"Lord, that I might see"

“Master, I want to see.” The plaintive words of a blind beggar in our Gospel this morning resonate in our hearts. We generally take for granted the amazing gift of our five senses - our sight, hearing, taste, touch, and smell - until they are lost or somehow diminished in our lives. Bartimaeus, the blind beggar, knows that all too well. And when Jesus restores his sight, he joyfully abandons his old life to become a new disciple of Christ. But this story of miraculous healing speaks to a different sort of blindness, one that too often afflicts us all.

Helen Keller was a well-known author, disability rights advocate, and political activist in the early twentieth century. She was also deaf and blind. Helen tells a story about asking a friend who had just returned from a long walk in the woods what she had seen. The friend replied, “Nothing in particular.” “How is this possible?” Helen asked herself, “when I, who cannot hear or see, find hundreds of things to interest me through mere touch. I feel the delicate shape and design of a leaf. I pass my hands lovingly over the rough bark of a pine tree. Occasionally, I place my hand quietly on a small tree, and if I’m lucky, feel the happy quiver of a bird in full song.” The greatest calamity that can befall people isn’t that they should be born blind, but that they should have eyes, yet fail to see.

Which brings us to our Gospel today. It’s probably not accidental that the healing of blindness for Bartimaeus immediately follows the story of James and John we heard last Sunday. In fact, in this middle part of his Gospel, Mark “bookends” two stories of the blind gaining their sight around several accounts of the apostles’ failure to understand what Christ is telling them: Peter arguing with Jesus when he speaks of his Passion and Death (“Get behind me Satan!”); the disciples arguing on the way to Capernaum about which one of them is the greatest; and last week, James and John asking to be given the places of honor when Christ comes into his glory. James and John — who had been with Jesus from the BEGINNING, who had SEEN the miracles, who actually WITNESSED the Transfiguration — yet still they don’t understand who Christ really is, and what his Kingdom is all about.

And then we have Bartimaeus, a poor blind beggar, on the side of the road to Jerusalem. He hears that Jesus is passing by, and he cries out, “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me.” Again and again he cries, “Son of David, have mercy on me.” By that title — Son of David — Bartimaeus, a blind man, calls out and acknowledges Jesus as Messiah, the first person outside the disciples to recognize him as Christ and Redeemer. In his blindness, Bartimaeus is blessed with SPIRITUAL sight to recognize and understand Jesus more fully than even his apostles.

And Christ HEARS the cry of Bartimaeus. No doubt he hears him the first time he cries out. Jesus hears the anguish and pain of Bartimaeus, but he lets him cry out again and again. He wants him to know and understand his burning need and desire for the healing touch of Christ.

It’s not by accident that Jesus calls and heals Bartimaeus here on the road to Jerusalem. This final healing by Jesus on the way to his Passion and Death serves two hidden purposes for his disciples. First, the disciples are no doubt discouraged by Christ’s repeated teaching about his coming death. They’ve heard it several times along, and find it really hard to accept. So Jesus uses this final healing to show them once more his power and kingship. Second, the disciples are still spiritually blind - they just don’t get it yet. So Jesus heals a blind man to help underscore their spiritual blindness yet again, and to offer a sign of hope for them — and for us.

Jesus calls Bartimaeus to him, and asks, “What do you want me to do for you?” It’s exactlythe same question we heard him put to James & John last week. And it’s the samequestion he puts to US, deep in our heart, when we meet him there in prayer. For the reality is this — too often WE are the disciples, blessed with the gift of physical sight, but spiritually blind to God in our midst. We become so dazzled by the brightness, the glitter, the distractions of this world, that we fail to understand the importance of the question. And we simply aren’t prepared to RECOGNIZE and UNDERSTAND the importance of our answer.

Because Jesus truly IS in our midst. In the tabernacle, in the miracle of the Eucharist at the altar, and in the blessing of the communion of his Church gathered together today. And yet in our blindness, we miss Him here among us. How often do we come to Mass weighed down by the cares of the world outside, go through the motions of our Eucharistic Celebration, and yet leave unchanged by the miracle we have just witnessed? Even in his blindness, Bartimaeus knew the reality of Jesus as Christ and Redeemer. He left EVERYTHING behind to come to Jesus, convinced of who he was and trusting in his power and glory. He threw off his old life, and with the gift of spiritual sight, became a disciple of Christ and followed him. Christ calls us to do the same.

A man took his young son on a camping trip to the mountains. He hired an experienced guide, who brought them into the very heart of the great forest, and to beauty spots in the mountains they would never have found themselves. The old guide was constantly pointing out the beauty and the wonders that most people would never even notice. The young boy was fascinated by the guide’s ability to see so much in all his surroundings. One day the lad was so impressed that he blurted out, “I bet you even see God out here.” The old guide smiled and replied “Son, as life goes on it’s getting more and more difficult for me to see anything BUT God out here.”

Today, on this World Mission Sunday, when we kneel before the Eucharist in prayer, perhaps our hearts might be opened to hear Jesus say to us, “What do you want me to do for you?” And we too can say with Bartimaeus, “Lord, that I might see” — not with my eyes but with my heart. I want to see your presence all around me — in the miracle of creation, in the gift of love, and in the wonder of the sacraments. I want to recognize your presence in the hungry, the hurting, and the lost. Freed from blindness, I want to see your path for me and joyfully answer your call. Lord, I want to see.