The story of Bartimaeus the blind beggar comes from Mark 10:46-52.  Jesus and the disciples were entering Jericho when Jesus heard a blind man crying out, “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me.”  Calling Jesus “Son of David” meant the blind man understood Jesus to be the Messiah, the Savior, which most of the crowd and even disciples did not totally understand yet.  So ironically the blind man, the only one who can’t see, is the one who actually sees.

When Jesus calls him to come, the blind man throws off his cloak, and leaps up.  Since blind beggars use their cloaks to collect any offerings tossed their way, Bartemaeus was surrendering what he had by tossing it aside to come to Jesus. Then Jesus asks the question, “What do you want me to do for you?”  He responds, “I want to see.”  Jesus says, “Your faith has made you whole.”  The word here in Greek for “made whole” means salvation.  Bartemaeus receives the gift of salvation through eyes of faith.

I saw this sculpture in a monastery in Turin, Italy.  It is one of the most dramatic portrayals of Jesus’ gift of salvation that I have seen.  All we have to do to receive this gift is believe.

During this journey of Lent we will be hearing the questions Jesus asks of us.  In “Letters to a Young Poet”, Ranier Marie Rilke says,

“Be patient toward all that is unsolved in your heart and try to love the questions themselves, like locked rooms and like books that are now written in a very foreign tongue.  Do not now seek the answers which cannot be given you because you would not be able to live them.  And the point is, to live everything.  Live the questions now.  Perhaps you will then gradually, without noticing it, live along some distant day into the answer.”

We look to Jesus with eyes of faith, even when we can’t yet see….and we live into the question. Once when I was on a personal spiritual retreat, I found this picture in a magazine and cut it out to glue into my journal.

Something about this picture brought tears to my eyes.  It seemed to be something I wanted, but I didn’t fully understand why.  All I knew was that it had something to do with the light and warmth, and intimacy radiating from inside the small cabin.  With eyes of faith, I live into the question Jesus asks, “What do you want me to do for you?”

Something to think about…

How would you answer Jesus’ question?

Look again at the sculpture of the crucifixion scene.  What does it have to do with what you want Jesus to do for you?

nk