At first the story of Bartimaeus in the Gospel of Mark seems like just another one of Jesus’ healing miracles. Bartimaeus is blind. He calls out to Jesus. Jesus heals him. Bartimaeus becomes a follower of Jesus. It’s not an uncommon story in the gospels. Someone calls to Jesus for help and Jesus heals them.
But the story of Bartimaeus is different and that difference is in the details. Mark’s Gospel says that Bartimaeus calls out to Jesus “loudly.” Mark 10:47 says that Bartimaeus “began to shout.” And when he is told to be quiet by the people around him, Mark 10:48 says that “he cried out even more loudly.”
Here’s where the details begin to make the story interesting. Bartimaeus calls out to Jesus. We think we know what’s going to happen next. We always think we know Jesus. We fully expect him to walk right over to Bartimaeus and heal him—but he doesn’t. Instead he sends the disciples over to Bartimaeus to fetch him.
Why? Why doesn’t Jesus go over to Bartimaeus himself?
When the disciples approach Bartimaeus in Mark 10:49, they say to him, “Take heart; get up, he is calling you.”
In other words, they are saying, “Hey, be quiet for a second. He hears you. He’s calling to you. Let’s go.”
The implication here is that Bartimaeus is so loud with his pleas, that he cannot hear Jesus call to him. That is why Jesus sends the disciples.
It was Os Guinness in his book The Call that got me thinking about Bartimaeus. Guinness focuses on the words, “Take heart … he is calling to you,” and that made me wonder how often we pray to God in the same way Bartimaeus prayed.
Have I been praying so loudly that I can't hear God’s response?
Lately, I have not been a good listener. If I were still in Kindergarten, there would be no gold star next to my name for listening skills. I have missed the last two weeks of Centering Prayer and I have not been walking the labyrinth as often as I should.
So after reading about Bartimaeus, I hopped in the car last Saturday and headed to the church to walk the labyrinth. As I stood at the entrance, I made a promise to God. “God,” I said, “I don’t know what it is that I need. You know that better than me, so I promise to be quiet and listen for a while and please show me what it is that I need to be doing.”
And I started walking.
I walked and I noticed all the things I normally do. I saw how several of the Simpson Stoppers no longer needed the green metal brace to hold them up straight. I noticed for the thousandth time how the path always seems to be headed right to the center but then swings out back around for a bit before heading in. I heard the water lapping at the shore. I heard something, probably a lizard, drop through the branches of the tree.
I heard a lot of things.
What I didn’t hear was God.
Nothing profound happened, I’m sad to report. It was just another walk in the labyrinth, just another reminder, if anything, about the point of paths—to get us to where we’re going. But nothing earth shattering.
That was Saturday afternoon.
The dream came early this morning.
In my dream I was driving along AIA, a stretch where I had a clear view of the ocean. A hurricane had brushed the coast and the water had swelled to ghastly heights, twenty-thirty foot high waves churned and rocked the shore. Some of the water had spilled across the highway and before me loomed a slightly smaller version of Niagara Falls.
Ahead of me, a friend of mine began to drive her car to the water. I knew she could navigate it. I wasn’t afraid for her, but I was absolutely terrified for myself. Navigating those waters was beyond me.
So I turned the car around.
But I didn’t head home. Instead, I turned down Berkeley and headed for South Patrick Drive. I would still get to where I was going. I was just going to take a different road. No worries.
When I woke up, I knew exactly what the dream meant. You don’t have to take the same path everyone else takes. Sometimes it takes more courage to realize when it’s time to turn around and find another way, as long as you don’t lose sight of the destination.
What I still don’t know is how this applies to my own life. Is there another path I’m supposed to take? Should I take a different route to work tomorrow? Is it time to call a lawyer about my still broken air conditioning? Or am I missing something in regards to seminary and the fulfilling of my dream to go fulltime?
Take heart … he is calling you.
I feel as blind as Bartimaeus. I can only hope for someone to take my hand and show me the way.
