Vision and blindness
Christ Church and St Mary’s, 29th
October 2000
Mark 10:46-52
Jeremiah 31: 7-9
You might have heard of me. The name's Bartimaeus, or son of
Timaeus. Mark, the Mark I've known for years
now, has recorded my story in his Gospel of Jesus. And even Matthew has me in there. If you were wondering why I am so prominent, now you know. Recorded for posterity. The last of Jesus' miracles before his
death. Well, I am getting to be an old
man now, and one day my eyes shall be shut again. So I thought before I leave you I thought I'd paint my side of
the story. I used to beg for money, but
now I beg for your indulgence.
I've often heard it said without
vision the people perish. Well I was
perishing. I was lost in my own world
of darkness. Nowadays at least people
with an affliction are helped to cope with life-they are given things which can
compensate for their difficulties. I
had nothing. Yes, you say, but you had
your other senses. Sure, I could hear
well enough. I could hear the insults,
the jokes, the whisperings. And I could
feel. I could feel the elbows pushing
me out of the way. I could feel the
dirt under my head as I lay asleep at night.
I could feel the stones of the wall against my back as I sat year after
year at the mercy of the crowd. I could
taste, taste the scraps which were thrown at me as I tried to fend off the dogs
who competed with me for my food. And I
could certainly smell-smell the dust of the road, the smell of my own body
covered with the dirt of the city.
The worst thing was the
loneliness. I was the blind one, but
soon everyone became blind to me. They
didn't want to see.
I had faith in those days. I believed one day God would bring us back
to be his people in his land. None of
this feeling guests in your own country.
I was waiting for the king to come.
Our prophet Jeremiah had said God would bring us together, the blind and
the lame, that he would lead us back in straight paths, believe me I know about
straight paths, and that he would be our father. I knew all this, and it kept me going, though God knows how. But it's one thing to have a hope that is
written in the history books, it's another thing to know it in your bones, for
it to be part of you, for it to turn your darkness into light.
Fifteen miles out of Jerusalem I
was. Sitting on the main road. It was packed I tell you. All those people heading off for Passover. We had 20,000 priests in Jericho. And they all were on their way. Of course by law everyone had to go to
Jerusalem, but they couldn't have fitted in so they just did their bit by
standing at the side of the road watching the other pilgrims pass. I was getting kicked by kids, told to get
out of the way, spat on even. So often
the faithful are sidelined. But even
when I was pushed to one side, I knew what I was listening for. And I heard it. My hearing is better than most.
They say kings are announced with
blasts of trumpets. This one just had
the chatter of a crowd around him. It's
funny the way different people reacted - some started gossiping about him all
around me, others were just a bit curious to take a look, but me, I was
desperate. You might have been a bit
embarrassed at the noise I made. There
was something a bit manic about it. But
I knew that unless I made a spectacle of myself, I would miss my chance. People told me to shut up. They still do when I mention his name. There is something about his name that makes
all the difference. You can talk about
spirituality or religion or even God sometimes, but as soon as you mention his
name, well that's a different thing. In
fact, I have found since that following him often makes me feel like I'm making
a spectacle of myself. But what else
can you do?
Anyway, I got up without a clue how
to get through the crowd. My blooming
cloak got stuck around my ankles. So I
had to take it off in order not to get left behind. That's another thing about following him, stupid things tend to
get in the way and hold you back. Maybe
not your clothes, but sometimes just little voices in your head telling you to
stop being so serious, so committed.
You just have to kick them off.
Anyway, I just leapt at him. I might have got hurt, but that was a risk I
was willing to take. And do you know
what he asked me? "What do you
want me to do for you?" Hadn't he
noticed? Maybe he was blind as
well?
Or maybe he saw me deeper than I
realised at the time. Yes, I wanted to
see. And he'd been the one who said he
had come to open the eyes of the blind, like Isaiah had prophesied. All his miracles I'd heard about had not
just been adverts for his message, but signs that God was bringing his life
into the real world. Into the physical
things that he had made. This was the beginning
of the promise of a healed world, and everything I have seen since shows me
that God still wants that to happen. So
yes, I wanted to be healed.
But he knew that I wanted more than
that. I wanted to see one thing most of
all. And that was his face. I've found out since that you can have all
your senses and you can see the most beautiful things imaginable. But there is something about seeing him
looking at you, knowing you, understanding you that makes all the best gifts of
life add up. When he opened my eyes I
fell over with the colour and the light.
But the thing that I first focused on was his face.
And his face has been what I have
followed since. Of course, as I look
back now, I know that I had got him wrong in so many ways. I had called him the Son of David, thinking
that he was going to get rid of the Romans.
But he doesn't slap me down for not getting the whole picture all the
time. I'm no theologian. I've got both my eyes working fine, but as I
was saying to Paul the other day, even now I feel like I see through a glass
darkly sometimes, and I am looking forward to seeing him face to face
again. Good phrase, he said, I'll use
that.
It's funny, it was faith that
opened my eyes, but so often people accuse me of having blind faith. I don't know what other kind of faith you
can have. After all, there are some
good things about being blind. It means
you have to reach out, it means you have to take the hand that is there even
when you can't see it, it means you have to trust that it is going to lead you
in straight paths.
Vision and blindness. Jesus gave me both.