Blind Bartimaeus: The Courage to Call, the Faith to Follow
Passage: Mark 10:46-52
The liturgy that uses themes from this text can be found HERE.
Introduction: Reading about Bartimaeus the First Time
I read this story when I was in 11th grade. I studied it for months on end. It captivated my imagination. A man sitting on the side of the road, hearing what others were saying about the world, things only he could imagine in his mind.
Daily he sat at the crossroads and asked for alms so he could have plenty to eat. He would have heard the chatter of merchants, the sound of animals, the footsteps of travelers in and out of the city.
He goes there every day. So often that he becomes invisible to the people around him. They see him, sure—but they don’t really see him. He’s blind, but what’s worse is that they’ve become blind to him. To them, he’s just a fixture on the roadside, a part of the landscape they’ve grown accustomed to ignoring. He’s a blind man begging for alms, living on the fringes of society.
The Setting: A Journey to Jericho
Jericho, his city, was an important city. For three years, news of Jesus had spread like wildfire around the towns and countryside. Yet as important as Jericho was, Jesus had never visited his town.
I imagined Bartimaeus hearing snippets of conversations about the man from Nazareth—how Jesus had healed the sick, given sight to the blind, and even raised the dead. He might have heard stories about lepers who were cleansed. Every time people mentioned Jesus’ name it was in a tone of excitement and hope and it ignited in him a spark of faith.
“Man, imagine if Jesus ever comes to Jericho. That tax collector Zacchaeus could use a talking to. He’s so short I bet he couldn’t see Jesus in a crowd. Huh, look at me. I couldn’t either. But if I ever get close to Jesus, you couldn’t shut me up.”
Every day he’s there. It’s predictable. Here comes the farmers to the market. There go the kids to play. Here come the women to fetch water from the well. He hears the crunch of gravel under feet and the sound of animals huffing as they are loaded down with supplies.
And then, one day, he hears something different.
He hears that for the first time ever, Jesus of Nazareth is passing on his way to Jerusalem. It’s not that he is going to come one day; he’s not just near; he’s here!
The Courage to Call Out
Now, this is crucial. In that moment, Bartimaeus makes a choice. He decides to call out. He shouts, “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!”
Think about that for a moment. Here is a man who has been marginalized, pushed aside, and overlooked. And yet, he has the audacity to call out to Jesus.
This is the first lesson for us today: Faith is audacious. Faith doesn’t have to be prim, proper, and polite. It doesn’t sit back and wait for an invitation. It takes a step forward.
Why does faith have to be that way?
Faith Meets Resistance
Because of something called resistance, the status quo, or even what scientists call human homeostasis—the tendency to keep things the way they are. We, as individuals and as a group, naturally resist change. We want things to stay the same, comfortable, familiar.
The crowd around him? They don’t appreciate his boldness. They try to silence him. “Be quiet!” they say. “Don’t bother Jesus!”
But Bartimaeus doesn’t let the crowd’s disapproval drown out his faith. Instead, he does the opposite—he turns up the volume. He refuses to fade into the background. His cry for mercy doesn’t get softer; it gets louder. “Son of David, have mercy on me!”
This is the kind of faith that breaks through the noise. It refuses to stay muted by resistance or the comfort of the crowd. Bartimaeus knew what he needed, and he wasn’t going to let anything stand in his way—not the crowd, not the status quo, and certainly not fear.
This is persistent faith. It’s the kind of faith that refuses to be silenced. It’s the kind of faith that understands that when Jesus is near, you don’t hold back. You don’t let others dictate the kind of relationship you are going to have with God. You press in and step forward, even when the world tries to push you out.
The crowd thinks they are doing Jesus a favor. After all, he was always being hassled by crowds, each person vying for his attention. Perhaps Jesus is in the midst of healing someone, restoring a relationship, or discussing a deep issue with someone facing a significant challenge. In that moment, Bartimaeus’ loud cries might feel disruptive, ruining the mood of what seems to be a sacred interaction.
Or maybe Jesus is healing people one after another, and the air is filled with celebration and joy. In that atmosphere, Bartimaeus, hearing the excitement and knowing he too needs healing, cries out with urgency, “Me too! Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!”
