St. Paul's Episcopal Church
Fayetteville, Arkansas
The Twentieth Sunday After Pentecost, October 26, 2003 

Isaiah 59:1-19
Psalm 13
Hebrews 5:12 - 6:1, 9-12
Mark 10:46-52

Jesus and his disciples came to Jericho. As he and his disciples and a large crowd were leaving Jericho, Bartimaeus son of Timaeus, a blind beggar, was sitting by the roadside. When he heard that it was Jesus of Nazareth, he began to shout out and say, “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!” Many sternly ordered him to be quiet, but he cried out even more loudly, “Son of David, have mercy on me!” Jesus stood still and said, “Call him here.” And they called the blind man, saying to him, “Take heart; get up, he is calling you.” So throwing off his cloak, he sprang up and came to Jesus. Then Jesus said to him, “What do you want me to do for you?” The blind man said to him, “My teacher, let me see again.” Jesus said to him, “Go; your faith has made you well.” Immediately he regained his sight and followed him on the way.  (Mark 10:46-52)

     On October 31, 1517, Martin Luther changed the world by nailing his ninety five theses to the church door in Wittenberg.  The theses were a passionate statement about the true nature of penitence and a protest against the sale of indulgences.  In issuing his theses, Luther expected the support of his ecclesiastical superiors.  For the next three years, Luther lived in controversy.  He refused a summons to Rome and published three works defending himself.  One attacked the corruptions of the Church and the abuses of its authority.  The second asserted the right of the layman to spiritual independence and expounded the doctrine of justification by faith.  The third criticized the Church’s sacramental system, and argued the idea of the Scriptures as the supreme authority in religion.  Luther began the process of reformation in Germany and Europe.  Reformation was not limited to the continent, and it is a mistake to believe that the reformation that gave rise to Anglicanism spread from Europe to England.  The winds of reformation were blowing everywhere in the Roman Church – except perhaps in the Vatican.  In England , the reformation took on its own particularity. 

     This coming Friday marks the 486^th anniversary of Luther’s proclamation, and many Protestant congregations throughout the world – particularly Lutheran ones – will celebrate accordingly. 

     Given the anniversary of the reformation this week, it is appropriate that we heard the story of the healing of blind Bartimaeus in today’s Gospel reading.  Healing stories in the Gospels – particularly the Gospel of Mark – “are never a simple reversal of physical misfortune.  A man stretches out his withered hand to Jesus and sees it become useful again.  A paralyzed man stands and walks.  A girl previously pronounced dead awakens.” [1]   But the stories about those who were “once blind and now see” are particularly suspicious.  They strongly suggest that Mark’s main purpose was to make the strongest connection possible between seeing and believing.  The miracles about the healing of blindness are mostly about growing in faith than about taking off dark glasses.  Bartimaeus was blind to many things, but he clearly saw who Jesus was.  Not only was his sight restored, he was reformed.  He became a disciple, just as surely as the others were, and he became a follower of Jesus – a member of the way (Mk 10:52 – and he walked with Jesus toward Jerusalem (see v. 11:1). [2]  

     Bartimaeus did not need his sight to become a disciple, but he did need to be restored, or reformed, or reconstituted in some way.  He needed to repent, to change direction from who and what he was into something different.  The fact that the text goes to great length to tell us about this particular blind man says something about his transformation into a disciple.  The first thing we learn is that this infirm person has a name:  Bartimaeus.  He is also the son of Timaeus – a Greek.  As Jesus and the large crowd following him entered Jericho, Bartimaeus sat on the roadside loudly crying out to Jesus, “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me.”  Bartimaeus knew something about Jesus that was known previously only to Jesus’ closest companions – his lineage and origin.  All of these clues tell us that Bartimaeus had probably met Jesus before.  The fact that his name is recorded in this Gospel, also means that this blind beggar was known to the people closest to Jesus.  This particular beggar had had something shake his heart before the confrontation we heard read about today.  In other words, what we hear about today is not the first encounter between Bartimaeus and Jesus, but one that happened after the seeds were planted.  This blind beggar had arrived at the conviction that something extraordinary was happening in the world through Jesus.  He also knew that it could happen to him, and all he had to do was to ask. 

