October 25, 2009
A Time to Trust
- Mark 10:46-52
- Dr. Teri Thomas
Today the story of Bartimaeus begins in darkness. It begins in emptiness. It begins in raw need. And this beggar who is blind offers us a portrait of trust.
Trust is needy.
Trust is eager.
Trust is assertive.
Trust is hopeful.
Trust is impetuous and persistent and risky and raw.
Trust is personal and relational.
Trust is about God doing for us what we cannot do for ourselves, and about us, out of dumbstruck gratitude, doing for God what only we can do. Most of all, trust often leads us to places we would just as soon not go.
This year our stewardship theme has been A Time to Trust. We have heard some moving testimonies
from members of this congregation and we have been challenged to think about what it means to really trust God. But this morning our gospel reading challenges us to think of those for whom trust is a matter of life and death.
Bartimaeus hollered at Jesus. He was one of those too loud, obnoxious voices in the crowd. People told him to shut up but he didn't care what people thought, and didn't let anything deter him from reaching Jesus. For him, trusting Jesus wasn't just a good idea or a nice self-improvement program or the thing to do or a good habit to form. For Bartimaeus, as for so many others, trusting that Jesus cares about them and wills good for them is indeed a matter of life and death.
As Alfred Doolittle told Professor Higgins, it is only middle class folks who can afford morality and manners. Bartimaeus has neither. All he has is his need, so keeps on yelling. And yelling.
We tend to trust God quietly, calmly and rationally. But Bartimaeus trusted loudly, repeatedly and boldly. And Jesus stopped.
In the middle of one of the busiest roads in the region, he stopped.
In the midst of a huge crowd of followers asking questions, asking for special favors, he stopped.
Trapped between bickering disciples, he stopped.
On his way to Jerusalem where he knew he would suffer and die,
at a time when Jesus was focused on his journey
and had his sights set firmly in one direction he simply stopped.
He heard one voice. One lone voice calling from the multitude of sounds and he stopped and called Bartimaeus to him.
It is not easy to trust. Last week on the CROP walk they were offering blindfolds that people could wear
as an experience of trust and an experience of how some people have to walk each day. The blindfolded walkers had people on both sides leading them, guiding them, protecting them from harm. But still they walked slowly, cautiously, hesitantly, unsure of how much they could really trust their guides.
Bartimaeus trusted fearlessly, unflinchingly, audaciously. He throws off his cloak, jumps up and runs to Jesus. Now this is risky business for a man who cannot see. His cloak was his most valued possession. It was all he had to keep him warm at night. His pockets most likely held the meager income of his begging. For him to leave his cloak behind was like one of us getting out of our car and leaving it running at a busy intersection. We would never see it again. And for Bartimaeus just the idea of running through a crowd was hazardous. He could trip, run into someone or something, go the wrong direction, get totally lost.
How does someone trust so much?
Buddha once said, “If we could see the miracle of a single flower clearly, our whole life would change.”
Bartimaeus may have been blind but he “saw” in Jesus someone who could heal him. He “saw” the possibility and grasped his opportunity. Even though those around him did not see as he did and tried to quiet him, Bartimaeus trusted his “vision” and ran to the one he “saw” and who he knew could restore his sight.
If we face the facts we have to admit we’re all blind. We’re spiritually blind, blind to the truth, blind to a lot of the evil in the world. We admire those who help, those who get involved, but sometimes it is easier to be blind! It is easier when we can’t see. Not necessarily better, but easier. We can imagine the world the way we want, and there is no visual evidence that can contradict that.
Most of us are blind to how much God is able to do with our gifts. We don’t often see the outcome of our giving.We see a line in the budget for mission, but we never meet the children who live to adulthood
because our money dug a well in their village.
We see a building and a debt, but we cannot look down the generations and count how many will find strength here, or belonging, or salvation.
We send a meal or spend a few hours with Interfaith Hospitality Network, and we don’t realize that our help was just enough to get some family over the hump and keep them off the streets.
Rarely is it granted to us to see the fruit of our giving, but what I have seen convinces me that God can—
and does—make so much of our gifts.
To trust is to see what is possible- beyond what is.
To trust is to see the path Jesus leads us on
not the one we set for ourselves.
To trust is to get up off the side of the road and follow Jesus.
To trust is to let God use the gifts we’ve been given.
It means we see this pledge card not as an obligation to the church but as a thank you note to God.
We see our giving not as what we can live without but as what God can use to help others live.
To trust is to make what we can do more visible than what we cannot.
To trust is to clearly see what God has done for us and to let that change our lives.
Amen.