Trust God-with-us to give you and the world mercy and healing.

Pr. Joseph G. Crippen
The Twenty-second Sunday after Pentecost, Lect. 30 B
Texts: Mark 10:46-52; Jeremiah 31:7-9; Psalm 126

Beloved in Christ, grace to you, and peace in the name of the Father, and of the + Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen

Trust doesn’t automatically come with time.

Peter, James, and John have been with Jesus for three years, and in this last journey on the way to Jerusalem have witnessed Jesus’ glorious transfiguration and Jesus’ wondrous healings, have been taught and urged to follow the self-giving way of Christ, and yet, as we’ve seen, still don’t trust Jesus with their lives.

But this beggar, whose real name we don’t know, who hasn’t met Jesus before, only heard of him, finds a trust in Jesus that not only brings him healing, it sets him on the way of Christ.

Trust, for Bartimaeus, came in no time at all.

When he hears a big commotion and learns Jesus of Nazareth is passing by, he focuses on getting to Jesus if he can. This blind man sees more clearly than most in this Gospel.

He shouts over the crowd, “Son of David, have mercy on me.” He gives Jesus a Messianic title, saying “have mercy on me, Messiah.” Show me empathy and compassion and help me.

Others try to tell him to be quiet, maybe to protect Jesus from bother, or maybe they’re just mean, but Bartimaeus refuses to stop. He shouts more loudly.

That’s trust. To know that somehow God is working in this Jesus and can help. And to do whatever he can to get Jesus’ attention. To receive mercy.

Bartimaeus trusted God-with-us would listen.

And Jesus honored his trust. In the chaos of a noisy crowd traipsing down the road, he heard the cry for mercy and stood still. Listened. Jesus has a lot on his mind and heart, heading to his death in Jerusalem. But here, he stops and is still so he can hear a cry for help.

As it happens, God-with-us listens even if our questions are the wrong ones. James and John wanted Jesus to do them a favor, and he listened. In fact, as we heard last week, he asked them the same question he asked Bartimaeus: “What do you want me to do for you?”

They wanted privileged roles. They received a call to lose everything and serve others. Bartimaeus wanted mercy. Healing. That’s the blessing he received. God gives what you truly need.

We don’t need to knock down the others to admire Bartimaeus.

But at this point in Mark’s Gospel, it’s only this outsider who’d only ever heard of Jesus, who trusts Jesus with his life, not the long-time followers.

Peter, James, and John are trusted followers, even leaders. But they’re distracted. Maybe by that privileged position inside Jesus’ circle. Peter doesn’t trust Jesus’ plan to suffer and die. James and John don’t trust that they’re honored and want proof. We know what it is to be distracted by our privilege and status and find the path of Christ hard to follow.

Bartimaeus just knows his need, trusts in the One God sent, and asks for mercy. And he receives healing, and – this is really important – then goes “on the way” with Jesus after this. For the early Church, “the way” meant the path of Christ. Newly-healed Bartimaeus trusts enough to walk it with Jesus.

Now, Peter, James, and John will learn to trust Jesus with their lives. Will learn to ask for mercy themselves, and, healed, will walk faithfully with Christ in their healing. But for now, Bartimaeus is the one to model yourself after.

So, can you find his honesty inside? Look into your heart and see what you need?

What would mercy from the Triune God look like in your life? Can you let go of whatever façade you want to put between you and God and be honest with God and yourself? And trust God’s Messiah to have mercy on you?

You might need to keep asking God for mercy even when others tell you to stop. Folks will tell you God doesn’t care, or that your problems aren’t as bad as someone else’s so you shouldn’t bother God. It takes a little trust to shout over that, “have mercy on me, O God.”

But know this: just as Jesus, God-with-us, stood still to listen to Bartimaeus’ cry and called him to his side, so the Triune God will stop and stand still to hear your cry and call to you. If you trust enough to let go of yourself and call out.

Be ready for the question, though: What do you want me to do for you?

Bartimaeus knew exactly what to answer: “Let me see again.” If you have prayed and thought about what mercy and healing you need from God, name it when God asks. Speak it aloud. Trust God will hear and answer.

But don’t forget that God-with-us is in this world for all creation, not just you. You can ask mercy for yourself and find the trust to ask for more. Today Jeremiah promises that God will heal a whole nation, bring back the scattered exiles to their home, on a straight, safe path. The psalmist sings that God’s whole people went out planting with tears, but are harvesting in joy because God restored them.

All the suffering that fills our world, the structural sins and systems we decry and want dismantled but also participate in because we live in this world, all this God will heal, too. God will work in us to bring all people home and end all the things that cause us and so many to fear and despair.

What do you want me to do for you? God asks. Bartimaeus says: don’t be afraid to answer. Jeremiah says, “and don’t be afraid to think big, too.”

Do you doubt that God will heal you? Heal this world?

That’s fair. It’s a big ask. But, before he met Jesus, in all the years he sat by the roadside, how confident was Bartimaeus that he would see again? How confident were the Jewish exiles, decades after being ripped from all they knew and dragged into bondage in Babylon, that they’d ever see home again?

But Bartimaeus got his sight. And the exiles were gathered and brought home. God-with-us brings healing and mercy. Trust that. And you, too, will be made well. Along with the whole creation. So all may join Bartimaeus on the way with Christ, and know abundant life.

In the name of Jesus.  Amen

Christ our Servant shapes us in our lives as servants, helping us every step of the path of Christ, for the sake of the world.