     The Bible tells us in many, many places, that those who return to the Lord are restored.  But how do we come to that point of return?  Oh, we could have an extraordinary experience and be born again and shout the name of ‘Jeee-sus’ from the rooftops.  But like others (including Mary Anderson), I’m a little skeptical of that kind of change.  Oh, I believe that it can and probably does occur, but the changes that probably endure are those that take place as the end result of a long process.  If we’re right about the text, then Bartimaeus had discerned who Jesus was over a long period.  He was not just shouting at the crowd hoping someone would give him a glass of water, or say a kind word to him.  No.  In crying for mercy, Bartimaeus said everything there is to say about Jesus.  He described Jesus’ life and ministry completely.  In the person of Jesus, Bartimaeus saw – with his blind eyes – the singular component that he and the whole world needs:  mercy. 

     Jesus heard Bartimaeus’ cries, and he stopped walking.  We can imagine the noisy crowd becoming suddenly quiet.  The crowd said to the blind man that Jesus called him.  And every so gently, Jesus asked Bartimaeus what he could do for him.  “Master,” he replied, “let me receive my sight.”  And he received what he asked for.  God in Jesus was merciful.  And Bartimaeus was reformed. 

     As people of the 21^st century, the word “reformation” seems a little out of place.  Words like “renovation,” reorganization,” or “restructuring” seem more contemporary, but the “r” words can also become fighting words in many congregations and churches. [3]   Indeed, that is how reformation began – as a battle over the restoration of something that had gotten lost over the years. 

     This was also true of the reformation that took place in our church and in our society during the 20^th century.  When Dr. Martin Luther King was preaching and protesting racist activities in the 1960s many people shook their heads in dismay.  Many people – including Episcopalians – were blind to the awful effects of racism in those days.  But decades later, the “troublemaker” became a prophet who spoke against something we, in our blindness, had come to accept.  Today, many of our children look at the photographs, film clips, and newspaper stories of segregation and the resistance to desegregation with puzzled amazement that such things took place in their parent’s lifetimes. 

     These are the rhythms of reformation.  Trouble makers become heroes.  Radical ways become beloved traditions.  Like Bartimaeus, we are always moving from blindness to sightedness, from unfaithfulness to faithfulness. 

     Our church is undergoing something of a reformation or reformulation at the present time.  As you know, the 38 primates of the Anglican communion recently met at Lambeth Palace to discuss the “profound pain and uncertainty [brought about by] the controversial decisions of the Diocese of New Westminster, Canada, to authorize a Public Rite of Blessing for those in committed same sex relationships, and by the General Convention of the Episcopal Church (USA) to confirm the election of a priest in a committed same sex relationship to the office and work of a Bishop.”  The primates felt the actions of the Canadian and U.S. churches “threaten the unity of our [the Anglican] Communion.”  They expressed fear that “many provinces are likely to consider themselves to be out of Communion with the Episcopal Church (USA),” and that the fabric of our Communion [will be torn] at its deepest level, [leading] to further division on this and [other] issues as provinces have to decide in consequence whether they can remain in communion with provinces that choose not to break communion with the Episcopal Church (USA).” [4]

     I don’t know about you, but this sounds like reformation to me, whether you choose to call it that or by another “r” word.  That which was, will be changed.  Mary Anderson, the pastor of Incarnation Lutheran Church in Columbia, South Carolina, reflected recently that change is often heard as a synonym for “loss.”  But the one thing that reformations have taught us is that we continue to need reform.  The trick will be whether we view the change as a loss or repentance.

     We need to continually ask ourselves what “corners of the church, of society need serious reformation in the 21^st century?  Where are our blind spots?  Will a reformer arise among us?  Should one arise from our ranks, what should we do with him or her?  [Like segregation of the late 19^th and 20^th centuries,] will we let some things go unchallenged today that will eventually cause our grandchildren to shake their heads in bewilderment at how blind were to the Gospel?” [5]  

     Seeing who Jesus is, is the goal of faith, and it leads to discipleship.  Only the unblind can see where to follow.  And sometimes the road we follow is a difficult one, a lonely one.  Reformation and transformation are not easy tasks, but they are made easier when we realize that the baptism that we all share “binds us together in such a way that we cannot say to one another, ‘I have no need of you’.” [6]   What we must do is remember to do what blind Bartimaeus did, and that was to ask for God’s help, and to believe that God’s goodness will prevail.  Today, perhaps more than ever, we need the miracle of restored sight to see God’s work in our current reformation and to trust in God’s mercy. 

