I recently heard a story about a children’s
talk based on today’s gospel lesson. The
minister told the children about Jesus meeting the blind man Bartimaeus. The minister got to the point where Jesus
asked Bartimaeus, “What do you want me to do for you?” With great seriousness, she asked the
children, “Boys and girls, if you were blind, what would you ask Jesus to give
you?”
One little girl looked at the minister with wide eyes and said earnestly, “I’d ask Jesus for a nice ... little ... dog to lead me around!”
One little girl looked at the minister with wide eyes and said earnestly, “I’d ask Jesus for a nice ... little ... dog to lead me around!”
Everyone in the church began to laugh ...
everyone, that is, except the little girl’s parents. She had been pestering them for a dog for
months. Now, she was beginning to enlist
the aid of a ... a Higher Power.
Anyway, as we hear about Jesus and
Bartimaeus, you may wonder about Jesus’ question to Bartimaeus: “What do you want me to do for you?” What do you think? Wasn’t the answer to that question a bit ...
well ... just a bit obvious? Bartimaeus
was blind. ... He wanted to see. ... Why did Jesus ask that question when the
answer was so painfully obvious? I’ll
return to this question, but first I’ll tell you another story about a blind
man.
There were once two young men named Dan and
Earl. They were university students in
the United States. Dan was blind. Earl and Dan were the closest of friends. They did everything together. One day, they were in Earl’s room, listening
to some music together on Earl’s stereo, music of the sort known as “rhythm and
blues”, or “soul”.
Eventually, Dan said to Earl, “Why don’t
you turn off that nigger music? It’s
getting on my nerves.”
Earl replied, “Dan, I’m black.”
Dan stormed out of the room, shouting
racial slurs and obscenities, obscenities that were vigorously returned by
Earl.
“What do you want me to do for you?”
Why did Jesus ask that question when the
answer was so painfully obvious? ... Or
was it?
You see, I don’t think the answer was all
that obvious. I believe Jesus needed to
ask that question.
Bartimaeus had a certain role in his
community. He was the blind man who sat
by the side of the road and begged. Many
people gave money to beggars. ... Some gave out of a sense of compassion for
the beggar ... Others gave so they could feel a bit better about themselves. ...
They could say things like, “I’m not such a bad fellow, really. I gave some coins to that blind man by the
side of the road the other day.”
Bartimaeus had a certain identity in his
community. People may have said things
like: “Old Bartimaeus there, what a
great guy! Blind as a bat, but do you
hear him complain? Never! He lost all his sight in that accident a few
years ago, but do you hear him complain?
Never! He went from being a
senior hand down at the olive farm to begging by the side of the road, but do
you hear him complain? Never! I gave him a few coins yesterday and he was
so grateful you’d think I gave him the deed to my best vineyard. Poor old blind Bartimaeus, what a great guy!”
You get the idea.
Bartimaeus had a certain role in his
community. He had a certain identity in
his community. He had a certain security
in his blindness. By healing Bartimaeus,
Jesus had the power to disrupt all of that.
He would gave regained his sight at the cost of his role in
society. So, in his compassion, Jesus
asked Bartimaeus for permission to heal him.
“What do you want me to do for you?”
I believe that, when Jesus asked that
question, he was not engaged in an exercise in the painfully obvious. In all his healings, Jesus expressed God’s
compassion in the presence of human suffering.
In this encounter, Jesus showed that the divine compassion is also
marked by the divine courtesy. “What do
you want me to do for you?”
“What do you want me to do for you?”: Jesus asked this question to Bartimaeus.
Bartimaeus asked for his sight, despite all the scary changes that this would
entail. And Bartimaeus received his
sight.
Returning to my earlier stories, one of
them had a happy ending. The little girl
eventually got her dog.
My other story didn’t have a happy
ending. For the rest of the time they
spent at the same university, Dan and Earl didn’t speak another civil word to
each other.
“What do you want me to do for you?”: In a way, Jesus asked the same question to
Dan as he asked Bartimaeus.
And to that
question, Dan - in a way - replied, “Oh, please, sir, please don’t disturb my
prejudices.” And, as far as I know,
those prejudices are still - tragically - intact.
As well, Jesus asks us, every day, “What do
you want me to do for you?”