Blind Bartimaeus (Mark 10)

In Nomine etc..

    “Bartimaeus, son of Timaeus, was sitting by the roadside”. “Bar” means “son of” in Hebrew, and Timaeus comes from a Greek verb meaning ‘to honor’, so  the name means something like ‘son of honor’. This name, in other words, is a very interesting Hebrew-Greek hybrid. Greeks had ruled that part of the world since the time of Alexander the Great and were part of the population, as were Romans and many other ethnicities, to use a current word.

    Timaeus is also the title of a book, a dialog by Plato, which, according to the Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy, is an “account of the formation of the universe and an explanation of its impressive order and beauty. The universe, he proposes, is the product of rational, purposive, and beneficent agency. It is the handiwork of a divine Craftsman…” It is possible that the Evangelist knew this, and so includes this name in order to make a point about a relationship between ideas of the Greeks, and the revelation of God the creator to the Hebrews. Bartimaeus, after all, is blind, that is to say, he is in some way incomplete, and comes to sight, that is, to full understanding, in the presence of Jesus the Messiah.  Bartimaeus, Son of Honor, heir to Greek ideas about God and creation, comes to Jesus to reach full understanding.

    “He began to shout out and say, ‘Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me.’” The blind man, in other words, knows who Jesus is. He knows that he’s the Son of David, the promised Messiah. The Son of Honor recognizes the Son of David, even though he can’t see him. He has reached a depth of insight that allows him to perceive Jesus’s true nature. His blindness has helped him to develop his spiritual awareness, which in his case does not depend on physical sight. He knows, he is confident of what he knows, he trusts, and so he acts and calls on Jesus.

    The sighted people around Jesus are not so insightful or so aware. “Many sternly ordered him to be quiet.” Well, of course; he’s a blind beggar by the roadside, as unimportant and low status and ignorable a person as the crowd can think of, perhaps only a step or two above lepers and the like. Perhaps we ourselves feel a bit like this crowd around Jesus, when we ignore the beggars and the lost and the mad on our streets. In any case, Bartimaeus doesn’t let the blind crowd stop him; “he cried out even more loudly, ‘Son of David, have mercy on me’”. The blind man sees in Jesus not only physical healing, but the completion, the fulfilment of his spiritual journey, attainment of fuller understanding of the role of God and Jesus in creation, and in his own life.

    Jesus hears the call of the blind man. He doesn’t let the spiritually sightless crowd deter him. “Call him here,” he says. Notice at this moment that Jesus doesn’t call the blind man directly; he tells the crowd to do this. Jesus uses the moment to teach the crowd that they must pay attention to the call of the needy, the blind, those of low status, and truth-seekers. The crowd, like us, must learn to hear the calls of the blind and others, must be willing to learn from them, must be open to the possibilities that they present.

    “Take heart; get up, he is calling you.” Jesus is calling all of us, to open up ourselves to his experience of God, which can be ours as well. The story even tells us how this works.

“So, throwing off his cloak, he sprang up and came to Jesus.” Well, that describes it almost completely. We throw off our cloaks, all those routines and protections and beliefs and opinions and evasions and who knows what else, that prevent us from letting Jesus get through to us. As long as we wrap ourselves in our defenses, not even a miracle can get through to us.

    And there is still one more step. Jesus asks, “What do you want me to do for you?” He can’t help us if we don’t know what we want. We can’t help ourselves either, until we’re clear about that. Once we are clear about what we want, then we see. “My teacher, let me see again.” Bartimaeus, son, probably, of a Greek, is ready to see, and he does. The Messiah and a man with Gentile ancestry are ready to share in a vision of creation which Plato foresaw, and which Jesus represents. May we also hear Jesus’s call, throw off our cloaks, let him open our eyes, and ‘immediately regain our sight, and follow him on the Way.’ Amen. (27-28.X.18. Adv.)

Sons of Zebedee (Mark 10)

In the Name, etc..

    Today’s Gospel reading begins, “James and John, the sons of Zebedee…” Why does the Evangelist find it necessary to mention whose sons they are? What does this detail add to the story? What message are we meant to hear, coming through this small phrase? Answers to these questions will help us to understand Jesus’s teaching a few verses on.

    Some scholars think that ‘Zebedee’ comes from a Hebrew word meaning ‘Gift of God’. If so, this is a splendid name, of which Z. is likely proud, and his sons too. Z. is a Galilean fisherman, the husband of Salome, and the father of the Apostles James and John.

     Zebedee appears in all four gospels as the father of two of Jesus’ most prominent disciples, James and John, who with Peter stood at the center of the Twelve. The three were privileged to witness the Transfiguration, the raising of Jairus’ daughter, and they were with Jesus in Gethsemane.

    Zebedee and his two sons operated a fishing business on the Sea of Galilee in partnership with another set of brothers, Andrew and Peter. There were hired men, as Mark says in chapter 1: “they left their father Z. in the boat with the hired men.” Zebedee, in other words, is a successful man, with sons and his own boat, or boats, and employees.

