Mark
10:46-52
Introduction:
As many of you know, I have something of a weird
hobby. Well it’s a little more than a hobby actually, it’s another aspect of my
life. I’m a student of philosophy. I don’t know if many of you have been on
Temple University’s campus, but I’ll tell you where you can find me
half-the-time. In the heart of Temple’s main campus is a new construction
project. If you were to go there today, you would see a massive pile of rubble.
This lot will eventually become the University’s new library. But for now, we
have something else.
Perhaps some of you have seen to AMC
show Mad Men. It’s a critically
acclaimed drama that follows the lives of 1960’s Ad-men on Madison Avenue. In
this period drama younger viewers can see all the glitz and glamor of the
1960’s in a way that your old photo albums just don’t convey. The vibrancy and
structure gleams and sparkles. Unfortunately, that’s not what you would
experience if you go past the computer terminals in Temple’s existing library.
In order to get to the stack you have to hop on a rather unsteady elevator. As
the doors close they shimmer and shake; you’re always left wondering if they’ll
close all the way. Then slowly and jerkily the elevator rises and you feel as
though this avocado colored cage will be your doom. Once you finally arrive,
the doors open and you move into the stacks. The desks and chairs littered
among the books also take you to another period; and there amidst this 1960’s
modernist throwback you find yourself staring at the section where I spend my
time.
Philosophy is the study of the fundamental
nature of knowledge, reality, and existence. It’s a place for unusual people to
ask questions like, “What does it mean to be?” Although it may seem obscure,
abstract, and removed the field has touched each one of our lives. The thoughts
that you and I contain have been shaped by the questions and ideas we’ve
encountered.
So it was with a bit of satisfaction
that I stumbled across some of the issues that pop out from today’s scripture.
Like many of you, I have heard and read this scripture before, but for some
reason I missed something. Perhaps I had never read the footnotes, perhaps I had
never dug into issues, or maybe my eyes are just more attuned to philosophical
issues now. I’m not really sure. But I am sure about something. This scripture,
this story about a blind man being healed by Jesus, is more that it appears. This
scripture almost certainly references a work of Plato’s –
one
of the oldest authors you’ll find in those stacks where I spend so much time.
Tuning In to Mark’s Story:
The scripture we read and heard this
morning seems pretty straightforward. There’s a blind man. This blind man tries
to get to Jesus, but is seen as a nuisance. Jesus hears him and calls for him.
The blind man shows up and asks to see again. Jesus tells him to go because his
faith has made him well. Ta-da, the blind man is healed. This is the story as
it first appears. It’s a quaint story about how faith heals.
But there’s more to it than that! You
see this story starts off with something we miss. If you have an NRSV Bible, it
will have attempted to do some work for you in order to help you understand
what’s happening. It actually repeats the blind beggar’s name twice. The
translators introduce him as, “Bartimaeus son of
Timaeus.” What you may not realize is that the editors of your Bible want you
to really get the idea that this person is the son of Timaeus. Bar-timaeus
actually means, quite literally, “Son of Timaeus.” The name isn’t actually
something that would likely have been given to someone. It’s a title. For all
we know, the blind man could have been named “Harry, Larry, or Moe.” This man’s
individuality isn’t the point of the story. In fact, this is the only gospel in
which we are even given a name for the blind man. In the other accounts he’s
devoid both of name and title. So what we’re seeing here in Mark is quite
interesting. Like the other gospel writers, Mark isn’t interested in who the
blind man is, but what he is. This is why he assigns a title, rather than a
name.
So let’s get into this question
together, “What’s in this title?” There are really two things we need to take
note of. The title ‘son of Timaeus’ had two meanings to the audience and
original reader. The first is a bit of Aramaic wordplay. The title would have
sounded like “son of the unclean” or “son of rejection.” This would, of course,
contrast with the title used for Christ here – “Jesus, Son of David.” The
positions of the blind man and the Christ are being contrasted. Jesus is
royalty and the blind man is rejection personified.
Similarly, there’s a second
philosophical reference in the title given to the blind man. This one is quite
literal. The name Timaeus just happens to be the name of a Platonic dialog. The
story was written around 360 BCE, which means that it would have already been
considered a well-known classic. Now at first this may seem coincidental, but I
don’t think it is. You see, Timaeus
deals extensively with the theme of sight in this dialog. Mark is telling a
story about Jesus healing a blind man, but he gives that blind man a title that
matches the title of a story Plato tells about true sight. I don’t think this
is coincidence. I think that Mark is playing with words and constructing something
really beautiful.