Pr. Joseph G. Crippen
The Twenty-first Sunday after Pentecost, Lect. 29 B
Text: Mark 10:(32-34) 35-45

Beloved in Christ, grace to you, and peace in the name of the Father, and of the + Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen

We’ve finally come to the place Mark’s been leading us in his Gospel for weeks now.

There’s one more story in chapter 10 after today, a healing we’ll hear next week. Then Mark enters Holy Week, the palms, the betrayal, the death, the resurrection. We walked that with Mark last spring.

Ever since Jesus started traveling to Jerusalem and we joined him in chapter 8, he’s been telling his followers, telling us, telling you, that he’s heading there to be beaten and killed. And to rise from death. And he’s been calling his followers, calling us, calling you, to take this same Christ path of self-giving love, letting go, losing for the sake of others.

And his followers, including me, including you, have been struggling with this. We’ve seen Peter and John fail to get it, and frankly, it’s hard for us, too.

Today, after all this, days from Holy Week, two of his trusted leaders still don’t get it. They respond to Jesus’ latest warning of his imminent suffering by asking for the honored seats when he comes in glory. Clueless.

Maybe the fact that these two important ones still struggle after weeks of instruction and guidance from Jesus should make us feel better. But it doesn’t change that we are also struggling with Jesus.

It’s really hard following someone who leads on such a challenging path.

The writer to the Hebrews calls Jesus the “pioneer” of our faith. Pioneers go ahead, blaze a trail, lead. Jesus leads the path of Christ for all of us, modeling the self-giving love, facing suffering and death ahead of us.

But following someone who’s that focused on a path is not easy. I once was traveling in tandem with someone who drove through a yellow light that changed to red for me. We were supposed to drive together for 8 hours. Instead, I spent 8 hours wondering if I’d ever catch up.

That’s what following Christ on this path feels like sometimes. Like we’re children following a long-legged, determined parent, always trying to catch up. Stumbling, getting tired. Not really handling the path well. Frightened of the next steps, and our leader is so far ahead and has done it so well, we’re alone in this. It’s lonely and frightening and confusing and daunting and overwhelming to always feel behind.

The thing is, Jesus isn’t actually ahead of us on the path.

The last word of Jesus in these chapters about losing like Jesus we heard today: “For the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life a ransom for many.”

Christ Jesus, the Son of God, is your servant. Not ahead of you, making you fear you’ll be left behind. At your feet, washing them. At this table, offering you food for life. It’s not just suffering coming next for these disciples in Holy Week. Jesus will show them he’s there for them on this path. As their servant. As our servant. As your servant.

What Hebrews fully says is Jesus is the “pioneer and perfecter of our faith.” (Heb. 12:2) The one who completes your faith, helps your discipleship, shapes your servant life.

All this self-giving love, this servant path of Christ we keep hearing about, is made possible by the Great Servant, our God-with-us, who completes in us, in you, this life of faith.

He does this as he did for these disciples, first by teaching.

All this time as they walked to Jerusalem, Jesus prepared them for what was ahead for him, and for them if they follow. But this whole journey Jesus wasn’t impatiently running ahead, chewing them out for not keeping up. He just kept at it, teaching them, helping them understand his way. Correcting them when they misunderstood.

Yes, it was hard sometimes when he corrected. Ask Peter. But his love was always there. Look at James and John today. They’re asking for a ridiculous thing, they’re completely disconnected from Jesus’ focus. But Jesus is gentle with them. He just says they don’t know what they’re asking. And they don’t – they think they can handle what he’s facing, his cup, his baptism.

Of course they don’t know Jesus will struggle with that cup himself in Gethsemane, and in the baptism of his crucifixion will cry out in abandonment. But Jesus just says, “Yes, you will experience the same as I.”

That’s your Servant Teacher: firm, clear, never wavering from the path, but constantly trying to reach you with different images and words, always loving you, even when you struggle repeatedly with the lesson.

That kindness comes because Christ also has empathy for your weakness, not just lessons.

Even human priests can have this gift, Hebrews says today, but Christ Jesus does completely. He lived as one of us, knew how hard it can be to be faithful. He will soon undergo a great trial of his path in Gethsemane. He knows what it is to fear, to wish to avoid painful consequences of sacrificial love.

So, Hebrews says, he “is able to deal gently with the ignorant and wayward, since he himself is subject to weakness.” Your Servant Christ is at your side fully understanding your fear, your weakness, your confusion as you seek to be faithful. Empathizing with you, and even more, strengthening you. Healing you, as Hebrews says.

And Christ your Servant knows the full pain and suffering of loving as God loves.

In fact, he knows it far worse than most of us ever will. A few days after this promise, he goes to the cross. To find power in powerlessness, healing in self-giving love, grace in losing himself for everyone.

The Servant who walks by your side has experienced it all. When you suffer trying to be faithful, when you are hurt because you refuse to hurt others, when you lose because you won’t live a life that defeats other lives, you are always upheld by the Pioneer who did it first, who now completes your faith by strengthening you in your suffering and difficulty.

James and John didn’t know what they were facing, but Jesus did.

And Jesus knows the same about you and me. In baptism we are joined to Christ’s path for the sake of the world. Anointed and set apart to be servants to the world on behalf of God, bearers of God’s love and mercy and justice. It’s a costly path, as we follow Christ and walk alongside others as servants ourselves. Empathizing with their weakness and struggle, because we know weakness and struggle. Sharing their suffering because we know that it costs to let go in order to follow.

But grace upon grace: your Servant, God-with-us, is always at your side, walking beside you. Helping complete your faith and your discipleship. Every step of the way.

In the name of Jesus.  Amen