Tuesday, October 30, 2018

To See Or Not To See


Scriptures:              Jeremiah 31:7-9    Psalm 34:1-8      Hebrews 7:23-28         Mark 10:46-52



In our Gospel readings this month, Jesus has been making his way to Jerusalem.  Along the way, he told his disciples three times that in Jerusalem, he would be arrested, tortured and killed, and would rise on the third day – though the disciples likely didn’t have the slightest idea what that last part meant.  At the same time, the disciples were jockeying for position, engaging in intrigues and power struggles.  They  encountered a young man who had everything a young man could have asked for…..and yet still felt that something was missing from his life.  Jesus told him that in order to enter eternal life, he would have to leave behind his wealth, everything that comforted and satisfied him – and for the rich young man, that price of admission was just too high.
Today, Jesus and the disciples reach Jericho, their last stop before Jerusalem.  Some of our longtime members may remember singing, “Joshua fought the battle of Jericho, and the walls came a’tumblin down.”  But in Jesus’ day, Jericho was a dangerous place, full of robbers – we may remember that in the story of the Good Samaritan, it was a Jewish man traveling from Jerusalem to Jericho who was set upon by robbers along the way. 
But in today’s reading, at Jericho we encounter, not Joshua, not robbers, not the priest or the Levite or the Good Samaritan, but a blind beggar named Bartimaeus.  He sat by the side of the road with his cloak spread before him to catch whatever coins were tossed his way by passers by.   Mark’s account of Jesus’ time in Jericho is very brief; we’re told that Jesus and the disciples entered Jericho, and the next thing we’re told is that Jesus left with his disciples and a large crowd in tow.  We’re not told what Jesus did in Jericho, but the mention that a crowd was following him on the way out tells us that whatever he had said or done, it had gotten people’s attention.  Meanwhile, Bartimaeus was by the side of the road, and while Bartimaeus’ eyes had failed him, his ears were working just fine, thank you very much.  He could hear a commotion and asked what was going on, and he was told that Jesus was passing his way.  He must previously have heard of the miraculous healings Jesus had done earlier in his ministry – and now Jesus was passing his way.  And so he started shouting, “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!”  And the next words Bartimaeus heard, not from Jesus but from the crowd were “Shut up!”   Perhaps not only from the crowd but from the disciples – at any rate, we’re not told that the disciples did anything to stop the hail of “Shut ups” raining down on Bartimaeus.  But Bartimaeus wasn’t going to be intimidated – his eyes had failed him, but just as his ears worked just fine, his lungs and his mouth worked even better, so instead he shouted louder, over the voices seeking to silence him, “Son of David, have mercy on me!”  And Jesus heard him.  We’re told that Jesus stood still – the procession that had been following him stopped in place – and Jesus said, “Call him here.”  And now where Bartimaeus had heard angry voices, he heard encouraging ones, “Take heart; he is calling you.”  Hey, Bartimaeus, you got Jesus’ attention!  We read that, “Throwing off his cloak” – the cloak that had kept in warm by night and which he had used to beg in the daytime – “Throwing off his cloak, he sprang to his feet.”  Jesus asked him, “What do you want me to do for you?”  And Bartimaeus replied, “My teacher, let me see again.”  So we learn Bartimaeus had not always been blind; he had once been able to see, but now he couldn’t….until that moment.   Jesus said, “Go, your faith has made you well.” We’re told that immediately Bartimaeus regained his sight – and he followed Jesus on the way, leaving his cloak behind, because he would no longer be begging for his daily bread.
I wonder what it was like for Bartimaeus when he was able to see again.  Remember, he had once been able to see before, and so before his healing, he had memories of what the world had once looked like to him.  I wonder whether those memories had faded as the darkness engulfed his field of vision, or whether they had become even more vivid as he struggled to hold onto them against the darkness.  And while he was overjoyed to see again, I wonder how he responded to what he saw.  Voices that he recognized connected with faces that now looked older – faces now heavily lined with age, hair gone gray – older than what he remembered from before.  While the major landmarks of his world likely hadn’t changed, perhaps Jericho was now a larger city than what he remembered from before.  While he was overjoyed to see again, might Bartimaeus in some cases have preferred his memories of the past to the realities to which his eyes were now opened? 
