Rock Spring Congregational United Church of Christ (UCC)

Scriptures:
Psalm 34:1-8
Mark 10:46-52

One of my favorite sayings is the one from Gandhi that goes, “You must be the change you wish to see in the world.” Be the change. Living in the shadow of the 2008 elections, we get that, right? We’re all about change—we’re on board. But before we leap on the change bandwagon, there’s just one little problem-- you can’t be the change unless you can first see the change. Leaping before we look gets us into trouble—so catching the right vision is an essential part of any change movement.

Today we celebrate Reformation Sunday—a time to reflect upon one of the most pivotal change movements of Western history. On October 31, 1517, Martin Luther launched the Protestant Reformation by posting his 95 theses on the church door in Wittenberg, Germany. These 95 theses were a broadside against the abuses of the Catholic Church of the day, and a rallying cry for revolutionary change within the church of Jesus Christ. We in the United Church of Christ are heirs of the Reformation through both our German and our English forbears—the German Evangelical and Reformed folks and the Puritans. Luther, Calvin, Zwingli, and the other Reformers were ultimately successful because they not only carried a negative message of criticism of Holy Mother Church, but because they were able to conceive of a different vision of the church, and of the Christian faith. They were able to recognize a new way of being the church, or rather, in their view, they sought to re-form the church to bring it back into line with the teachings of Jesus and the New Testament church. Well, almost 500 years have passed since the European Protestant Reformation; and I wonder, is Christianity still a change movement seeking to follow in the radical way of Jesus of Nazareth? Are we following the Reformation principle, Ecclesia Reformata, Semper Reformanda—a church reformed, and always reforming? Or have we become culturally complacent, resistant to change, and blind to the vision that birthed the Jesus movement, and that was caught again in the age of the Reformers?

In other words, how do we see the change we need in order to be the change that we wish to see, and that God wishes to see, in the world today?

I’d like you to hold that question in mind as we turn to our gospel lesson for today—Mark’s story of the healing of blind Bartimaeus.

The story of Bartimaeus is a story of faith, vision, and discipleship. It occurs in a strategic location in the gospel of Mark, at the end of a long section describing the misadventures of Jesus’ disciples as Jesus turns his face towards the cross, and immediately before his triumphal entry into Jerusalem, which begins the passion narrative. To understand the story of Bartimaeus, you really need to see it as the culmination of a larger story about Jesus’ struggles with his recalcitrant disciples, who generally fail to see, and refuse to understand what Jesus is all about. I wonder if we might dare to find ourselves in the story of the disciples and of Bartimaeus, and to ask what the gospel demands of us in our own time and place.

Let’s begin by putting ourselves in Jesus’ shoes. He is reaching the end of his earthly ministry as we head into chapter 10 of Mark, and he has spent several years now trying to teach his disciples what it means to live as though the reign of God were radically present among them—right here, right now. He has modeled for them time and again a ministry that reaches out to the disenfranchised, the abused, the hungry, the sick, and the outcast, that refuses to fall prey to temptations to earthly power and glory, and that seeks to change people’s hearts to become more loving, more just and more gentle. And yet here, at the beginning of chapter 10, we find the disciples blocking children who are trying to come to Jesus for a blessing—great, right? Yeah, that’s just what Jesus had in mind—a movement that hung a big sign around its neck reading “children need not apply.”
Right after Jesus sets the disciples’ priorities straight about welcoming children, he encounters a would-be disciple who asks Jesus what he must do to inherit eternal life. Not a bad goal, but if you look more closely, it’s all about him, isn’t it? Teach me how to save my own neck, Jesus! Jesus asks him to follow the ten commandments, which the man claims to have followed perfectly from his youth. He’s a humble sort. And yet, Jesus looks at him and loves him, and then proceeds to tell him what he lacks. What he lacks is compassion for others, and love for his neighbor. Jesus provides the remedy—Go, sell what you own and give the money to the poor, and come follow me.” You know the outcome. We are told the man was “shocked and went away grieving, for he had many possessions.”

For this man, the cost of discipleship was too high. And it’s right after this that Jesus turns toward Jerusalem. And here we find the story that sets us up to meet blind Bartimaeus. Imagine, if you will, Jesus beginning his long, final trek to Jerusalem. Imagine him taking the disciples aside and explaining to them what is about to happen—we are going to Jerusalem, you see, where I will be handed over to the chief priests, and I will be condemned to death, and tortured, and finally, I’ll suffer the worst death you can imagine on the cross, because I am considered an enemy of the state, because our movement is such a threat to Roman imperial power and to the corrupt Jewish hierarchy. But after three days, I’ll rise again, because the God that is in me, and that is in you and the movement we have created, cannot be killed.
Now what do you think would be an appropriate response to that news? Shock, perhaps, though he’s warned them that this was coming; grief, certainly, at the prospect of losing their messiah. But power lust? Grasping for glory? Complete disregard for the gravity of Jesus’ message? Hard to believe, but that’s what comes next. James and John, two of Jesus’ closest friends and disciples, come up and say, quite bluntly, “Teacher, we want you to do for us whatever we ask of you.” Pretty cheeky, huh? But Jesus takes it in stride. He simply says, “what is it you want me to do for you?” Oh, nothing much, they reply, just make sure that when you take control of your kingdom, you seat us at your left hand and your right hand—that’s all. And then all hell breaks loose because the other ten disciples find out and an all out power struggle ensues. So the long-suffering Jesus corrals them and tells them, one more time, what it means to be his disciple. If you’re here for personal advancement, he says, or you’re seeking fame and fortune; if you’re trying to rise to the head of the pack and take control, you’re following the wrong man. In fact you’ve made a grave mistake. For the last time, listen to what I’m trying to tell you! And then come Jesus’ famous words, “whoever wishes to become great among you must be your servant, and whoever wishes to be first among you must be slave of all. For the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life for the ransom of many.”
And now, right at this moment of heightened tension, Bartimaeus enters the scene. Approaching Jerusalem, in the town of Jericho, Jesus meets him. He is the antithesis of the rich man; he stands in contrast to the grasping, spiritually blind disciples. He is a blind beggar, an outsider to the Jesus movement, a dreg of society whom no one sees fit to acknowledge, as the crowd jostles around Jesus. And yet, whether out of faith in Jesus, sheer cussedness, or desperation, Bartimaeus insists on being heard, and seen. The irony in this scene is heavy. Jesus has just admonished the disciples to be servants, echoing his teaching that the last will be first and the first last. And yet, here once again, they are ignoring the cries of the last and the least. The surrounding crowd is no better, trying to silence Bartimaeus’ plea. But, as he always does, Jesus hears the cries of those who need him most, and calls Bartimaeus to him.

