressures of the crowd. He recognizes that his only hope is to be found in the nearness of this Jesus (see Wilfrid Harrington, The Gospel of Mark, New Testament Message Series 4, p. 175).

This man who causes such an uproar is precisely the one for whom Jesus stops and to whom he wishes to speak. Jesus asks him a simple but extremely important question: “What do you want me to do for you?” Bartimaeus does not hesitate in his answer; he wants to see. Told that he has found salvation through his faith, he follows Jesus “on the way.” This is a not-so-subtle way of saying that Bartimaeus becomes a disciple of Jesus, willing to journey with him to Jerusalem. This man who was demeaned by the crowd, told to remain silent, is the one touched by the power of God at work in Jesus. He becomes a model for all believers.

In itself, as a story of the boundless compassion of Christ for the lowly of this world, this is a strikingly beautiful and moving Gospel scene. It is a powerful moment, displaying what the reign of God is like, as this destitute man experiences wholeness and new life. We see it as a fulfillment of the prophecy of Jeremiah in the first reading, the promise of God to bring back the captives to freedom, to console and gladden those who are lost, including the blind and the lame. But the story of Bartimaeus has another level, too, one that we should be attuned to as we pray with it at the liturgy.

We are not meant simply to watch this event from the outside, as if we were part of the crowd or one of the disciples. In a very important sense, each one of us is Bartimaeus. Whatever our physical condition or our financial status, each one of us is this beggar in need of healing, in need of sight, needing to call out to Jesus. The Gospel challenges us to do precisely what he did, to imitate this poor man. There is always the temptation in us to stifle the cry, to remain silent as we sit by the roadside. It is easier to stay stuck where we are in life, perhaps afraid that if we really encounter Christ it might be too disturbing for us. In our lives, too, the “crowd” tells us to keep quiet and not to move from where we are. That crowd might consist of forces outside of us – those people or influences that make it difficult to believe. Some people in our lives, and certain forces in our society, discourage us from trusting in God or hoping in anything.  Or that crowd may well be inside of us. The inner crowd may consist of the noise that comes from the busyness and worries of our everyday lives. It may be a paralyzing guilt that causes us to lose hope. It may consist of doubts about faith that stifle the cry. The crowds in our lives, outside of us and within us, tell us to remain silent. They discourage us from thinking too much about where we are in life or what kind of help we need.

Yet if we, like Bartimaeus, can muster the humility and the courage to cry out, to ask Jesus to stop for us, we find that we are already different. Things are no longer the same. If we, too, can only bring ourselves to cry out, “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me.” When we do, Jesus stops and addresses the same question to us that he put to Bartimaeus, “What do you want me to do for you?” Bartimaeus responded to that question quickly and decisively; he knew that he wanted to see. Sometimes in our lives we are not even sure what it is that we really need Jesus to do for us. We are uncertain about what needs to be healed, or how we need to see. Sometimes we have to ask for the grace to know what it is that we really need. But Jesus still addresses that question to each of us and with it he invites us to ask for what we need. He calls us to renew our trust in his care for us, in his direction in our lives.

From this encounter, Bartimaeus follows Jesus “on the way” – on the road of discipleship. This road leads him to Jerusalem, the place of the cross. The entire event commenced with his own situation – his personal need and his willingness to cry out. From his encounter with Jesus came gratitude and peace. It concluded with his commitment to Jesus, with his newfound loyalty as a disciple. Jesus becomes much more than just a miracle worker for Bartimaeus. He is able to recognize in Jesus the one who is to be trusted, listened to and followed.

As we pray at the Eucharist this Sunday, you and I are invited to quiet the crowds without and within and to call out to Jesus. We need to ask him to stop for us in his mercy. When we do, I believe that we discover that he puts the same question to us that he addressed to Bartimaeus, “What do you want me to do for you?” If you know what it is that you need from him, tell him. If you do not know, ask for the grace to recognize what it is that you really need. We gather at the Eucharist as people of faith, trusting that he is with us, indeed that he does stop for us. In gratitude, we can then go forth from the Eucharist, renewed in our resolve to follow him more faithfully.

Robin Ryan, CP