What DO You Want Me to Do for You! Proper 25B

 

What Do You Want Me to Do for You?  Mark 10:46-52

This sermon was written for Sermons That work by the Rev. Canon Whitney Rice for Proper 25 (B) in 2021. 

Who doesn’t love blind Bartimaeus? Here is a man who knows what he wants and goes after it no matter how much he embarrasses everyone else. “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!” he shouts. His fellow townspeople are mortified. “Shut up!” they say. “Be quiet, you hollering maniac! The one celebrity we get in this town and you yell at him like a yokel!” Bartimaeus doesn’t care. He knows Jesus has what he needs and he is going after it. He will not be silenced. We could learn a lot about boldness in prayer from Bartimaeus. We could learn a lot about asking for what we need. 

But even more important than Bartimaeus’ persistence in this gospel is Jesus’ response to him. Bartimaeus is hollering and causing a ruckus, and “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?’” 

This is one of the most important moments in the entirety of the gospels for telling us about who Jesus is. Jesus does not assume that Bartimaeus wants to be made able to see. He does not assume that Bartimaeus sees his blindness as a disability. Furthermore, although Jesus undoubtedly knows what is best for Bartimaeus, Jesus does not force it on him. Jesus asks him, “What do you want me to do for you?” 

Neither does Jesus impose his will on us, or make any assumptions about what we need or want. He asks us as openly as he asks Bartimaeus: “What do you want me to do for you?” 

Just by asking this one question, Jesus provides us with a mechanism to delve deeper spiritually. It’s a deceptively simple question. On the surface, it seems like a matter of value exchange. What can we earn or get from our relationship with Jesus? But if we spend time with this question we find new truths opening up within ourselves. 

Let’s sit with the question ourselves. Jesus asks us, “What do you want me to do for you?” 

Well, first off, Jesus, it would be great if you could make our churches successful. 

Is that really what we want? He asks us again, “What do you want me to do for you?” 

Could you magically make all our money and membership worries go away? 

Again, that would be great, but that’s not really what we truly want at the bottom of our hearts. We know because he’s asking us again, “What do you want me to do for you?” 

Okay, we’ll try again. Jesus, could you make our ministries a success? No, that doesn’t feel right either. 

“What do you want me to do for you?” 

Could you make us successful as disciples and ministers? No, still not it. We’re starting to dig through the layers of our ego as Jesus continues to ask us this pivotal question. If we dig deep enough, maybe we’ll hit our hearts. 

“What do you want me to do for you?” 

Help us to do more, to try harder, to do better, we say to Jesus. Getting closer to the truest desire of our hearts, but not there yet. 

“What do you want me to do for you?” Help us to love people more, to love people better?

Very close, but he asks us one more time with such gentleness in his voice: “What do you want me to do for you?” 

“My teacher, let me see.” 

Bartimaeus’ words become our words. Let us see how loved we are, let us see how hungry for love others are, how worthy of love they are, how precious and beautiful and wonderful our neighbors are. And let us see that all this love comes from you, our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ, and God the Creator, and the indwelling Holy Spirit. “My teacher, let me see.” 

Digging down through all the immediate superficial answers, down through fear and ego and all the concerns of this world, we find the desire at the core of our being, which is the desire to give and receive love, the desire to give and receive God. “My teacher, let me see.” Let us see that below all the noise and through all the distractions and beyond all the divisions that can isolate us from one another is the Presence that outlasts the stars. That is what we want you to do for us, Jesus. Let us see the Love. And then let us share it. 

Bartimaeus occupies a unique niche in the gospel: his is both a healing story and a call story. It is his healing that enables his call and it is his call that is the final ingredient of his healing. “Jesus said to him, ‘Go; your faith has made you well.’ Immediately he regained his sight and followed him on the way.” 

This is worth a very close look in our own lives, this relationship between healing and call, how very short a distance there is between the two, how intermingled they are. Often we feel unequipped to answer the call Jesus places in our lives, too broken and mixed up, sinful or apathetic or trapped in a net of responsibilities and habits that seems inescapable, even for gospel work. How could someone as “unhealed” as we are do something radical for Jesus? 

But we do not have to wait for healing to answer Jesus’ call. Bartimaeus doesn’t. The people in the crowd say, ‘‘Take heart; get up, he is calling you.’ So throwing off his cloak, he sprang up and came to Jesus.” Still blind, relying on no guidance from the people around him to feel his way, reacting with joy and abandon, he throws away his cloak and goes to Jesus. 

This is not an insignificant moment. Bartimaeus was homeless, a blind beggar on the street. His cloak was his only asset. It was his only protection from the weather and the cold, the closest thing to shelter he had. He cast it away without a second thought, and still blind, still unhealed, answers the call to make his way to Jesus. We can do the same. 