This text from Mark comes up in the lectionary every three years, and always on the last Sunday in October.  Since in our tradition the last Sunday of October is Reformation Sunday, in past years I’ve tried to connect the restoration of Bartimaeus’ sight to Reformers’ vision of a more faithful church – and how the Reformers, like Bartimaeus, were shouted down by those in authority.  In so doing, I’ve also preached that the work of Reformation is never done, that more than once the heirs to the Reformation themselves needed to be reformed – and those heirs themselves shouted down those who later pointed out the need for ongoing change -  that we in the church have been called time and again over the centuries from our captivity to the past and from our self-serving dreams to the vision of the reign of God as proclaimed by Jesus and the earliest Christians.
However, in those past years, we hadn’t just gone through a week in which pipe bombs were mailed to political leaders and a news organization.  In those past years, we hadn’t just gone through a day in which a synagogue in our own state had been invaded by a gunman armed, in the words of a statement from the national offices of the United Church of Christ, with an assault weapon, several guns, and hate.  At the Tree of Life Synagogue in Pittsburgh’s Squirrel Hill neighborhood, while worship was in progress, including a bris ceremony celebrating new life, the birth of a baby boy, weaponized hatred invaded what should have been safe space, as at least 11 were killed and six others, including four police officers, were injured.[1]   We’ve seen the events of this past week unfold in our media, seen things we’ve never wanted to see, things that once we see them, we can’t un-see them, as the saying goes.  But we wish we could, or at least I wish I could.  it’s tempting, at least to me, to want to ask Jesus to do a reverse Bartimaeus, to plead with Jesus and to ask Jesus, “I can’t deal with all this.  I don’t want to see this.  My teacher, make me blind again.”
Bartimaeus was blind from natural causes – perhaps from age, perhaps from disease.  But there are many ways to be blind, and I think we all – every last one of us, including me - live with a certain amount of self-imposed blindness.  Connected as we are around the globe not only by radio and television but the internet and social media, our human minds just can’t begin to take in the full enormity of all that is happening, for good and ill, around the globe, in our country, or even in our city. Our brains aren’t designed for the task, plain and simple.  Indeed, we would have to be God in order to process all that, and we’re not, so we can’t.  We naturally focus on what is in front of us, and so the death of one child whose parents we know impacts us far more than the deaths of tens of thousands of children around the globe from hunger, war, and weather-related calamities.  It’s been said that the death of one child near us is a tragedy, while the death of tens of thousands of children across the globe is a statistic. 
However, sometimes we turn away even from unpleasant realities that are right in our face, because we don’t want to deal with the implications.  If your home has ever been invaded by pests such as fleas or roaches, intellectually you may know that if you see a flea on your leg or a roach skittering across your kitchen floor, there are many more hiding in the carpet or walls nearby.  And yet you don’t want to deal with it, even though you also know the situation will become so much worse if you ignore it, and so sooner or later – hopefully sooner - you call the exterminator.  Or I would refer to coal miners who carried a canary into the mines with them, knowing that if the canary died from the effects of toxic air in the mines, they’d be next if they stayed much longer.  So the death of the canary pointed to something larger.