    The fishing business changes the day that Jesus’s call comes to the two brothers. The picture we have from the gospels portrays Zebedee in a boat with his two sons and hired men, mending their nets on the shore of the Sea of Galilee when Jesus came by. “And Jesus...saw...James the son of Zebedee and John his brother, in a boat with Zebedee their father, mending their nets, and called them. Immediately they left the boat and their father, and followed him”. Although it must have affected the business somewhat, there is no record that Z. protested their forsaking the profitable business. Z. and his business are, to use the modern word, resilient!  It is even possible that the business furnishes financial support for Jesus and His disciples during the years of our Lord’s ministry. There is no record of this, but it is a plausible supposition.

    Zebedee’s wife was Salome who is always designated as “the mother of the sons of Zebedee” as Matthew’s Gospel says. Salome accompanied Jesus during His ministry in Galilee to serve Him, as Mark says in chapter 15.. She was later present at the crucifixion, and was among the women who went to the tomb to anoint the Lord.

    This family history and profile is a way of saying that the family, Z., Salome, James and John, were central, very important in the earliest community around Jesus. They were present for important teachings, miracles, and events. They were closest to Jesus and they knew it. And, being closest, they could ask questions of Jesus, and make requests of him,  which would probably not occur to others. And one of those requests is the core of our Gospel today. It reveals what the family thought they knew about Jesus, how entitled they thought they were, and how, despite their proximity, they got some fundamental details wrong. Familiarity does not always equal understanding; proximity does not guarantee knowledge. There was more that they had to learn.

    In today’s Gospel, James and John themselves ask Jesus, “Grant us to sit, one at your right hand and one at your left, in your glory.” They don’t say who should have which chair. They are probably thinking of thrones in an earthly kingdom, over which they will be judges. In God’s kingdom, the right hand of God is associated with mercy, and the left with justice. James and John apparently think that they are capable of discerning when to be just and when to be merciful,  but Jesus will reveal just what kind of preparation is necessary to learn that kind of discernment. C S Lewis is supposed to have remarked something like this: Justice tempered by mercy is the most beautiful thing on earth. James and John, and their mother Salome, don’t know the differences yet, or how to combine the two. In Matthew’s Gospel, Salome did all the talking and revealed her own ambition when she asked the Master for special favors for her two sons in the kingdom: “Command that these two sons of mine may sit, one at your right hand and one at your left, in your kingdom”. Salome evidently thinks she has the right to demand such a thing, based on her family’s importance, and in Mark’s Gospel, her sons think so too. But Jesus soon teaches them the real meaning of being enthroned with him in glory.

      “You do not know what you are asking,” Jesus says. Jesus doesn’t actually spell out the implications of their ambition; we, the hearers and readers of today’s Gospel, already know what Jesus means, and the Evangelist, good writer that he is, lets us fill in the implications for ourselves, by using our imaginations to import into today’s Gospel the future events of the Passion. It is not clear that the sons of Zebedee are aware of this, but we are; we know what Jesus knows.

     “But to sit at my right hand or at my left is not mine to grant; but it is for those for whom it has been prepared.” This remark comes as a surprise to the sons of Z. Is not Jesus the promised Davidic king? Does not a king appoint his judges and close advisors? What kind of ruler is this, who can’t choose his closest associates?

    This is a reminder that Jesus’s kingdom, his glory, is not like other kingdoms, earthly kingdoms. Jesus is announcing that he is not going to be the glorious ruler that the sons of Z are hoping for. He is not going to appoint them to their fantasy jobs. Instead, he tells them what the necessary preparation is, and what the outcome will be.

    The preparation is the cup that Jesus will drink, and the baptism that he will be baptized with. This preparation will reveal the real nature of worldly, earthly kingdoms, and what they will do to anyone who seriously challenges them. The world has not changed since Jesus’s time; Jesus still challenges earthly kingdoms, their rulers and lords, their tyrants.

    The outcome of this preparation is a complete turning upside down of what leadership, rulership, can be. The great among us are to be servants, the first among us are to be slaves. Those who achieve this transformation are signs of the real nature, the real destiny of human beings. Jesus says, “the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve.” In other words, a son of man, that is, a human being, any human being, finds his and her real nature in the service of others, and the purpose of this service is preparation for eternal life in the new heaven and the new earth. The cup that Jesus will drink is not just a grim reminder of his approaching Passion, but also a foreshadowing of his, and our, drinking of the fruit of the vine, sharing in the life of God in eternity. Jesus’s baptism and ours begins the preparation for it, and James and John and Salome and Z too were, are, on the same path.

    In the world that we know, of course, rulers are not like this. Today’s Gospel is a constant challenge to allow ourselves to begin, to continue, the preparation, the transformation that Jesus puts before us. We have been baptized; in our eucharist today let us drink the cup that Jesus drinks, and say with James and John, that “we are able” to drink of that cup, and to share in that baptism. Amen. (21.X.18. Adv.)