Rector's Sermon
25 October 2009

First Reading	Psalm	Epistle	Gospel
Job 42:1-6,10-17	Psalm 126	Hebrews 7:23–28	Mark 10:46–52

       Throughout Jesus’ travels around the Lake of Galilee, the Gospel According to Mark weaves a depressing pattern of Jesus’ followers inevitably not understanding, not seeing, and not hearing the Good News that Jesus was announcing. Fortunately they knew that Jesus had a special Holiness and had grasped at least a hint of the message that made them want to stick around and learn more.  However, it can’t be denied they were such slow and stubborn learners and much that Jesus wanted them to know did not become clear until long after the resurrection. In contrast, there were clear signs of God’s grace to those who were regularly shunned, exploited, and ridiculed. The world would say that there was something wrong with every one of them and had nothing for which to commend them. Yet it is often the people the world defines as having nothing or having something wrong with them who perceive in Jesus a real and living hope. They become a sign of something right, a sign to paraphrase Paul’s words, of God choosing those whom the world thinks common and contemptible, those who have nothing at all, to show up those who think they are everything. (1 Co. 1:28-29).

       There was the man demented with an evil spirit, who disrupted synagogue worship, clearly someone who was out of his mind and to be avoided; yet even in his demented state, he understood Jesus had healing power. There was the one with a paralyzed hand who wanted so much for Jesus to touch him, that he dared to come to Jesus on a Sabbath, and Jesus pushed the heavy gate of tradition aside and made his hand whole: the paralytic who could not get through the crowd into the house where Jesus was staying, so he went to extraordinary lengths and got his friends to cut a hole in the roof and lower him down; the leper who was disfigured beyond recognition who recognized God’s grace in Jesus and Jesus recognized in him a part of the human race, and not a hideous freak; the woman with hemorrhages who had spent all she had on doctors and their science, but  comprehended in Jesus something more than another referral.

       Jericho was the final town in which to stock up on supplies before taking the road across largely uninhabited valleys and unprotected plains that would bring them to the suburbs of Jerusalem. There would be an occasional shepherd’s camp along the way and there were a few rough way stations by the road, but Jericho was the last dependable and safe place to rest. Jesus likely used the stop here to quiet down the disciples after another of their fruitless arguments over who was the greatest among them. There, at the very last hour, as they left town, Bartemaeus, the blind beggar shouted, “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me.” Typically, the disciples tried to push him away and silence him, but Jesus said, “Call him,” and Mark the Gospel writer emphasizes the verb call, two more times in the next sentence. Jesus called Bartemaeus and Bartemaeus heard the call. Unlike most of the other healings where the person who had been healed returned to reestablish one’s life, Bartemaeus did not go back to his village or family. Instead it is said that Bartemaeus followed Jesus on the way, a phrase implying that Bartemaeus followed Jesus to Jerusalem and the cross. At the last possible moment, Bartemaeus became Jesus’ final disciple before the great confrontation in Jerusalem.

       We never hear of Bartemaeus again, but he seems to be about the only one of the disciples who may have had an inkling that Jesus’ mission involved healing the world, not extending domination over it; of including the excluded, not making a larger basket to throw in the damned; of releasing and setting free those held down by history’s and culture’s chains of exploitation.

       As I thought about the story of Bartemaeus, somehow the folktale of Cinderella came into my mind. There are many versions of the tale, but Cinderella is the forlorn child of the household, in rags, and not given much of a future besides that of drudgery. The stepsisters receive an invitation that they believe will lead to a life of fame and fortune. They prim themselves to get into the in crowd. They hope to be noticed by a rich nobleman, maybe even the prince himself. So they compete in dressing in the finest dresses that will get them noticed. Cinderella does not even anticipate receiving an invitation, after all she is considered a nothing, but then at the last hour, she receives a call. It is too late to go shopping and she could not afford a fancy dress anyway, but her friends the animals find spare ribbons and material and whip up something colorful and modest, but presentable. Her godmother arranges transportation that’s a bit strange, but Cinderella gratefully accepts it. Cinderella knows that she has been given a great gift and she goes to the ball with a thankful heart. Needless to say, she really enjoys the party. 

       I suspect the party in God’s great banquet hall is like that, too. And I wonder, will I understand, will I see, will I hear when God calls me, or will I be like one of the haughty stepsisters, clothed in their own ugly jealousy and pride, insisting on wearing shoes that are showy and too tight, ones that you can’t dance in at all?

      Yes, like Cinderella, Bartemaeus received God’s invitation at the eleventh hour and he sprang up with joy, not with demands or expectation to be exalted above the others. He was simply glad to be able to dance with Jesus. So I think that the stained glass window of Bartemaeus will have him throwing off his cloak at the very edge of town, as Jesus calls to him. The faces of the other disciples will betray a haughtiness and distain at this come lately creature. The young rich man would have been a much more desirable addition if he had only accepted. Oh yes, I picture it now,  Bartemaeus practically dances as he follows Jesus on the road to Jerusalem, knowing that God’s grace has transformed him as much as a fairy godmother’s wand. Oh yes, I think somehow; looking on, perhaps in a different dimension, Cinderella with her glass slippers will be there dancing too.

       And I offer this to you in the name of the Living God, Amen.