It’s like that in our community life, in our national life.  The events of this week, the bombs sent earlier in the week, yesterday’s shootings, horrific as they are, point beyond themselves to a greater sickness in our national life.  Look on them as dead canaries, telling us that the atmosphere in our country has gone toxic.  For example, Robert Bowers, the gunman whose weaponized hatred claimed lives at the Tree of Life Synagogue, was consumed by hatred of Jews.  It was an obsession with him.  But he was also triggered by immigration in general, and more specifically recent news commentary about the caravan of immigrants making its way northward through Mexico.  He had heard about the Hebrew Immigrant Aid Society, HIAS for short – a group that lives out the mandate in the Hebrew Scriptures, what in our Bibles is called the Old Testament, from Leviticus 19:33-34, which states in part that “the alien among you shall be at the citizen among you.”  Mr. Bowers thought, rightly or wrongly, I don’t know, that HIAS was aiding and assisting the caravan, and more broadly that Jews were bringing what Bowers called “hostile invaders” to dwell among us.  Hours before heading to the synagogue, locked and loaded, Bowers wrote on the social media website “Gab”, ““HIAS likes to bring invaders in that kill our people. I can’t sit by and watch my people get slaughtered. Screw your optics, I’m going in.”[2]
Bartimaeus told Jesus, “My teacher, let me see again.”  I said earlier that after this week I’m tempted to tell Jesus, “My teacher, let me go blind again.”   It’s a choice facing each of us – seeing, with all the untold beauty and horror that may entail, or blindness.  Which choice will we make?  Some have deliberately chosen blindness.  In some of the fever swamps of the internet and elsewhere, some speculated that the attack on the synagogue was a so-called false flag attack made by Jews but blamed on others in order to create sympathy for the Jewish community.[3]  Similar speculation took place about the bomb mailings, that they were false flag attacks; in fact, a coworker at my day job made a $100 bet to anyone who would take him up on it that the pipe bomb mailings were false flag attacks – just hours before the arrest was made of the perpetrator.   And more broadly, many look on these incidents merely as one-off attacks by isolated individuals – which, from where I sit, looks a bit like speculating that the dead canary in the miner’s cage just happened to die of old age.  Or perhaps treating that dead canary as if it were still alive, like the supposedly pining parrot in Monty Python’s famous dead parrot sketch.
Much of today’s political discourse is driven by hatred and fear.   The political atmosphere in our country has gone toxic.  Dead canaries abound, and not just from the two attacks this week.   But, as Scripture reminds us over and over, faith, hope, and love abide, and the greatest of these is love – and perfect love casts out fear.  I’m not speaking of the soft, romantic love of flowers and candlelight, but a tough and durable love that reminds that our lives are connected in what the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King in his Letter from a Birmingham Jail called “an inescapable network of mutuality, tied in a single garment of destiny”[4], that “whatever affects one directly, affects all indirectly”[5], that finally we are our brothers’ and sisters’ keeper.  It is true that we are called upon to speak truth to entrenched power and to confront injustice, even if it means whipping a few moneychangers and tipping over a few tables.   In my own modest way, I’d like to think I’ve done that myself from time to time – I’ve been known to attend a protest or march occasionally – even though I’m more likely to bring a sign than a whip.  It’s a very different thing entirely to threaten the lives of our opponents, however reprehensible we may find them.  There is a clear and bright line marking the difference between political advocacy and street protests and civil disobedience on one hand, and murder of political opponents on the other.  If we as a nation get to a place where we can’t respect that clear, bright line in our heart of hearts, then we as a nation truly have gone blind.
Bartimaeus asked Jesus, “My teacher, let me see again.”  And Jesus said, “Go, your faith has made you well.”  May God’s faith, hope, and love heal us from the toxicity that swirls around us, restore our health, and heal our souls.  Amen.


[1] https://www.nytimes.com/2018/10/27/us/active-shooter-pittsburgh-synagogue-shooting.html
[2] https://www.nbcnews.com/news/us-news/pittsburgh-synagogue-shooting-suspect-threatened-jewish-groups-pushed-migrant-caravan-n925256
[3] For example, http://themillenniumreport.com/2018/10/false-flag-mass-shooting-pittsburgh-synagogue-targeted-by-deep-state-with-another-white-male-patsy/
[4] https://web.cn.edu/kwheeler/documents/Letter_Birmingham_Jail.pdf
[5] Ibid


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