Throwing aside his one possession, a cloak, in his eagerness to get to Jesus, Bartimaeus reminds us of the rich man who could not let go of his many possessions. Standing before Jesus, he is asked the same question asked of James and John: “what do you want me to do for you?” His reply is heartbreakingly obvious—he asks for his heart’s desire and his greatest need: “My teacher, let me see again.” Finally, the climactic moment—Jesus’ words, “Go, your faith has made you well.” And this man, the true disciple, the spiritually and now physically sighted one, follows Jesus on the way to the cross.
Returning to my earlier question, how does this story help us see the change we need in order to be the change that we wish to see in the world? Isn’t it really, in the end, all about which vision we choose to embrace? Is it the vision of James and John—a vision of consolidating our status and prestige, or the vision of the rich man to serve only his own spiritual needs, or is it the vision of Bartimaeus—who asks for the gift of true sight so that he can follow Jesus on the way? The question must be asked not just about our personal lives, but also in relation to the life of our congregation, and the life of the church of Jesus Christ in the world.

Listening to this story, can we hear in it Jesus’ invitation to catch his vision for a world where the least and the last and the lost are embraced, and healed, and served, where Jesus’ followers risk everything to help people keep body and soul together, and where we experience a communion with God that is so real that it’s as if the reign of God is coming to birth among us? Can we catch a vision for a faith journey that brings us to personal wholeness at the same time that it propels us outward to find true greatness in our service and activism for a more just, peaceful and sustainable world? Can we seize the moment to launch a new reformation that will carry the church forward another five hundred years on the strength of its vision and its dedication to the mission of Jesus?

Finally, is it possible that the UCC, with its radical inclusivity, its conviction that God is still speaking, its commitment to peace with justice, is trembling on the edge of that new reformation? If so, what dangers lurk, and what temptations threaten, the integrity and faithfulness of our vision? In our zeal for change, let’s not lose our humility or fail to test new ideas against the enduring bedrock of our faith tradition. As we embrace this challenge, as we seek to be the change that our world needs now, let us take inspiration from the call and the promise offered us in the words of our UCC Statement of Faith. And so I invite you to join with me now in reading the final two stanzas of the Statement of Faith, found on p. 361 in your hymnal.

You call us into your church
To accept the cost and joy of discipleship,
To be your servants in the service of others,
To proclaim the gospel to all the world
And resist the powers of evil,
To share in Christ’s baptism and eat at his table,
To join him in his passion and victory.

You promise to all who trust you
Forgiveness of sins and fullness of grace,
Courage in the struggle for justice and peace,
Your presence in trial and rejoicing,
And eternal life in your realm which has no end.
Blessing and honor, glory and power be unto you. Amen.

Mark 10:46-52
They came to Jericho. As he and his disciples and a large crowd were leaving Jericho, Bartimaeus son of Timaeus, a blind beggar, was sitting by the roadside. When he heard that it was Jesus of Nazareth, he began to shout out and say, ‘Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!’ Many sternly ordered him to be quiet, but he cried out even more loudly, ‘Son of David, have mercy on me!’ Jesus stood still and said, ‘Call him here.’ And they called the blind man, saying to him, ‘Take heart; get up, he is calling you.’ So throwing off his cloak, he sprang up and came to Jesus. Then Jesus said to him, ‘What do you want me to do for you?’ The blind man said to him, ‘My teacher, let me see again.’ Jesus said to him, ‘Go; your faith has made you well.’ Immediately he regained his sight and followed him on the way.

Psalm 34
I will bless the Lord at all times;?his praise shall continually be in my mouth. ?My soul makes its boast in the Lord;?let the humble hear and be glad. ?O magnify the Lord with me,?and let us exalt his name together.
?I sought the Lord, and he answered me,?and delivered me from all my fears. ?Look to him, and be radiant;?so your faces shall never be ashamed. ?This poor soul cried, and was heard by the Lord,? and was saved from every trouble. ?The angel of the Lord encamps?around those who fear him, and delivers them. ?O taste and see that the Lord is good;?happy are those who take refuge in him.