And in perhaps the most remarkable turn in this remarkable story, Bartimaeus is not the only one healed and called in this story. Did you catch who else had a radical conversion? The crowd. They begin with cruelty and exclusion in their hearts, doing everything they can to keep Bartimaeus away from Jesus: “Many sternly ordered him to be quiet, but he cried out even more loudly, ‘Son of David, have mercy on me!’” And this is the pivotal moment. Jesus does not call Bartimaeus directly. He calls the crowd to call Bartimaeus. “Jesus stood still and said, ‘Call him here.’” 

And then the redemption, so easy to skip over if you’re not paying close attention. “And they called the blind man, saying to him, ‘Take heart; get up, he is calling you.’” This is the moment of the crowd’s conversion, the crowd’s healing, and the crowd’s call. Jesus’ love is so sneaky and so powerful that it broke open their hardened hearts and they probably didn’t even notice it. They go from trying to keep people away from Jesus to urging them forward. They go from seeing Bartimaeus as an embarrassment and trying to shut him up and keep him hidden, to telling him to take heart and go forward into Jesus’ embrace. 

What we learn here is that call is never individual. We hear call in community. Bartimaeus calls for Jesus, Jesus calls the crowd, the crowd calls Bartimaeus, then Jesus calls Bartimaeus to follow him on the way. This entire process of call and response is deeply healing to everyone involved. 

Where do we start? We listen, and we call out to Jesus, just as Bartimaeus did: “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!” Because he is always calling and always healing. And it begins with his simple question to us: “What do you want me to do for you?” So we take Bartimaeus’ words to our hearts, “Teacher, let me see.”

To Follow Christ Proper 22B

 

To Follow Christ

Beginning in Mark 8:22 and continuing to the end of chapter 10, we find Jesus making his way to Jerusalem. The narrative is bracketed by the healing of two blind men: one in Bethsaida, and the other, Bartimeus, outside the gates of Jericho. Both seem to represent those, like many of the demons in Mark, who recognize who Jesus is immediately, so unlike the disciples, who almost never do. 

The pivotal question throughout the saga of this journey is the one Jesus puts to the disciples just after the first blind man recovers his sight. After first asking the twelve who people are saying he is, he puts the question directly to them, and in turn to all of us: “Who do you say that I am?” Peter appears to be on the right track, answering, “You are the Christos, the anointed, the Messiah.” Jesus orders them “not to tell anyone about him,” and goes on to teach them that it is necessary that the Son of Man suffer many things, be rejected, and be killed, and after three days rise. Peter objects, to which Jesus replies, “Get out of my sight, Satan, you don’t judge things the way God does, but the way people do.” i This was the first time he spoke plainly to them about what would happen when they got to Jerusalem. 

Just before our episode with James and John, Jesus tells them for a third time, “The Son of Man will be handed over to the high priests, be condemned to death, and they will hand him over to the Gentiles – that is, the Roman occupational forces. The Romans will mock him, spit on him, flog him, and kill him. After three days he will rise.” Again, Jesus speaks plainly to them, that it is the Gentiles, the Empire of Caesar, Rome, who will kill him. ii 

It is then and there that the Brothers Zebedee, James and John, a couple of fishermen, walk up to Jesus and say, “Uh, Teacher, whatever we ask, you have to do it, okay?” Jesus asks, “What do you want me to do for you?” They reply, “Uh, okay. Give us this: in your glory, one of us sits on your right, and one of us on your left. Okay?” Jesus replies, “You have no idea what you are asking. Are you able to drink the cup that I drink? Or the baptism I must undergo, are you able to take that, too?” iii 

It helps to understand that in the Psalms and prophetic literature, “the cup” means to indicate the fate that lies ahead of a person, which Jesus has three times tried to make clear. And he is not referring to the baptism of John, nor Christian baptism, but rather invokes a common biblical metaphor in which trials and dangers that lie ahead are going to be like passing through turbulent and stormy waters. What we today might call a “baptism by fire.” Confronting the Roman Empire is not going to go well. Jesus has just asked them if they, too, are ready to endure that which he has made clear now for the fourth time, rendering their response at best ironic, and even laughable: “Sure, we can do that. No problem!” 

Yet, surprisingly, rather than chastising them, Jesus affirms their declaration: “Yes, you will drink the same cup, and yes, you will face a baptism of fire, but sitting on my right and left is not for me to say. It belongs only to those for which it was prepared by my Father. Please understand, there is not going to be an immediate and happy ending. I’m not going to emerge as some imperial potentate with absolute power over all the world. I will suffer, as I have said, and I will surrender my future into the hands of God my Father, in whose power, mercy, love, forgiveness, and generosity I have complete trust.” 

