Mark 10:46-52
“They came to Jericho.”
My 4th grader is learning how to write a
summary. Leafing through his ELA (English Language Arts) folder, I came across
a worksheet which directed students to summarize a story they had read together
in class. Reading what my son had written, I noticed that almost every sentence
began with the word “then”, as if the story was just a series of actions that
hinged on each other like the blocks of a Jacob’s Ladder, moving the plot
inevitably to its finale. I think that Mark’s gospel is somewhat like this;
Jesus and the disciples always at the crest of a forceful wave pushed onward by
a current of urgency. Skimming Mark’s gospel, you find a repetition of “then,”
“immediately,” crossings, and returns.
The gospel reading for the 30th Sunday in
Ordinary Time, Mark 10:46-54, brings Jesus nearly full circle in the journey of
his public ministry. Jesus and the disciples are passing through Jericho on the
way up to Jerusalem, and he and the disciples have a sense of what awaits.
There’s been a sense of uncertainty, perhaps even dread, building in the
disciples on this journey to Jerusalem. This uneasy feeling finds outlet in
some confounding arguments about greatness. Two questions frame this extended
dialogue/argument between the disciples and Jesus: 1) who is the greatest?, and
2) what do you want me to do for you?
Who is the greatest? Prior to the story of
Bartimaeus, the disciples have been obsessed with this question. Who is the
greatest? – meaning who among the 12 is the greatest. Now, to me, this kind of
argument about who is greatest is boastful and arrogant. But I think that what
is underneath this question is a turbulent anxiety about approaching Jerusalem
and fear about how it will unfold. After all, Jesus has predicted his betrayal,
murder, and resurrection…and the prospect of it all is frightening. So the
disciples default to an argument about the future – future leadership, the
future kingdom, the glory that awaits them.
I can totally relate to the disciples’ question.
For example, on the first day of class when a professor would distribute the
course syllabus, I was all about figuring out the answer to this one question:
what do I have to do to get an A? My focus and energies in those first few
weeks were all directed toward the end goal: a good grade. This is not a bad
thing, but it does slightly miss the point of the educative journey and the joy
of learning. Here’s another example. While on mission trips with high
schoolers, typical questions I get asked – especially during the first couple
of days of the mission – go something like this: “what will we be doing
tomorrow?”, “can I switch jobs?” and “what day are we leaving?” These are
reasonable questions and they come up, I have noticed, when expectations are
not meeting reality. I’ve learned to respond with a gentle reminder: participation
not anticipation. One goal of going on a mission trip is to live in the
moment, even when that moment is boring or overwhelming. When our focus is on
completing a task and moving on, or reward, we can lose sight of our purpose.
Jesus implies something similar to
“participation not anticipation” to the disciples. As any good teacher would,
Jesus finds a teachable moment to engage his disciples in an experiential
lesson. When the disciples, in their anxiety about their present moment, get
ahead of themselves and bicker about position and rank, Jesus tells them a
parable: ‘Whoever wants to be first must be last of all and servant of all.’
(Mark 9:35b) In a kind of visual parable, Jesus then takes a small child; he is
like a mother, cradling a child in his arms and, in doing so, placing that
child at the very center.
There is no “greatest” or “best” that awaits us
in some far off tomorrow; the Reign of God is not a hierarchy – it’s the very
opposite. When James and John can’t let go of the question about greatness,
asking Jesus to grant them a place at his right and his left in his glory,
Jesus drills down on where, exactly, the disciples should position themselves.
Jesus says, “whoever wishes to become great among you must be your servant, and
whoever wishes to be first among you must be slave of all.” If we look at the
Greek, we find that the word translated as servant is diakonos – deacon
– and the word for slave is doulos. Our English word “doula” traces its
origins back to doulos, and the meanings are similar, for the Greek doulos,
like our modern doulas, are people who are devoted to the well-being, nurture,
and care of another, putting someone else’s interests above one’s own
interests.
