Title: “Our OTHER Teachers”
Text: Mark 10:46-52
Day: Proper 25B / Reformation Sunday
Date: October 25, 2009
I remember feeling determined as I went to get my brand new bike from the garage for the ump-teenth time that week. My dad dutifully came along with me, probably hoping against hope that this would be the time that I would actually get it right, that this might be the time that I would actually ride a two-wheeler all by myself.
It had been quite a process up to that point. I don’t know how many times that week my father and I had gone out to the sidewalk with my hopes higher than the clouds only to come back in the house defeated yet again. I just couldn’t seem to get it right. And it’s not that I didn’t know what I was doing. My father had been a wonderful teacher, telling me exactly how it should be done: keep focused, keep pedaling, just go straight, if you fall, fall into the grass, and so on. So, I would give it my best shot, trying to be confident even in the face of many disastrous wrecks that haunted my memory from earlier in the week. To be honest, every time I started I hoped that he would not let go of the bike…that way I knew I was safe. But I just couldn’t get it.
Later that week, I went over to my good friend’s house, and I brought my new bike with me, just to show it off. And while I was there, my friend gave me his own suggestions for how to learn to ride a bike. And he showed me how he had done it: His method was to get on the bike at the top of the driveway and let the downhill slope help to get you started. Just… make sure there are no cars coming!
In hindsight, I suppose my friend’s advice was much flimsier than my father’s, but for some reason it worked! I was finally riding my bike all on my own! I hardly knew what to do…so I just kept pedaling, cautiously steadying myself so that I wouldn’t fall, and pedaling some more. The only thing left to do was to learn how to stop without keeling over to the side…but that was a project for another day.
What I learned from that, however, was that sometimes it helps if someone new does the teaching. Sometimes you can only get so much information and help from one teacher, and in order to learn the rest you need someone new to teach you in a fresh and inspiring way.
And maybe that’s why the story of blind Bartimaeus is so important. They needed a role model, someone OTHER than Jesus, to show them what it means to be a disciple. I mean, we’re in chapter 10 already, and – apparently – the disciples still have not been able to figure this stuff out from what Jesus had been teaching them.
For example, Jesus spends a lot of time in his early ministry teaching by example: healing the sick, strengthening the weak, cleansing those who had unclean spirits. At the beginning of Jesus’ ministry, it seems like he is healing someone at every turn. And the disciples were there to watch and learn every single time! Yet when Jesus leaves them alone and a man with a sick boy comes to them, they seem to have no idea how to make him well.
Or how about when Jesus tells them that they need to honor and respect those who have little or no status in the world – and he wraps his arms around a child to emphasize his point. The disciples were there to see and hear this radical teaching, yet only a few verses later they are shooing the children away like little pests, telling them not to bother Jesus!
And, of course, Jesus teaches his disciples over and over again that they should really be no more than loving servants. We heard him say this quite plainly in last week’s reading: “Whoever wants to be great among you must be your servant.” And yet the disciples continue to vie with one another for power and position within their group.
The embarrassing thing is that the disciples KNEW INTELLECTUALLY how to be disciples. Every once in a while they were actually able to do the “disciply” stuff all on their own, without Jesus holding their hand. But just like when I was trying to learn to ride a bike, they couldn’t keep it going. So far, every brilliant moment of success they had ended in a terrible crash.
Now, today being Reformation Sunday, I’m sure that many churches around the world will be tooting their horns, ringing their bells and celebrating the fact the day when our church got it right. We will give honor and praise to Martin Luther, who boldly challenged the church to live up to Christ’s expectations. But how many churches today will acknowledge that we have failed in that endeavor more than we have succeeded? How many churches today will recognize that our success as a Church has been fleeting, lasting only a short time before we fail to live up to Christ’s expectations once again? Probably not many will use that as their focus for the day.
But why not? Because this is the reality. Still, two thousand years after the death of Jesus, his disciples have – for the most part – still not been able to fully grasp his teachings. We read the story of Jesus feeding the hungry crowds, and yet the hungry wander our streets. We KNOW INTELLECTUALLY that this shouldn’t be the case, but we apparently haven’t figured out Jesus’ teaching on this yet.
We read the story of Jesus breaking down the barriers of race and ethnicity as he heals the Syrophoenician woman’s daughter; and yet the church still suffers from sin in the form of racism, sexism, classism, and many other -isms. We KNOW INTELLECTUALLY that this shouldn’t be the case, but we haven’t internalized Jesus’ teaching on this yet.
We obviously need someone else to teach us, someone else to show us how it’s done. What we need is a role model.
And herein is the genius of Jesus. I think Jesus knows that we need others to teach us, and I think Jesus constantly provides them for us. As is the case with blind Bartimaeus.
Bartimaeus was probably not much to look at. His blindness probably meant that he was a social outcast. And – as such – begging was the only way to get money for food. So, he places himself in a lucrative position, just outside the city gate – a very heavily trafficked area – and he begs…loudly…rudely…persistently…obnoxiously. In other words, he wouldn’t have been as quiet or shy as the panhandlers at the exit ramps today.
So, when Jesus walks by, it might make sense that the crowd around him tries to shut Bartimaeus up. To them, he is simply being a pest. But his cry to Jesus seems to imply great faith. Somehow, this blind beggar seems to see Jesus for who he is better than anyone in the crowd gathered around him. And so Jesus takes advantage of this opportunity and he lets Bartimaeus do the teaching.
When Jesus calls him, Bartimaeus leaps up from the ground and throws off his cloak – probably his only possession – and leaves it behind him as he comes before Jesus. A powerful teaching moment for the disciples.
Jesus then asks him the same question that he asked his disciples in last week’s reading: What do you want me to do for you? And in contrast to James and John’s response, Bartimaeus replies wisely – not asking for power or prestige – but simply asking to be made whole. A powerful teaching moment for the disciples.
Even after the healing has taken place, the teaching is not done yet. Bartimaeus provides one last lesson: he doesn’t go back to get his cloak; rather he leaves it behind, and we are told that he simply follows Jesus on the way, now with his eyes wide open. A powerful teaching moment for the disciples.
What’s interesting about this story is that Jesus plays a relatively minor role. I think part of the reason for that is that Jesus has already laid the foundational principles of discipleship. He has already taught his disicples everything they needed to know. And so in this story, Jesus steps aside and lets Bartimaeus give it a try. He lets someone else do the teaching.
Perhaps we can understand Reformation Sunday in this light. This is a day when we celebrate our OTHER teachers, those people who have been role models of the faith for us: people like Martin Luther who re-focused the church on the ultimate tasks of discipleship – loving God and loving our neighbor.
Today we celebrate our OTHER teachers – those people who have been able to help us to live out what we already know intellectually: people, perhaps, like your mother, father, brother or sister who have provided you with an example of true discipleship in our world today.
Today we celebrate our OTHER teachers – those people who help us grow in faith and love by giving us their own helpful hints on this challenging life of discipleship: people, perhaps, like the ones sitting right next to you this morning.
Today we celebrate our OTHER teachers, and I suppose that makes me wonder whether learning how to be a disciple is something like learning to ride a bike. You need a good teacher to give you the basics, to lay the foundation. You need a firm hand to guide you in the beginning. You need someone to pick you up when you fall. But – every once in a while – you need someone else to show you how it’s done.
Amen.