Before James and John can say anything else, the ten remaining disciples are angered by the brothers’ pre-emptive strike for sharing in what they perceive will be Christ’s power and glory. Glory throughout the Bible refers first to God’s aura of splendor, power, and sovereignty, often understood as God’s presence in Israel as a brightness of light that shines visibly, as when he had guided the people out of Egypt and through the wilderness sojourn. And any person, like Jesus, who might share in God’s glory is considered a person of significant “weightiness, power, influence, prestige, and gravitas.”  This is what the brothers want for themselves. iv 

Realizing once and for all the need to spell out the misunderstanding of what it’s going to be like once they are in Jerusalem, Jesus says, “You know that the ones who seem to rule over the Gentiles, like Rome, like Babylon, like Egypt, lord it over them. Their great ones push them around. It is not to be that way with you! On the contrary: You want to be great? Wait on tables. Serve others. You want to be in first place? Become everyone’s slave. The Son of Man, after all, did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give his life, a ransom worth many people.” 

Ransom, he says, as opposed to sacrifice, signifies a price paid to liberate people from some kind of bondage. When he says, “many people,” this is a Semitic idiom that does not mean, “many people, but not all,” but rather is inclusive. That is, it does not mean that many are saved, but some are not, but between the many and the one that acts on their behalf, all will be liberated. v 

What begins with Jesus’ attempt to counter the disciples’ blind ambition becomes instead the most profound interpretation of just what his death in Jerusalem means for the community of those of us who wish to follow him. Father Brendan Byrne, an Australian Jesuit and biblical commentator, sums it up like this: The statement that concludes this episode “grounds the community’s exercise of authority as ‘service’ on nothing less than the redemptive action of Christ. If James and John and the other ten disciples – and indeed all who would be disciples – wish to enter into and share Jesus’s glory, the only ‘way’ is to follow him in the self-sacrificing service of humanity that will have its high point of concentration on the cross.” 

We do well to acknowledge that the Church has, throughout history, vacillated between the blind ambition and presumed power sought by James and John, and believing that to serve Christ as he serves the world is perfect freedom. We must look back at eras like the Crusades, the Inquisition, and the Holocaust as times when we were like James, John, and the ten and acted in ways contrary to the Way of Christ, which is the Way of the Cross. Fortunately, there have been examples of those like Lawrence, Deacon of Rome, Deitrich Bonhoeffer, Mother Teresa, and Martin Luther King, Jr., who have shown us the way of service to ransom the lives of many. 

It is no coincidence that the lessons from Isaiah and Hebrews today are also included in the lectionary for Good Friday, to which this entire section of Mark’s Gospel points those of us who wish to be faithful in following Jesus Christ, the Son of God. We are to see in the cross a mirror that reflects our true image: The image of who we are reflects the image of what we are; the image of love incarnate that serves the world; the image of Christ. vii  May God the Father, his Son our Lord, and the Holy Spirit help us to remember who we are and whose we are, and to act accordingly. Amen. 

i  Mark 8:31-33

ii  Mark 10:33-34

iii  For the following excerpts of the text in Mark 10:35-45, I am guided by the translation of Richard W. Swanson in his book, Provoking the Gospel of Mark (Pilgrim Press, Cleveland: 2005) p.303-305.

iv  Brueggmann, Walter, Reverberations of Faith, (Westminster-John Knox Press, Louisville: 2002) p.87-89

v Byrne, Brendan, A Costly Freedom (Liturgical Press, Collegeville, Minnesota:2008) p.169, n.61

vi  Ibid, Byrne, p.169

vii  Delio, Ilia, The Primacy of Love (Fortress Press, Minneapolis:2022) p.49-50

Supersessionism, Marriage, and Metaphor Proper 22B

 

God speaks to us in many different ways at many different times. Once upon a time, The Letter to the Hebrews was thought to be one of Paul’s letters. The lack of greeting common to all his letters, the vocabulary, and a carefully sustained argument, sets it apart as utterly un-Pauline. In fact, it stands out from all other New Testament documents in three distinct ways: it is the only document that contains a sustained argument on the nature of Christ as both human and divine; its origin is unknown, its intended audience is unknown, and thus its connection to the rest of the New Testament is unclear; and it is often perceived as among the New Testament’s most anti-Jewish texts. [i] It is this third perception that has caused much mischief, especially as we witness a meteoric rise of anti-Semitism in America, and around the world, today. 