When Jesus places a child at the center, the focus turns away from an abstract
argument, and towards a person. And this person, this child, not Jesus’ own
child, but born under systematic oppression and persecution, and living in an
occupied, overpoliced land, is wholly dependent on others for full human
flourishing. If our time is resonant with Jesus’ time it is in the reality that
suffering and inequality exist, yet the impact on children is often hidden.
Children lack standing in most societies and rely on adults to advocate for
them. Children in poverty face hunger, inadequate housing, and deficits in
early childhood development; children are facing the terror of gun violence in
school, home, and neighborhood; and hundreds of children still face the
heartbreak of separation from family with whom they sought safety in our
country—these and countless other children find themselves in despairing
acceptance of a seemingly limited future. Our time, like Jesus’ time, is
contentious. Many things vie for our attention. Because of our faith in hope,
we must remain present to the suffering and become advocates. Jesus tells us
that the Reign of God is for the deacons and the doulas who serve the last, the
least, and the left behind standing with and for all God’s children who suffer,
embodying God’s love and will for justice.
But, we have yet another aspect of today’s gospel to consider. Earlier, I
identified two questions that frame this particular moment in Mark’s gospel,
this moment in time just before Jesus enters Jerusalem. The first question we
considered, “who is the greatest?”, is put to Jesus by the disciples. The
second question brings the arc of this story to an end -- the kind of end that
is a new beginning. Significantly, this moment, takes place in Jericho, town of
historical and spiritual significance. And the question is this, “what do you
want me to do for you?” Actually, in Chapter 10 of Mark’s gospel, we hear two
slightly different phrasings of this question. The first time we hear it, it is
more of a statement. James and John say to Jesus, “Teacher, we want you to do
for us whatever we ask of you.” These disciples are being so impertinent! But,
Jesus doesn’t seem particularly put out by the request and is at least willing
to hear what they have to say. Jesus answers James’ and John’s with more
questions about what they are willing to do, what sacrifice they are willing to
make in reaching for greatness. Yet, even when they unhesitatingly declare
their willingness and ability, Jesus distances himself from the disciples. He
gives their illusions of grandeur no satisfaction.
In contrast to this is
Jesus’ conversation with a blind man named Bartimaeus in Jericho. Bartimaeus is
begging on the road that leads out of town and hears that Jesus and his
disciples are walking past. He starts making a lot of noise, yelling at Jesus
repeatedly, “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!” Jesus stops and asks for
Bartimaeus to come to him. Bartimaeus immediately jumps up and goes over to
Jesus. Jesus asks him, “what do you want me to do for you?” “My teacher,” says
Bartimaeus, “let me see again.” Jesus’ provides the healing immediately.
Bartimaeus regains his sight and follows Jesus on the way, -- the Way which
leads to Jerusalem, to crucifixion,...and to resurrection.
Our lives, our country,
our world, all harbor shadows -- even in the best of times -- that blind us.
And those shadows and blinders can prevent us from seeing that salvation is at
hand, walking down the road perhaps. Faith has shown us, in scripture and in
our very lives, that we must always seek the truth that despair and fear has no
hold over us. Christ is alive and hope lives within us, given to us by the One
who gave his life as a ransom for many. If we are filled with anxious demands
that are disconnected from our true selves, we may find -- well, not rejection
exactly -- but perhaps that we’re always at a crossroad, unsure of our way. If
like Bartimaeus we call out with abandon to Christ from the depth of our
longing, aware of Christ’s presence, we will find vision and direction.
Let us heed Jesus’ vision and call to be doulas laboring with God for a world
of humility, love, justice, and mercy. Let our hearts and minds be attuned to
the needs of all God’s children, and let us seek to form bonds of care,
concern, and empathy with those on the margins.
And let our prayer today
and everyday be: Jesus, have mercy. Let me see.
Amen.
************************
Lesley Pella-Woo, a
former Pastoral Associate at The Church of St. Francis Xavier (1999-2004),
currently serves as the Director of Christian Education and Youth Ministry at
Hitchcock Presbyterian Church in Scarsdale, NY. She lives in New Jersey with
her husband, son, and a cat.
