Luke 18:35-43

Brothers and sisters in Christ,

Our Bible passage for this evening is Luke 18:35-43:

35 As [Jesus] drew near to Jericho, a blind man was sitting by the roadside begging.36 And hearing a crowd going by, he inquired what this meant. 37 They told him, “Jesus of Nazareth is passing by.” 38 And he cried out, “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!” 39 And those who were in front rebuked him, telling him to be silent. But he cried out all the more, “Son of David, have mercy on me!” 40 And Jesus stopped and commanded him to be brought to him. And when he came near, he asked him, 41 “What do you want me to do for you?” He said, “Lord, let me recover my sight.”42 And Jesus said to him, “Recover your sight; your faith has made you well.” 43 And immediately he recovered his sight and followed him, glorifying God. And all the people, when they saw it, gave praise to God.

As Jesus approaches Jericho, on his way to Jerusalem for his Palm Sunday entry into the city, a blind beggar cries out to him for mercy. Mark 10:46 names the beggar: “Bartimaeus, … son of Timaeus.” It’s fair to assume, therefore, that Bartimaeus was a local man, whose family was known and respected. But Bartimaeus himself is not respected. When he cries out to Jesus, he’s told to be silent, to shut up. He’s blind, he’s a beggar. How dare he speak? Like the “babies” and “children” earlier in the chapter, he’s told he has no right to approach Jesus, even at a distance with a cry for help.

Jesus, as he did with the children, plays by very different rules. He hears the beggar’s cry. He stops. He has Bartimaeus brought to him. He asks the blind beggar a question that must have shocked and even offended the crowd: “What do you want me to do for you?” Jesus, not only the Son of David (v. 38) but also the Son of God, by whom “all things were created” (Col. 1:16), asks a blind beggar how he can serve him. Isn’t this the essence of prayer? God himself asks us what we want him to do for us and we, who have no claim on God apart from Christ, get to reply without embarrassment or shame.

Bartimaeus prays, “Lord, let me recover my sight.” Jesus says, “Recover your sight.” Luke tells us, “Immediately he recovered his sight.” The stress is on recovery. Unlike the “man blind from birth” whom Jesus healed in John 9, Bartimaeus had once been able to see, but has since lost his sight. Jesus restores it. This physical healing is real and precious, but Jesus is also enacting a parable of spiritual healing. Whereas healing the man born blind was a parable of conversion, healing Bartimaeus is a parable of restoration.

Some who have believed in Christ turn away from him. But it’s never too late to cry out for our spiritual sight to be restored, so that we can see again that we are loved unconditionally by the God of mercy, by the Christ who died for us, and by the Spirit who prays for us “in our weakness” (Rom. 8:26). Christ not only heals those born blind, but he also restores the sight of those who have become blind.

Other Christians may still see and believe the truth of God’s love for us in Christ, but perhaps more faintly than we once did. Like the Ephesians, we may be “enduring patiently,” but still have lost some of “the love [we] had at first” (Rev. 2:3-4). Christ not only heals the blind, but he also restores clarity of sight to those who cry out for his loving and empowering mercy.

Yet others may see Christ clearly and love him dearly and, in our comparative clarity of vision, know how much more we might yet know of God’s love for us in Christ. “Now we see in a mirror dimly, but then face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I have been fully known” (1 Cor. 13:12). While the full vision of God’s glory and love awaits us in heaven, we can still ask, with all the bold freedom of Bartimaeus, for the love of God in Christ to come into clearer focus even now.

As a boy at the school adjacent to Chichester cathedral, I learned the prayer of Richard, Bishop of Chichester (1245-1253). The prayer ends:

O most merciful redeemer, friend and brother,
may I know thee more clearly,
love thee more dearly,
and follow thee more nearly.

Christ says to us, as he did to Bartimaeus, “What do you want me to do for you?” Along with all our other prayers during this time of uncertainty, would you join me in praying that we might know Christ more clearly, love him more dearly, and follow him more nearly?

Peace,

Max