Which is too bad. We can never know the unknown author’s intention in this regard. It is too bad because in many ways it is the very best example of New Testament Greek rhetoric, and presents some of the more compelling early reflections on who and what Jesus is. From the very outset in its opening statement, it tells us that God speaks to us in many different ways in different times. Long ago God spoke in one way through the prophets, then in a new way through a Son “whom he appointed heir of all things, through whom he also created the worlds. He is the reflection of God’s glory and the exact imprint of God’s very being, and he sustains all things by his power word.” There is perhaps no more majestic depiction of just how this unknown author has experienced Jesus of Nazareth. Jesus is a ‘reflection’ and an ‘imprint’ of God. He is not God, but it is easy to see how one might get that impression. 

Where Hebrews gets into trouble is when it makes similar suggestions that this ‘appointed heir’ is a new kind of priest, not like the Temple priests, offering a new kind of sacrifice only one time, instead of repeatedly, and therefore it has been interpreted by some to say Christianity replaces Judaism and God’s covenant with Israel. This replacement theory is called supercessionism, and suppersessionism happens to be the foundation upon which the current White Christian Nationalist movement is based. Jesus never meant to start a religion, let alone a nationalist movement. In fact, for nearly three hundred years it was anti-nationalist, and served as an alternative to the brutality of life in the Roman Empire. Jesus called people to become a community of love – to love God and to love neighbor. All neighbors. For becoming a community of love, the earliest Christians were routinely arrested, tortured and killed by the Empire. All notions of a modern Christian Nationalism go against all that Jesus taught and lived, and against our founders intention that in America there be a separation of Church and State. 

Such interpretations of this document called Hebrews stands in direct contradiction to Paul’s assertion that those of us who follow Christ have been grafted onto the vine that is Israel, and that together we are all God’s people. I have no doubt that our unknown author likely believed something similar to Paul, but from time-to-time Hebrews can be understood to suggest that Jesus and Christianity replaces Israel. Such an interpretation of Hebrews seems also to contradict Jesus’s story of the Good Samaritan which teaches that we are all in this together, even those most unlike ourselves, and that as the familiar hymn Jesu, Jesu puts it, “All are neighbors to us and you.” Christian, Muslim, Hindu, and Jew, and all other religious and wisdom traditions are neighbors to be loved, as God loves those of us who strive to faithfully receive the call to follow Jesus of Nazareth, who lived, died, and rose again as a Jew – a beloved Son of Israel. Whatever Jesus was, is, and always shall be, he is no anti-Semite, and no White Christian Nationalist. 

Then consider the opening episode in chapter 10 of Mark’s Good News of Jesus Christ the Son of God. It is easy to interpret it as fundamentally being about divorce. The Pharisees ask Jesus if it is lawful for a man to divorce his wife. What is not in the text is the fact that for nearly a century, the Pharisees had been debating this question among themselves. There were two schools of thought: the school of Shammai said only the man can dismiss his wife, and only for unfaithfulness, while Hillel allowed for more latitude, which eventually included a woman being able to initiate a divorce as well. Jesus is a real shrewdie and is not about to enter into this long-standing debate. He knows it’s a trap either way. Instead, he changes the conversation to be about marriage. It helps to remember that marriage in first century Israel was still a business arrangement between two fathers, involving dowry payments meant to protect everyone’s interests, but which payments would need to be returned if the marriage failed. 

Marriage, says Jesus, is a covenant, very much like the covenant God makes with Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, that is, with Israel. In fact, the prophets use marriage as a metaphor for the covenant between God and Israel. Which covenant is utterly unlike a typical marriage contract in the ancient world in that no matter how many times Israel gives up on God, God never gives up on Israel. Jesus knows this better than most. Despite his cries of abandonment on the cross, he rose to live another day.  He also knows that the debate on divorce misses the essential truth: when relationships of any kind break down, everyone is hurt no matter who initiates the breakdown, and no matter what happens next. 

Which may be why Jesus brings back the teaching on children which began back in chapter nine where the disciples evidently did not learn the lesson. People are bringing children to Jesus for a blessing, and the disciples try to send them away. Oy vey! Children had no rights, and, like women, were considered property. They were in every way marginalized like the poor, the halt, and the lame. Jesus says in effect, if you welcome me into your life, you must welcome them. As you reach out and receive into your life and into your heart those who are most hurt, damaged, marginalized and broken, it is as if you have welcomed me and my Father into your heart. Let’s not get hung up on blaming one another for whatever breaks down in our relationships, but rather let’s love one another, as my Father loves us and never gives up on us. We may not agree on all the details, we may go our separate ways, but if we do not stay in relationship with one another, then all truly is lost. 

God speaks to us in many different ways in many different times. As we consider these sacred texts from Hebrews and Mark: May the words of my mouth, and the meditations of all our hearts, be acceptable in thy sight, O Lord, our rock and our redeemer. Amen.

---

[i] Levine, Amy-Jill, Brettler, Marc Zvi, The Jewish Annotated New Testament (Oxford University Press, USA:2017) p 460