Thirtieth Sunday in Ordinary Time

 “Master, I want to see.” Mk. 10:51

The journalist John Allen wrote about a dinner experience he had while covering a Synod of Bishops on Family Life that met in Rome several years ago.

The guest of honor at the dinner was the leader of the Ukrainian Greek Catholic Church. Toward the end of their sumptuous and very expensive meal, the bishop said:

“This has been a great meal, and I thank you for it. But let’s not forget that millions of people in this world … could never dream of affording something like this.” He went on to say that “almost half of the world lives with less than what a cappuccino costs in this neighborhood, less than two euros a day, and 80 percent of the world lives on less than $10 a day. There’s 150 million homeless people, 100 million orphans, 60 million refugees.”

“I would submit,” he said, “that these are severe impediments to good family life.”
And yet, seemingly, the main concerns of that Bishop’s Synod on Family Life were instead such issues as whether the Church’s traditional ban on divorced and civilly remarried Catholics prohibited or allowed them to receive Communion.

From this Ukrainian bishop’s viewpoint, it’s really a matter of what you perceive to be truly important.

For example, this Synod, took place in a Europe where the largest refugee crisis since World War II was occurring. Yet, according to John Allen’s reporting, there was “strikingly little conversation about whether that’s actually happening.”

Again and again, Pope Francis has called our attention to the reality of living when we are in the midst of a “world war … being fought in piecemeal fashion,” with all the horrible family life disruptions and terrors that involves. Still, little attention has been given to these alarming realities.

“Master, I want to see.”

Bartimaeus, the blind beggar sitting at the side of the road in today’s gospel, represents millions of marginalized people who for centuries have cried out to be seen and heard.

According to Mark’s gospel, Bartimaeus was significantly different from most. He would not be silenced. He demanded to be heard. He shouted. And when drowned out by other bystanders who tried to quiet him, he shouted even louder:
“Son of David, have mercy on me!”

Then the gospel tells us that Jesus “stood still.” He gave the blind beggar his full attention. Jesus didn’t mind being interrupted. To the contrary, he demonstrated that our God, the God Jesus presents to us, is One who is always on the lookout for unanticipated human need, and unscripted cries of misery – a God who moves mercifully in the midst of those sitting at the side of the road with Bartimaeus – a God who is truly the “hound of heaven.”   

But most touching when one reads this gospel story is what Jesus does next.

He asks a question:

“What do you want me to do for you?”

I suggest this is a question Jesus also poses to each of us.

“What do you want me to do for you?”

What’s most important in all the world to you? What do you most need in your life? What do you most long for?

What would you ask for if you were Bartimaeus in this story?

Bartimaeus, probably unlike us, doesn’t hesitate to answer Jesus’ question?

“Master, that I may see.”

But it isn’t just a physical healing Bartimaeus wants. He wants to go deeper. He wants a new perspective on life. He wants a new way to view what will truly transform him, change him, and introduce him to a new way of living.  

How do we know this?

Because right after Jesus heals his blindness, he tells Bartimaeus: “Go your way.” But again, Bartimaeus refuses to be sent off. Instead, the gospel tells us, he “followed Jesus on the way.”

He became a follower, a disciple – the central theme of all the gospels. In fact, the verb for “following” Jesus is so important it appears eighteen times in the gospel of Mark.   

So now it’s our turn.

“What do you want me to do for you?”

Jesus is asking each of us:

What will it take to calm your fears, relieve your depression, bring a sense of peace to the deepest parts of your soul? What is it that is most dear, most treasured for you?

The late Malcolm Muggeridge, a sophisticated British intellectual who lived a life free of faith, tells this story of meeting Mother Teresa:

“Suddenly,” he said, “almost with a click, like a film coming into sync, everything took on a new meaning, everything became more real; and the meaning, the reality, shines out in every shape and sound and movement, in each and every manifestation of life …. How, I ask myself, could I have missed it before? How could I not have understood that the grey-silver light across the water, the cry of the sea gulls and the sweep of their wings, everything on which my eyes rest and my ears hear, is telling me about God?”

Or as John Newton, the former slave trader, described his total transformation:
“I once was blind, but now I see.”

Blind eyes can see. Deaf ears can hear. Closed hearts can become compassionate.
That’s the story of today’s gospel, and of all the gospels.

It’s also the story of a new Synod that Pope Francis has just opened in Rome – a Synod designed to cure us of a present-day blindness about serious issues facing the church and our whole world.

Let us pray together that, like Bartimaeus, we will not only begin to see with a whole new set of eyes but will also pledge our hearts to take the next step:
“Follow Jesus on the way.”   

Ted Wolgamot, Psy.D.