Mark 10.46-52
In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.
Today’s readings set before us the mystery of suffering, sin and salvation. In the Old Testament reading, from the prophet Isaiah, we hear how we can come to experience separation from God. In the first verses of the reading, the prophet writes: “Behold, the Lord’s hand is not shortened, that it cannot save, or his ear dull, that it cannot hear; but YOUR INIQUITIES have made a separation between you and your God, and YOUR SINS have hid his face from you so that he does not hear” (Isaiah 1.2).
Sin removes us from the free-flowing stream of God’s grace. Jesus says in St. Matthew’s Gospel that the Father “makes his sun rise on the evil and on the good, and sends rain on the just and on the unjust” (Matthew 5.45). And it is true that God is favorably disposed towards every person he ever created. He has nothing but love, mercy, and compassion for each and every single person, and he sends to each of us nothing but blessing. Nevertheless, to sin is to remove ourselves from this free-flowing stream of God’s love. It is important to note that God never stops loving us. Never. He never punishes. He always forgives, he always loves, he has nothing but compassion and mercy. But we may reject it. We may turn away from it. And when we do, we bring ourselves into darkness and suffering – because apart from God there is only darkness. What we experience as punishment, or the wrath of God, is always the result of our own choice. Therefore Isaiah says “your iniquities have made a separation between you and your God, and your sins have hid his face from you so that he does not hear.” To sin is to remove ourselves from God’s love, from his light, from his mercy.
And this is why sin is often described not as an action, but as a condition or a state of being. This doesn’t mean that there are not sinful actions. It does not mean that we can do whatever we want so long as we try to cultivate the correct state of being. That is a twisted form of legalism. Particular sins, the kinds of actions we normally think of as sins – theft, murder, sexual impurity, lying, and that sort of thing – all LEAD TO the condition of sin. Through indulging in these sorts of things, we wander away from God, and find ourselves without light and love. And then we experience sin as a state of being – a spiritual place – and we experience it as things like bitterness, anger, and eventually despair.
Isaiah describes this state of being in today’s reading. He says “we look for light, and behold, darkness, and for brightness, but we walk in gloom. We grope for the wall like the blind, we grope like those who have no eyes; we stumble at noon as in the twilight, among those in full vigor we are like dead men” (Isaiah 1.9f). This is the state of being to which sinful action eventually leads us: a place of darkness and helplessness, of bitterness, anger, and despair. Sin may begin with our simply wanting to have fun, or to make ourselves happy, or to make ourselves better off. But there is no joy, no happiness, no goodness, apart from God. So every attempt to give these gifts to ourselves is doomed to failure. And it is at the point where we realize that our sinfulness has not made us happy, that we have not gotten the satisfaction we were seeking, that sin as a state of being sets in – where our lives become permeated by the nothingness that flows in sin’s wake: the bitterness, anger, and despair. And because this is an interior state of being – because this process unfolds in our hearts – there is no thing and no circumstance that can change it, that can help us. That’s why Isaiah says “we stumble at noon as in the twilight.” The sun may be shining, the birds chirping, but if there is darkness within us, it doesn’t matter. We are like dead men among those in full vigor. If nothing is done about this, this state of being becomes leads to – it literally becomes – hell.
What is the solution? First of all, we have to be honest about the situation. Human beings are proud creatures. All of us. We don’t like to admit it when we have done wrong, when we’ve done something stupid, or when we’ve gotten ourselves into trouble. And this is why humility is crucial. We have got to admit it. We have got to have the courage to admit that through our own fault, we have brought ourselves into darkness. This is not easy. And the fact that it is so difficult speaks to the depth of our pride – that we have very hard hearts and very hard heads. But unless we can admit our faults, we will only go on spinning our wheels, making our situation worse and worse, until eventually we are dead forever. And the world and the devil conspire against us in this way. They keep holding out to us alternatives to God, who is in truth the only solution. The world and the devil keep encouraging us to look for the answer anywhere other than the place where it can be found – at the feet of Jesus.
Today’s Gospel reading from St. Mark is about this very dynamic. The surface story about Jesus healing a blind man conceals a truer story about each one of us – about sin as a state of being, and about the way out of the darkness to which sin leads. As Jesus is leaving the town of Jericho, on his way to Jerusalem, a blind beggar named Bartimaeus hears that Jesus is passing by, and begins to cry out, saying “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!” This prayer should be the cornerstone of our own prayer life: “Jesus, have mercy on me.” Like Bartimaeus, we are all blind beggars, because we have all sinned, and we all labor, to one degree or another, under the condition of sin. Our hearts and minds are darkened, and Jesus is the only one who can help. We are in constant need of his mercy, and therefore we should constantly ask for it in prayer.
