Mark 10:46-52

If the book of Mark were a Marvel movie, you would know where this scene fits. We’re about an hour in. We’ve passed the mysterious intro and the villain’s early victories, and we’ve watched the flashy battle in the middle where we find out some giant revelation about the superhero. (That was back in chapter 8, when Peter told Jesus, “You are the Christ.”) Now we’re watching the superhero suit-up. In quick succession, over chapters 9 and 10, we see Jesus transfigured, foretelling his death and resurrection, and zooming toward Jerusalem to face the final battle and finish his task. The pace is high. The superhero is primed and ready. We, the audience, are on the edge of our seats, waiting for Jesus to bust into Jerusalem and fling some tables.

But on his way, Jesus has some business to finish.

Chapters 9 and 10 are full of situations flipped on their heads. Even with the Transfiguration and this healing, it’s mostly teaching. Jesus moves quickly but methodically from topic to topic, showing again and again that it isn’t the obvious stuff that makes a difference in the kingdom of God. It’s the overlooked stuff.

What matters when Jesus, Moses, and Elijah are on the mountain? Not tents — obedience.

What matters when a boy shows up with an unclean spirit? Prayer.

Who is the greatest? The child — the last of them. (That comes up twice.)

Outward conformity, physical safety, the difficulties of marriage, riches, family, authority — what really matters to Jesus? What really moves the needle for the kingdom of God? What should you spend your time on, your energy on, your life on?

Whatever priorities seem obvious, think again.

With this background in mind, let’s look again at this roadside. Before we get into it, though, I want to make a couple of my assumptions very clear. I am assuming that Mark, the author, is very smart — and that God, the Scripture-Breather, is smarter. This book is snappy. It’s tight. Right after he finishes this story, Mark is going to start an intricate flow of situations that all interweave and interpret one another to prove the faithlessness of those who only pretend to worship Jesus. Mark’s a h*ccin good writer, guys. So I think this story is not just a fun fact that could have fit anywhere, but a clincher on the message Jesus has been trying to get across to us for the last two chapters. Whatever priorities seem obvious, think again — and let’s think again about this Bartimaeus situation.

Mark 10:46–47 ESV

And they came to Jericho. And as he was leaving Jericho with his disciples and a great crowd, Bartimaeus, a blind beggar, the son of Timaeus, was sitting by the roadside. And when he heard that it was Jesus of Nazareth, he began to cry out and say, “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!”

Someone else can preach on the words, “Son of David.” Suffice to say that Jesus is no longer just maybe John the Baptist or maybe Elijah. Here he is, marching to Jerusalem with a massive crowd, and even a blind beggar knows enough about current events to call him the Messianic heir.

But, then again, a couple verses from now an entire city is going to welcome him that way — and we know how that turned out. Let’s see if this is any different.

Mark 10:48 ESV

And many rebuked him, telling him to be silent. But he cried out all the more, “Son of David, have mercy on me!”

In Mark 9 and 10, it’s valuable to ask about what seems obvious to those around Jesus. When the Pharisees asked about divorce, it seemed obvious that it should be allowed. Jesus said it shouldn’t be. What’s obvious to them here?

Rule 97 of Being a Good Jericho-ian Citizen: Don’t bother the Messiah when he’s about to save the world.

At the height of his popularity, Jesus doesn’t want to talk to a blind guy. So the crowd shushes him. Thankfully, Bartimaeus takes that the way I think Jesus wanted him to take it: He yells louder. And Jesus listens.

Mark 10:49–51 ESV

And Jesus stopped and said, “Call him.” And they called the blind man, saying to him, “Take heart. Get up; he is calling you.” And throwing off his cloak, he sprang up and came to Jesus. And Jesus said to him, “What do you want me to do for you?” And the blind man said to him, “Rabbi, let me recover my sight.”

Jesus stops the crowd. (That’s significant, by the way — he isn’t some figurehead being swept along by the populace who want to make him king. He’s fully in control, not just through sovereign power but through influence. He is truly leading.) He has them call to Bartimaeus. Bartimaeus throws off his garment and comes to him — I love how energetic this is! Bartimaeus is ready. He wants to come. And Jesus wants him near.

“Have mercy on me,” Bartimaeus said — so Jesus asks him: “What does that mean to you?”

Sight. Bartimaeus wants to see. Who knows what his situation was, whether he had a disease or got injured somehow, but it seems that Bartimaeus was once able to see, and he wants to go back to that. He asks to “regain” his sight.

I wonder where that miracle is going to happen.

A couple of chapters ago, we watched Jesus heal another blind man, but it took a little while. Right before Peter confessed Jesus’s true identity, the crowd brought Jesus a blind man. Jesus then led him out of the village, spat on him, asked some diagnostic questions, and then finally healed him and sent him home. The healing happened in stages, and we watched it happen in real time. Is that how Jesus will heal this time?

Mark 10:52 ESV

And Jesus said to him, “Go your way; your faith has made you well.” And immediately he recovered his sight and followed him on the way.

Immediately, he sees! No spitting, no people looking like walking trees — immediate, full health for Bartimaeus. This is exactly what he asked for.

But did you see it? Where did the miracle happen? After Jesus said something, right? It says it: “Immediately he recovered his sight.”

Then tell me this, second-year seminarians: Why does he disobey Jesus?

“Go your way,” Jesus told him. “Go” — I’m not going to hang a lot on that word, but it’s certainly not “Come.” A couple of chapters ago, it meant, “Get behind me, Satan.” Here, I don’t think it means, “Get in line! We’re going to Jerusalem.” I think Jesus is serious: “You can see now, Bartimaeus. You can go, wherever you’d like.”

Where did the miracle happen? Verse fifty-two? Or back in verse forty-seven, when he heard it was Jesus and started crying out? Where did it happen? Up here, in his eyes? Or down here?

A blind man can see now — that’s enormous. I don’t want to downplay it. But what’s bigger than physical sight?

Jesus said, “Go your way.” Bartimaeus “followed him on the way.”

This isn’t a healing. This is a perspective shift. It’s a transformation from what everyone thought was obvious — “This man’s biggest problem is that he can’t see!” — to what Jesus thinks is important: “This man’s biggest problem is that he’s not following me yet.”

Even Bartimaeus thought he just needed to regain his sight — “No no no, I just need it back.” But he needed to see. And once he saw — once his faith was in place, once the eyes of his heart were opened and seeing Jesus and crying out to him for every need — then no other need could stand in the way.

What made him well? His faith. Who gives faith? The Lord, the God Almighty, the maker of the seeing eye — through Jesus Christ, the healer of the blind eye.

Every perspective shift you need is in Jesus Christ. Whether it’s about money and its place in your life — or about marriage and its worth — or about those who don’t get every doctrinal detail exactly right when they leap to tell the good news — or about the poor man huddled under his blanket crying out for mercy when you’re on your way to crown him with many crowns. There are things we think are obvious, even today, and sometimes Jesus looks at us and says, “Stop. Call him. He’s more important than you think.”

Do you live in Jesus’s priorities?

Do you saw away at sin like it’s a necrotic arm? Do you pray like it saves lives? Do you welcome children like they’re the greatest believers? Do you use money like it could truly earn you treasure in heaven? Do you treat your marriage like a miracle? Do you see simple faith as more precious than gold?

Neither do I.

But Jesus asks us to. And even when we’re stuck trying to regain our sight, or whatever blessing we used to have, he hears us. He calls to us. He meets us, and gives us a true miracle: the miracle of sight, of following him, of actually believing his promises, of priorities that actually move the needle.

If you’ve lost your priorities, come to him. Ask to see again.

“Take heart. Get up; he is calling you.”