Thirtieth Sunday of Ordinary Time (B) – Mark 10:46-52
He threw aside his cloak, sprang up, and came to Jesus. – Mark 10:50
At the time of the year when visions of pumpkins, candy corn and black cats dance in our heads, it may be easy to miss the context of our Gospel for this Sunday. It takes place not in fall but in early spring. Passover is imminent. Jesus and his disciples are nearing Jerusalem. This is the last event Mark gives us in Jesus’ life before Holy Week. Everything that Jesus has been saying about his life and purpose is about to be fulfilled. Jesus will be put to the test. So will his disciples.
The context makes this story, the healing of blind Bartimaeus, very important for our understanding of what Jesus is about to do in Jerusalem and what it means for us. Note that, in Mark’s Gospel, Jesus heals a blind man in Bethsaida just before he begins his journey to Jerusalem (8:22-26). It is an unusual healing in that it happens in stages. When Jesus first touches the man’s eyes, the man sees, but not clearly: “I see people looking like trees and walking”. Then, Jesus touches the man’s eyes a second time, and the man is completely cured. So, too, Jesus’ disciples would see, but not clearly, during this entire journey. They can’t see clearly because they are missing one piece of the puzzle, so to speak.
This time, another blind man, Bartimaeus, is cured. It happens right away, with no need for a second effort. Jesus is about to show his love and faithfulness to the end, by willingly accepting suffering and death on the cross for us. The cross and resurrection are the missing piece. Anyone who would become a disciple of Jesus needs to welcome – at least to a degree – the mystery of the cross and resurrection of Jesus into their own lives.
One image that may help us do this is the cloak of Bartimaeus.
The cloak, you say? How can that help?
Let’s look at that cloak, what it was for Bartimaeus, and what it meant for him to throw it aside before going to Jesus. Then, we can see if we have something similar in our lives, and ask ourselves how willing we are to cast it aside, even for Jesus.
We find Bartimaeus in Jericho. Jericho, geographically, sits at a much lower elevation than Jerusalem, and is closer to the desert. It is, then, warmer than Jerusalem would be. Bartimaeus might need a cloak at night, but would not need it for warmth during the day – even in early spring.
So, why does he have it?
Bartimaeus is blind and a beggar when we encounter him. Apparently, he has no extended family to care for his needs. He would need his cloak at night for warmth and protection. During the day, it would be spread out to receive the hoped-for generosity of pilgrims passing through town on their way to Jerusalem for Passover. His cloak, then, was his only protection and symbolized his position in society. He was disabled and had no family support. He needed help from others to survive. He was, in our language, a victim of society.
On the other hand, Bartimaeus’ cloak also represented his effort to exploit the situation so that he could survive. The Law of Moses, over and over again, commanded Israel to have a special care for the widow, the stranger, and the orphan – precisely those who lacked the support of an extended family. Bartimaeus’ cloak announced to all who passed by that he was one of those whom Israel was obliged to help. It was one of the few power plays that someone like him had in his own day.
Let’s pause for a moment and ask ourselves this question: do I have a similar cloak? What is my place in society? How have I been treated by others over the years? How do I see myself within society? How have I used my status in order to get what I need and want?
Our cloak could have something to do with being poor, or disabled, or having suffered abuse or oppression of some kind. Our cloak could also be about pride in our family or societal status, or our achievements, or gifts – and how we have used those to get what we want and need. Our cloak is neither all bad nor all good. It is a blending of events and feelings and actions and perceptions that we have been weaving for ourselves all our lives. Whether we love it or not, it’s the one we have. The one we’re most familiar with.
Let’s go back to the story. Bartimaeus finds out that Jesus is passing by. He calls out, “Son of David, have pity on me!” People nearby try to shut him up, but he keeps calling out to Jesus. Finally, he is told, “Take courage; get up, Jesus is calling you!”
What will Bartimaeus do? Specifically, what will he do with his cloak now?
In last Sunday’s Gospel, we saw James and John face that same question. They, too, had their cloaks. They had chosen to follow Jesus, but yet their cloaks came with them. They chose to try to exploit their status to their advantage by asking for the prime seats in the Kingdom – not unlike what Bartimaeus had done with his cloak. They missed the point. Jesus cannot help those who merely exploit. Jesus can help only those who trust, and only to the extent that they trust. The true disciple must become like a child, who hasn’t yet woven such a cloak, and trust fully in Jesus.
Bartimaeus, on the other hand, “threw aside his cloak”. Threw it aside. His protection from the cold. The cover for his vulnerability. His means of both announcing and exploiting his status. His victimhood. All of it. He tossed it aside, and came to Jesus. Note that he is still physically blind at this point. He has not yet experienced a physical miracle, and yet he is already showing a remarkable willingness to trust. To be vulnerable. To let the schemes and the armor of his life all go. He only asks, “I want to see”. He is physically cured, of course, but this is almost redundant.
Finally, we are told, “he followed Jesus on the way”. With the amazing faith, receptivity and vulnerability that Bartimaeus showed, he also showed himself ready to be a disciple of Jesus. Having shed his old cloak, he was ready for a new one, given by Jesus himself. He follows Jesus on the way, even though the way leads through Calvary. It doesn’t matter. Bartimaeus has found the way. His old cloak is no longer needed. It would only be an obstacle now.
Jesus himself would be the prime example of this. If we continue reading mark’s Gospel after this passage, we move immediately into the story of Palm Sunday. There we find – in a fascinating way – the image of the cloak continuing. The disciples lay their cloaks on the colt Jesus will ride. As Jesus approaches Jerusalem, people spread their cloaks on the road.
Well, aren’t they doing what Bartimaeus did? Isn’t this a good thing? Not necessarily.
They aren’t abandoning their cloaks, like Bartimaeus did, out of sheer trust in Jesus. Rather, they are placing on Jesus their expectations as to what a Son of David or Messiah ought to do for them. Jesus, as he approaches his Passion, will put every cloak aside, like Bartimaeus did. He will trust fully in the Father, and invite his disciples to trust fully in him. Jesus will declare, by his own suffering and death, that the works of God are best done through total faith, openness, vulnerability, and weakness. Jesus will declare, by his resurrection, that those who abandon their cloaks for him will find themselves able to see, able to trust, able to live cloakless lives of courageous love and hope, because the Spirit of Christ will dwell in their hearts.
Spend a little time with this Gospel reading. Be aware of whatever need you may have for healing or grace or mercy. Cry out with Bartimaeus, asking for that mercy, aware that your cloak – though it may have gotten you this far – can’t give you what you need now. Then, when you hear that Jesus is calling you – maybe, just maybe, you may find the courage to toss aside your cloak, run to Jesus, and say, “Lord, I want to see”. Then you, too, will find yourself willingly, even joyfully, following Jesus on the way.