You see, the Platonic dialog Timaeus is pretty fascinating. For one
thing, it’s one of the ancient works that mentions the lost city of Atlantis!
Now before you all run off to grab your Indiana Jones hats, I don’t think that
Mark is saying much of anything about Atlantis. It would be fun. I mean you could stretch
it and say, "The Kingdom of God is like Atlantis - mysterious and possibly
destroyed by the Athenians." But that definitely doesn’t make any sense.
So there’s something else going on – something deeper.
Plato’s Timaeus emphasizes an intellectualized realm of the forms, of a
perfection that exists in a spiritual reality. Plato’s story focuses on true
sight as something to be gained through reason and enlightened engagement with
the intellect. In the story Timaeus tells the reader about the origins of the
world and where one can find true enlightenment. Timaeus is a character that
Plato uses to convince his reader of his system.
But the Evangelist Mark is doing
something very different. Mark uses the “son of Timaeus” to emphasize a
material submission and redemption. Mark casts off this Platonic dream and takes
the blind man, the “son of poverty”, and has him cry out for mercy saying, “My
teacher, let me see again.” Jesus responds by healing him and saying, “Go; your
faith has made you well.” But instead of leaving the blind man stays and
follows Jesus. The implicit point seems to be that the blind man had already
found the path to true vision, to true sight. The point seems to be that true
sight is to be found in one’s relationship to God.
Bartimaeus had found the vision of
faith and he demonstrated it in six ways: (1) by going to Jesus; (2) by his
belief that Jesus was the Messiah, something that the disciples were still
struggling with; (3) by persevering against opposition; (4) by casting away all
that hindered his path to Jesus, which in this story is illustrated by his
cloak; (5) by obeying Jesus when he is called; (6) by following Christ after
his eyesight was restored.
The former ‘son of poverty’ – this
person who lacked vision – found a new sight through a faith that healed him.
When he cast aside the weights the held him back, ignored those who stood in
his way, and chased after the one he called “my teacher” he found a healed and
restored sight. The lesson here is simple. Life is full of many distractions.
We all have conceptions and philosophies about the world and even our religion.
But these are secondary things. One thing supersedes all others – the Jesus to
whom we cry out. The Jesus who also cried out, “My God, my God, why have you
forsaken me?” The Jesus who corrects our blindness. The teacher above all other
teachers.
Mark, like Paul, employs references to
intellectuals not to argue for some type of anti-intellectualism, but to point
out that God stands above everything – including our ideas of truth, justice,
and wisdom. We find a story here of humanity. We find a story of us – people
who are blind to the grandeur of the universe – yet capable of chasing after
the keeper of all truths. When we submit ourselves to Jesus in discipleship we
find ourselves being transformed into new creations. Our vision starts to
change because God is at work to make all things new. The universe is about to
be wrapped up in the unfolding of God’s New Creation. When we cry out from our
blindness to God, we can find ourselves filled with hope and new perspectives
because we have sought the surest teacher of all – Jesus, God’s greatest gift
to humanity.
To conclude I want to read you a poem
I found that reflects upon this story. I hope that you will find it as moving
as I did.
Where have you
been today, Bartimaeus?
“I’ve been in a
world of hunger and fear and darkness.
I’ve been by the
side of the road I named despair.
I’ve been cast
off, like something beyond repair.”
What have you
heard today, Bartimaeus?
“I’ve heard the
pain of those who cry for justice.
I’ve heard the
pain of those who cry for peace.
I’ve heard someone
is near who brings release.”
What do you need
today, Bartimaeus?
“I need to know
that joy can rise from ashes.
I need to know
that hope can rise from grief.
I need to see the
sun touch the lifted leaf.”
What did you do
today, Bartimaeus?
“I called to the
Son of David who comes to save us.
I called to the
One who in mercy freely gives.
I called to the
One whose power opened my grave.”
Where are you
going today, Bartimaeus?
“To be with Christ
as he brings new days to others.
To follow the One
who’s brought me this new sight.
To share with all
God’s people this new life.”
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