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Isaiah 59:1-19

See, the LORD’s hand is not too short to save, nor his ear too dull to hear. Rather, your iniquities have been barriers between you and your God, and your sins have hidden his face from you so that he does not hear. For your hands are defiled with blood, and your fingers with iniquity; your lips have spoken lies, your tongue mutters wickedness. No one brings suit justly, no one goes to law honestly; they rely on empty pleas, they speak lies, conceiving mischief and begetting iniquity.  Therefore justice is far from us, and righteousness does not reach us; we wait for light, and lo! there is darkness; and for brightness, but we walk in gloom.  We grope like the blind along a wall, groping like those who have no eyes; we stumble at noon as in the twilight, among the vigorous as though we were dead.  We all growl like bears; like doves we moan mournfully.  We wait for justice, but there is none; for salvation, but it is far from us.  For our transgressions before you are many, and our sins testify against us. Our transgressions indeed are with us, and we know our iniquities: transgressing, and denying the LORD, and turning away from following our God, talking oppression and revolt, conceiving lying words and uttering them from the heart. Justice is turned back, and righteousness stands at a distance; for truth stumbles in the public square, and uprightness cannot enter. Truth is lacking, and whoever turns from evil is despoiled. The LORD saw it, and it displeased him that there was no justice. He saw that there was no one, and was appalled that there was no one to intervene; so his own arm brought him victory, and his righteousness upheld him. He put on righteousness like a breastplate, and a helmet of salvation on his head; he put on garments of vengeance for clothing, and wrapped himself in fury as in a mantle. According to their deeds, so will he repay; wrath to his adversaries, requital to his enemies; to the coastlands he will render requital. So those in the west shall fear the name of the LORD, and those in the east, his glory; for he will come like a pent-up stream that the wind of the LORD drives on.

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Psalm 13

1 How long, O LORD?
will you forget me for ever? *
how long will you hide your face from me?

2 How long shall I have perplexity in my mind,
and grief in my heart, day after day? *
how long shall my enemy triumph over me?

3 Look upon me and answer me, O LORD my God; *
give light to my eyes, lest I sleep in death;

4 Lest my enemy say, “I have prevailed over him,” *
and my foes rejoice that I have fallen.

5 But I put my trust in your mercy; *
my heart is joyful because of your saving help.

6 I will sing to the LORD, for he has dealt with me richly; *
I will praise the Name of the Lord Most High.

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Hebrews 5:12 - 6:1, 9-12

For though by this time you ought to be teachers, you need someone to teach you again the basic elements of the oracles of God. You need milk, not solid food; for everyone who lives on milk, being still an infant, is unskilled in the word of righteousness. But solid food is for the mature, for those whose faculties have been trained by practice to distinguish good from evil.  Therefore let us go on toward perfection, leaving behind the basic teaching about Christ, and not laying again the foundation: repentance from dead works and faith toward God,  Even though we speak in this way, beloved, we are confident of better things in your case, things that belong to salvation. For God is not unjust; he will not overlook your work and the love that you showed for his sake in serving the saints, as you still do. And we want each one of you to show the same diligence so as to realize the full assurance of hope to the very end, so that you may not become sluggish, but imitators of those who through faith and patience inherit the promises.

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Mark 10:46-52

Jesus and his disciples came to Jericho. As he and his disciples and a large crowd were leaving Jericho, Bartimaeus son of Timaeus, a blind beggar, was sitting by the roadside. When he heard that it was Jesus of Nazareth, he began to shout out and say, “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!” Many sternly ordered him to be quiet, but he cried out even more loudly, “Son of David, have mercy on me!” Jesus stood still and said, “Call him here.” And they called the blind man, saying to him, “Take heart; get up, he is calling you.” So throwing off his cloak, he sprang up and came to Jesus. Then Jesus said to him, “What do you want me to do for you?” The blind man said to him, “My teacher, let me see again.” Jesus said to him, “Go; your faith has made you well.” Immediately he regained his sight and followed him on the way.  

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