Slowly, it feels like a fall. Rainer Maria Rilke’s poem titled “Autumn” goes like this:
The leaves fall, fall as from far,
Like distant gardens withered in the heavens;
They fall with slow and lingering descent.
And in the nights the heavy Earth, too, falls
From out the stars into the Solitude.
Thus all doth fall. This hand of mine must fall
And lo! the other one:—it is the law.
But there is One who holds this falling
Infinitely softly in His hands.
Rilke’s poem describes not only the leaves but all creation as “falling.” The poem concludes with a promise for those who “have this falling-sickness none withstands. / And yet there’s One whose gently-holding hands / this universal falling can’t fall through” (Rainer Maria Rilke, Letters to a Young Poet & The Possibility of Being, New York: MJF Books, 2000, p. 11).
All creation is held securely in the hands of God. In the words of the prophet Jeremiah: “Proclaim, give praise, and say, ‘Save, O Lord, your people, the remnant of Israel’” (Jeremiah 31:7).
The word for today is restoration. Both the Old Testament reading and the psalm speak of God’s restoration of the people of Israel. Going from sorrow and exile into joy and community. The gospel tells the story of Jesus healing Bartimaeus, restoring his sight in response to his faith. Today we do not have the same understanding of “clean” and “unclean” people; however, those who are sick still need restoration. Some people are hospitalized for extended periods and need to be restored to the community. There are folks in nursing homes who long for the connections they once had to a worshiping community. There are people in prison who are cut off. There are even people who have been hurt or disappointed by the church who need restoration.
Why do you come here today? What do you want God to do for you? Last week in the Gospel lesson as the disciples James and John are arguing about who is the greatest, Jesus asks them what do you want me to do for you? And they want one to sit on his left and one on his right in glory. In the gospel lesson for today of blind Bartimaeus, Jesus said to him, “What do you want me to do for you?”
God does not expect us to abandon or ignore our grief at the door of the worship space. What pain have we carried with us into worship? Where is God in our personal and communal suffering? What would it look like to hold space to lament the world and turmoil?
This same Jesus, the letter to the Hebrews reminds us, is our great high priest who continually restores us to the right relationship with God. This hope of restoration is echoed in the reading from Jeremiah. Here God promises to gather and restore the people of Israel from their exile.
We rehearse God’s promise of restoration as we pray, praise, and worship God. Much of what happens in the church and here in worship is concerned with restoration. We began worship today with the same words of blind Bartimaeus: “Lord, have mercy.” In reading Scripture, in sharing the meal, in confession and forgiveness, we are restored to wholeness (and holiness) with God and with one another. There is the power of change in our thoughts, in our hearts, in our minds, in God. In the sharing of the peace, we act out the restoration and reconciliation we all need. In the Lord’s Prayer, we ask, “forgive us our sins as we forgive those who sin against us.” This is a plea for restoration! This restoration is not through our merit but through the love of Christ and the faith we have been given.
How long has Bartimaeus waited to be made well? How long has he waited to hear that Jesus has drawn near? Sometimes in our waiting, we grow weary or inattentive. Sometimes we get stuck like broken records in our cycles of what we expect. We can assume this is how life is enacted. The crowd feels the tearing at the social fabric when Bartimaeus cries to Jesus. They immediately try to shush him. Perhaps they, too, feel the chaos in this blind beggar’s shouts.
When Jesus calls Bartimaeus to him, he does not reprimand him or remind him of his place. He does nothing to quiet Bartimaeus or restore order. And he certainly doesn’t put the onlookers back at ease.
Instead, he asks Bartimaeus, “What do you want me to do for you?” Jesus makes no presumptions. He doesn’t give Bartimaeus money or food. He doesn’t offer him sight. He invites Bartimaeus to tell him, in his own words, what mercy he is shouting out for, in defiance of all social expectations that he just sits quietly by the road.
Bartimaeus tells Jesus that he wants to be healed of his blindness. And so Jesus heeds this call and gives him the sight he so desires. This is not just one more healing story in Mark’s Gospel; it’s one in which the person healed has a name. He dares to cry out for mercy—and then shout it even louder when everyone around him is telling him to keep his mouth shut.
In the very same sentence in which he is healed, Bartimeaus joins Jesus: “Immediately he regained his sight and followed him on the way.”
If Jesus stood before you and asked: “What do you want me to do for you?” What is your response this day? To sit in glory, to be healed, to find peace, to know love, to see more clearly.
This is the second healing of restored sight in Mark’s Gospel and it is widely suggested that theologically the restored sight ultimately speaks to being saved and healed from death and points to Christ’s resurrection. Let us boldly approach Jesus this day with our hearts, our minds, and our whole lives in faith.
On this Reformation Sunday, we call to mind Martin Luther and all reformers who dared to stop the social order to call out for God’s grace and mercy for healing and reform in church and society.
John Chrysostom writes at the end of the third century: “The blind man could not see the light of truth, but in his soul, he could feel his presence, and with the desire of his heart he laid hold of what his eye could not see. He hears them saying it is Jesus of Nazareth. They who could see made an answer from what was known by common report. But the blind man makes known what he had learned from the truth itself, for he cries out, “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me.” On him, Jesus, the sun of justice has arisen. The rays of this spiritual sun spread out in all directions. Since our thoughts and purposes are the windows of our soul, when you open wide your heart, you receive a larger, more generous, divine favor; when you narrow your soul, you can but receive a less abundant grace. Open wide and lay bare your heart and soul to God, that God’s splendor may enter into you.”
