RISE, TAKE HEART
Text: Mark 10:46-52

This gospel text is about evangelism, focus, passion, healing.

I

Jesus is in Jericho, about to depart for Jerusalem, where he is headed...to die. He is moving along the main road with his disciples and a large crowd.

A blind man named Bartimaeus is sitting and begging by the side of the road. He’s the kind we try not to look at as we pass, the kind the city fathers want off the streets, lest people get the wrong impression about the kind of people we are.

The blind man has heard from the chatter of the crowd that Jesus is coming by, the anointed one of God who has been healing people - - even blind people. He begins to cry out, "Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me." Loudly, insistently, imploringly, embarrassingly, "Jesus, have mercy on me."

Mercy is coming near, and he cries out for that mercy. This is the gospel: Mercy is coming near. It is coming near in Jesus. Mercy as whatever mercy we most need: Healing, forgiveness, love, worth, justice. So we cry out plainly, purely, unhinderedly: "Jesus, have mercy." T.S. Eliot calls it "the purification of the motive / In the ground of our beseeching." ("Little Gidding")

In Russian Orthodox spirituality all prayers are condensed into one short prayer called the Jesus Prayer: "Lord Jesus Christ have mercy on me." In their spiritual classic The Way of the Pilgrim a man is seeking holiness and searching for what it means to "pray without ceasing." He goes to a holy man, who teaches him the Jesus Prayer. Pray it always, he says. The man then goes throughout Russia praying the prayer, but he despairs over being able to pray it always. Then one day as he prays the Jesus Prayer it passes from his mind down to the very beating of his heart. The beat of his heart praying, "Lord Jesus Christ have mercy on me." He no longer needs to say it. After thousands of times of saying it, now his heart beats it. Mercy, the thump thump of his heart.

II

Our text says that as the blind man cries out, "Jesus, Son of David, have mercy," the large crowd tries to shush him up. "Be quiet," they say, but he cries out all the more.

It’s like the large crowd at this week’s N.C. State Convention, brandishing their bits of Bible and voting to expel all churches who welcome gay and lesbian persons.

You’ve got to be careful with mercy. It’s like the song that’s been in my head all week long, the song from South Pacific written right after WWII, set during the war.

You’ve got to be taught to hate and fear
You’ve got to be taught from year to year
It’s got to be drummed in your dear little ear
You’ve got to be carefully taught.
You’ve got to be taught to be afraid
Of people whose eyes are oddly made
And people whose skin is a different shade
You’ve got to be carefully taught.

Here’s a new verse I add, with apologies to Rodgers and Hammerstein:

You’ve got to be taught to cast away
People with different D.N.A.
And people whose God has an arabic name
And churches suspiciously...
Open-to-all-and-closed-to-none.

I do not want to make light of this situation. They are trying to be faithful to their Lord as we are trying to be faithful to our Lord. And no one has a monopoly on the Lord. We’re all blind men holding onto our part of the elephant.

As I’ve said in interviews this week: We honor and respect those who interpret the Bible differently. (We work to honor and respect differences of interpretation inside our congregation.) And we hope they honor and respect us. Baptist means Freedom... or used to.

Here is a statement of response voted unanimously by our Board of Deacons:

Statement of Response
MPBC Board of Deacons released November 14, 2006

We’re trying to be a Jesus-friendly church. And a Jesus-friendly church seeks to be friends of all people. In a confrontation with religious leaders in the Gospel of John Jesus says:

No wonder this man Jesus is headed toward his death.

III

The blind man keeps crying out to Jesus. Listen to what’s next in the text. "Jesus stopped." Jesus stood still. Sometimes we miss a moment of mercy - - the mercy we can give or the mercy we can receive - - because we will not, cannot stand still. We’re always "on the go."

Jesus stops. He hears the man’s cry. He says to the disciples: "Call him here!" Jesus is calling. "Call him here."

The disciples go, and what they say is the essence of the gospel, the heart of true evangelism:

"Rise, take heart, he is calling you!" What higher, better, truer, gladder word can we say? "Rise, take heart, he is calling you."

You who despair of love, of hope, of healing, of God: "Rise, take heart, he is calling you." He!

We the church do not point to ourselves, our righteousness, our goodness, our vaunted oh so correct theology, our politics, our opinions, our virtue. These are nothing in comparison with Christ. He is the fragrant wine; these are the stains in the bottom of the glass. We point to him, and to the God he brings. "Rise, take heart, he is calling you."

So the Apostle Paul wrote to the Corinthians: "For what we preach is not ourselves but Jesus Christ as Lord and ourselves as your servants for Christ’s sake." What if that were our message, our focus, our passion: Proclaiming Jesus and being servants.

"Rise, take heart, he is calling you."

IV

The text says the blind man sprang up, threw off his cloak and came to Jesus. He, still blind, followed the sound of Christ’s voice to Christ.

Is this not our story too? We who’ve never seen him have heard him and have followed his voice to him. Words like,

Come ye who are weary and heavy laden and I will give you rest.... Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.... I have come that you might have life and have it abundantly.... Your sins are forgiven.... Rise and walk.... You are the light of the world. Consider the lilies.

All this man had was the sound of Christ’s voice; all he had to go on was what he could hear. But that was enough.

The sound of Jesus’ voice traveled through his ears, down through the outer ear, middle ear, inner ear, into his brain and straight to his heart.

Jesus asked him, "What do you want me to do for you?" It is a disarmingly direct question. Simple and inescapable. "What do you want me to do for you?" You’ve got to name it if you want to be healed.

Some of us live so disconnected from our deepest, truest self we don’t know how to answer. We do not know what we need, what we need most. We haven’t got to "Lord, have mercy" yet. We’ve spent our lives performing for others and their hopes for us - - and we’ve lost track of our own hearts.

The man could have said, "A few pennies for some bread.... An extra coat for the winter." But he went for broke. "My eyes," he said. "I want to see." "My master," he said to Jesus, "let me receive my sight." "My master," Rabboni. Not Rabbi, teacher, but something dearer and deeper. "Rabboni, my dear master." (It’s what Mary Magdalene called Jesus in the garden.) "My dear master, let me see."

V

And Jesus says, "Go; your faith has made you well," healed you, made you whole, saved you. The verb means all those things: Well, whole, saved.

There were two miracles that day, not just one. The man "received his sight," the text says, "and he followed him on the way." The divine miracle of healing, and the divine miracle of discipleship. Maybe the miracle of seeing always precedes the miracle of following. The scales fall off our eyes. The eyes of our hearts begin to see. Can we pray for that miracle today?

Here is where discipleship begins, the only step now you need: You give as much of yourself as you can to as much of Christ as you know. Then what an adventure you have begun! Growing in what you can give, growing in what you know of Christ.

Annie Dillard reports on the work of Marius von Senden about early cataract surgery on people blind from birth due to cataracts.

One 21-year-old young woman relapsed after surgery. The seen world was too overwhelming. She felt happier and more at ease blind. So she decided to keep her eyes closed.

Another 22-year-old young woman opened her eyes and she too was overwhelmed by the brightness and strangeness of the world. She kept her eyes shut for two weeks. But then she opened her eyes and began to take the world in - - in astonishment and in gratefulness she took the world in. Over and over she began to say, "Oh God! How beautiful! How beautiful!"

Mercy, it is everywhere. It falls like rain; it shines on us like the sun. It courses through your blood. Open, dear ones, your eyes, your hands, your heart.