Bartimaeus Meets Jesus, Jesus Heals the Blind Man
So what does Jesus do? He stops. He turns and says, “Call him.” The crowd that was trying to silence Bartimaeus now turns to him and says, “Cheer up! On your feet! He’s calling you!”
Jesus has transformed the crowd of exclusion into a community that is a pathway of healing. Jesus has shown them that Bartimaeus matters and is included. And they know something good is about to happen to him.
But here’s Bartimaeus, refusing to be defined by the crowd. He gets up, throws aside his cloak, and comes to Jesus. In biblical times, a cloak was a person’s most important possession. It provided warmth and protection. It was a symbol of security. But in this moment, Bartimaeus casts it aside.
Why? Because when you’re calling out to Jesus, you’re not just asking for a temporary fix. You’re asking for a complete transformation. Bartimaeus knows that to receive what Jesus can give, he must let go of what he has. He’s willing to step into the unknown, trusting in what Jesus can do. He knows Jesus is going to change him permanently.
And then we reach the heart of the story. Jesus asks Bartimaeus, “What do you want me to do for you?”
This question is powerful. It’s an invitation to articulate his deepest need. Bartimaeus replies, “Rabbi, I want to see.”
This is the moment of truth. Bartimaeus isn’t asking for mere sight; he’s asking for a new life. He’s asking to move from darkness into light. He’s asking to be a part of a world he’s never fully experienced. And Jesus responds, “Go, your faith has healed you.”
Let’s take a moment to unpack that. Jesus links Bartimaeus’ healing to his faith. It’s not just the act of calling out that brings healing; it’s the faith behind those words. Bartimaeus believed. He believed that Jesus could change his life, and his belief opened the door to transformation.
The Heidelberg Catechism defines true faith as “God has freely granted, not only to others but to me also, forgiveness of sins, eternal righteousness, and salvation. These are gifts of sheer grace, granted solely by Christ’s merit.”
For years, Bartimaeus heard what Jesus could do for others. It was by faith he said, “Jesus is also for me and will deliver me.”
This is illustrative of faith. You may be in church for years hearing about God sending Jesus into the world to forgive, to show the way of salvation, to provide healing, restoration, and reconciliation. You may hear hundreds of sermons like that and never realize that it’s for you! “But to me also, God has freely granted, forgiveness of sins, eternal righteousness, and salvation.”
If you’re here today and you’ve never articulated your faith in that way, perhaps today’s the day. You may see yourself in Bartimaeus, where you throw the cloak of yesterday away and walk toward Jesus and say, “I want to see your love and grace for me and I want to follow you.”
The Faith to Follow
That’s what Bartimaeus did. He receives his sight and he follows Jesus on the road.
Faith doesn’t just seek a miracle; it seeks a relationship. Bartimaeus doesn’t just want his sight; he wants to follow his Savior. His healing isn’t the end; it’s the beginning.
Now, let’s take a moment to reflect on our own lives. When we cry out to Jesus, what do we want? Are we merely looking for solutions to our problems? Are we seeking temporary relief? Or are we looking for something deeper? Are we willing to follow Jesus? Are we ready to let our faith lead us to a life transformed?
Too often, we treat our faith like a vending machine. We put in a prayer, press the button in 4 places (the sign of the cross), and expect our miracle to drop down. But faith is so much more than that. It’s a journey. It’s a commitment. It’s a willingness to follow Jesus.
Bartimaeus’ story challenges us. It pushes us to consider how we respond when Jesus calls us.
Conclusion
Today we sit at a crossroads. We sit on our familiar cushions. We have heard familiar voices – the laughter of kids, the movement of feet, and the beat of well-known songs. I wonder, though, if today, you may have heard something different. I wonder if you heard that Christ was here and was here for you.
All that you’ve wanted and waited for, all that you’ve heard he’s done for others, you’ve wondered if it could be so for you. Will you be bold and call out or will resistance keep you under cloak?
If you listen, though, Jesus is calling, softly and tenderly, calling.
When he asks you, “What do you want?” don’t just ask for what you think you need. Ask for transformation. Ask to see and to become part of a world that you’ve only imagined could be true.
And when he responds, whatever you do, please don’t just take the gift and walk away.