The Twenty-third Sunday after Pentecost-the Rev Melanie Lemburg
The Very Rev Melanie Dickson Lemburg
23rd
Sunday after Pentecost-Proper 25B
October 27, 2024
This morning, we’re going to engage with
the gospel story in way where I will invite you ponder aspects of your own life
with some guided questions.[i] Feel free to close your eyes as you listen,
if that is helpful.
Bartimaeus is a beggar, blind and alone
while surrounded by a sea of people. How
are you like Bartimaeus today? What are
the things that are keeping you from seeing Jesus?
He hears of Jesus and for the first time
in a long time, he begins to hope—hope that someone will truly see him, help
him, show him a way out of begging toward wholeness and belonging. What tiny bud of hope blooms in you?
Bartimaeus calls out to Jesus, “Mercify
me!” And the crowd tells him to be
quiet; don’t make a scene; know your place.
What are the voices who tell you not to change, not to hope?
And he almost listens to them, obeys
them, not taking the chance. Because
sometimes it’s just too painful to hope.
What part does your own voice play in your silencing, in the silencing
of your hope?
But that tiny bud of hope has fully
flowered in Bartimaeus and can no longer be ignored, so he calls out again,
this time even louder: “Mercify me!”
And Jesus stops.
And he turns.
But Bartimaeus can’t see any of this.
And Jesus tells the crowd to call
Bartimaeus.
The very ones who had held him back,
suddenly shift to help him saying: “Take heart!
He is calling you!”
And in that moment, Bartimaeus has a
tremendous choice: to stay there in the
safety of his cloak—his blanket, shelter, source of income, his place of
home-or to leave it behind so he can answer the Lord’s call. What comforts do you cling to that you think
sustain you, that you need to throw off so you can move forward as Jesus calls
you to grow, to change, to deepen, to be healed?
Where might Jesus be inviting you to
step forward, to move toward him in trust, even when you cannot see the path
before you?
Bartimaeus makes his way to Jesus, and
Jesus asks him: “What do you want me to do for you?”
What do you want Jesus to do for
you? How would you answer him?
Bartimaeus doesn’t ask for Jesus to make
him not be a beggar anymore; he goes deeper, asking Jesus to “open these eyes,
Lord, long closed.”[ii]
What do you need to see
differently? What are your impediments
to seeing, to trusting? (Or what blocks you from seeing, from trusting?)
What lies below the surface of your
longing? Dive deep for it, like a shiny
penny in the deep end of the pool, your hand outstretched to claim it.
Jesus tells Bartimaeus that he can go
home now; his faith has made him well; his trust has saved him. Where is the healing, the hope bubbling up
from within you?
When Bartimaeus regains his sight, he
doesn’t go home. Instead he follows
Jesus on the way, along the path of discipleship toward Jerusalem and the
cross. What new direction will your
faithfulness to Jesus lead you into next?
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