Mark goes on to say that “many [in the crowd] rebuked [Bartimaeus], telling him to be silent; but he cried out all the more, ‘Son of David, have mercy on me!’” (v. 48). This verse is about the conspiracy of the world and the devil, both of which bombard us with the message of infidelity (faithlessness) – that is, both of which constantly attempt to convince us that Jesus cannot save us, for whatever reason. One of most popular reasons bandied about these days, is that Jesus can’t save us because he was a nice, wise philosopher like Buddha. He has lots of nice things to say, but he can’t actually help us, because as wise and as nice as he was, he died two thousand years ago. That’s a lie. A popular lie, but no less of a lie for that. Jesus CAN help us because he rose from the dead and ascended to the right hand of the Father. He is alive, and he has received all authority in heaven and on earth (Matthew 28.18). Not only can he save us, but he is in point of fact the ONLY one who can save us, because he is the only living person with all power and all authority. Therefore, like the blind beggar, Bartimaeus, we should ignore the urgings of the crowd, which tell us that prayer is useless. Like Bartimaeus, we should cry out all the more, imploring Jesus to have mercy.
The ancient scriptural commentator Pseudo-Jerome wrote about this passage, saying the same thing: “Many rebuke [the blind beggar] that he may hold his peace, [and this means that] sins and devils restrain the cry of the poor; [but] he cried all the more, because when the battle waxes great, hands are to be lifted up with crying out to the Rock of help, that is, [to] Jesus of Nazareth.”
Jesus hears his cry. The Gospel says, “Jesus stopped and said [to his disciples], ‘Call him.’ And they called the blind man, saying to him, ‘Take heart; rise, he is calling you.’” (v. 49). Note that Jesus doesn’t call the man himself, but tells his disciples to call him. Often, when we are in sin and darkness, we are deaf to his voice, even as we are blind to his light. So he calls to us through his servants and his ministers. Likewise, sometimes we find ourselves in the position not of the blind beggar, but of one of Jesus’s servants and ministers. And in such a case, our word to those who suffer in sin and darkness, and who are looking for a way out, should be the words from this passage: “Take heart; rise, Jesus is calling you.”
“And throwing off his mantle [Bartimaeus] sprang up and came to Jesus” (v. 50). Jesus calls to us in our blindness. He answers our prayers for mercy. And like Bartimaeus, we must throw off our mantle, and run to Jesus. What does it mean to “throw off our mantle”? St. Bede says “[the one who] throws away his garment and leaps, [is the one] who, [throws] aside the bands of the world, and with unencumbered pace hastens to the Giver of eternal light.” If we want to receive light, we have to be willing to leave behind everything in the world to come to the Giver of light. But what does that mean? It means that we must acknowledge every circumstance, every thing, every human relationship, to have come to us from the Lord. Therefore we must acknowledge that none of it belongs to us ultimately, and that if anyone or anything stands between us and Jesus, we must abandon the impediment and keep running toward the Lord.
“And Jesus said to him, ‘What do you want me to do for you?’ And the blind man said to him, ‘Master, let me receive my sight,’ (vv. 51-52). Two critical elements are brought out in these verses: 1) honesty and 2) faith. Bartimaeus has the humility to acknowledge his problem: he is blind – “Master, let me receive my sight.” We too must stop pretending that we are fine just as we are. We are not. If we would be healed and delivered from our suffering and mediocrity, we must admit it. And secondly, we must believe that Jesus has the power to heal us, and ask him for it: “Master, let me receive my sight.”
“And Jesus said to him, ‘Go your way; your faith has made you well.’ And immediately he received his sight and followed him on the way.” Bartimaeus receives illumination and healing from Jesus, and Jesus says to him, “Go your way…” and the passage concludes by saying that Bartimaeus “followed Jesus on the way.” Notice that Bartimaeus’ way has become the way of Jesus, who said “I am the Way, and the Truth, and the Life” (John 14.6). Bartimaeus follows Jesus. This is how we may know we have been enlightened and healed: we become followers of Jesus. His way becomes our way. Again, St. Bede says the one who “follows Jesus, [is the one] who understands and executes what is good, who imitates [Jesus], who had no wish to prosper in this world, [but] bore reproach and derision.” And where does this way lead? The next verses in Mark’s Gospel says that they drew near to Jerusalem (Mark 11.1), to the city of gold, to the place where God’s glory dwells.
In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.
No comments:
Post a Comment