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In the Dark

I have been banned from doing DIY around the home.  What a result!  My wife tells me I’m not to do any DIY.  She’s never forgotten the day in a previous house (not the one belonging to Peterborough Diocese) when I attempted to put up a bathroom cabinet and found myself thwarted at every turn by faulty machinery.  The stupid drill just came to a dead stop in the ridiculously hard Victorian brick.  And however hard I pressed it refused to sink deeper.  And then of course the raw plug simply refused to be driven into the hole however hard I hammered it.  And the whole bracket for some reason only known to itself insisted on sitting on the wall at some absurd angle.  How often an excellent workman is thwarted by his tools.  Stupid tools – I have to say - that deserved every insult I gave them.  Loudly rebuking a drill, or a raw plug, or an uncooperative wall is, I find, the only reasonable way forward in such situations.  When one discovers that a hammer is unfit for purpose what else is one to do but cast it down from a great height?

Now it was at this point that Jane came up with a quite absurd suggestion.  ‘Shall we get someone who knows what they’re doing to come and help?’ she says,  ‘We could look through the Yellow Pages.’  ‘Someone who knows what they’re doing,’ says my wife.  Well this was obviously quite absurd.  I knew exactly what I was doing.  And if it hadn’t been for a stupid wall and a faulty drill I’d have been fine.  Someone to come and help. What a suggestion!  That as far as DIY went and who knows perhaps in many other ways too, I was in need of help?!

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In our gospel reading today we meet a man who is unafraid to shout to the world that he’s not self-sufficient.  That he does need help.‘As Jesus and His disciples, together with a large crowd were leaving the city,’ writes Mark in v 46 a blind man, Bartimæus was sitting by the roadside begging.  When he heard that it was Jesus of Nazareth, he began to shout, “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!”’  We’re not told when Bartimæus lost his sight.  But one thing is clear in first century society and in most societies until very recently, from that point on Bartimæus will have experienced nothing      but dependence.

Think of the challenges of day to day living for someone without sight in a world without gadgets where cooking is done over open fires.  Unable to see Bartimæus  is unable to work; unable to earn an income.  Think of the years.  Every day depending on others simply for food and shelter.  And by the time we meet Bartimæus in Mark 10 it seems that if there were ever family members  able to care for him he’s now alone.  So he sits by the roadside begging.  Listening to the people walking past.  Asking for their money.

And sitting by that roadside each day he evidently hears stories of a teacher from Nazareth.  One through whom they say God works.  One who makes those who are paralysed walk again, one who even raises the dead and yes the one who restores sight to those who can’t see.  And what’s more, amongst today’s passing footsteps he’s heard some new chatter.  That this very teacher from Nazareth, this Jesus who heals is today in Jericho and will likely pass this way.  Today in Bartimæus’ own town, about to pass his way is the one who can change his life forever.  Except of course Bartimæus can’t see.  What if he misses Him?  What if this Jesus walks past without stopping?  How will he know when Jesus is there?  How will he get Him to stop?  So Bartimæus begins to shout.  ‘Jesus, Son of David have mercy on me!’  He’s making his need – his lack of self-sufficiency all too obvious.  ‘Jesus, Son of David have mercy on me!’  In other words:  ‘Jesus I need you.  Without you I’m lost.  I don’t care what spectacle I make of myself.  I need you.’

How irritating.  How uncomfortable.  How embarrassing for the passing crowd.  How lacking in dignity: this man displaying his weakness and vulnerability and desperation for the whole world to see.  In a world where we like to say, “I can do this on my own.  I don’t need help.  I am self-sufficient.”  How jarring.  ‘Many rebuked him,’ says Mark.  ‘Told him to be quiet.’  Shut up Bartimæus!  You’re making a scene!  But ‘Bartimæus, he just shouted all the more: “Son of David have mercy on me!”’

‘I can do this on my own.  I don’t need help.  I am self-sufficient.’ We say ‘Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!’ shouts Bartimæus.  And Bartimæus’ way – well says God – Bartimæus’ way is the stronger way.  You’re stronger when you realise that you’re weak.

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Just over a year ago as part of the Oundle Festival Ben Fogle and James Cracknell came here to St Peter’s to speak about their expedition to the South Pole.  In 2009 together with a Doctor called Ed Coates they entered a race to walk across Antarctica to the South Pole, competing against teams of hardened and experienced polar explorers from around the world.  Strong man of the team was superfit rower and 2 times Olympic gold medallist James Cracknell.  Few people had doubted that he could finish the race.  But Ben Fogle was a different story.  He contracted a serious tropical flesh-eating parasite just weeks before they were due to start.  Not only was he not able to train with the others but he also had to undergo powerful chemotherapy, having lead pumped into his body which left him exhausted and weak.  Just days before they were due to begin, Fogle was almost barred from competing because of his health but eventually race organisers let him in.  Right from the start team strongman Cracknell set a challenging pace and would get frustrated with Coates and Fogle.  Sometimes Coates and Fogle would argue that they needed to preserve their energy and set up camp earlier than Cracknell wanted.  He’d keep striding out in front.  He was tough.  He could cope.  He would set the pace.

All 3 developed blisters on their feet.  Fogle and Coates regularly complained about them and Doctor Ed Coates made sure that his and Fogle’s feet were regularly treated and dressed.

But James Cracknell, well he was tough, he was an Olympic champion.  It was only pain.  They were only blisters.  His feet were fine he’d say.  And on he’d go.  But of course Cracknell did have blisters, terrible blisters that just got worse and worse and infected.  And then generally weakened, he developed a severe chest infection.  And on staggering over the half way point the organisers threatened to withdraw Cracknell from the race.  They gave the team two enforced days of rest while they kept a watch over Cracknell and treated his infections.  Driven superfit athlete James Cracknell became the weakest link in the team. Meanwhile Ben Fogle who’d begun the race fully realising he was it’s weakest member got the nickname Duracell Bunny     because he just seemed to have a constant supply of energy.

Sometimes you’re stronger when you realise you’re weak.  And you’re weakest when you think you’re strong.  James Cracknell’s weakness was thinking he was strong.  Refusing to admit when he needed help.  Refusing to get his blisters treated when it could have made a difference.  Refusing to admit when he needed a rest.

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‘I can do this on my own.  I don’t need help.  I am self-sufficient.’ We’re tempted to say.  ‘Jesus, Son of David have mercy on me!’ shouts Bartimæus.  And Bartimæus’ way is the better way says God.

To understand why let’s remember what happened just before Jesus got to Jericho.  Look at page 958 just across from the story of Bartimæus.  You’ll see the title ‘The rich and the Kingdom of God.’  Do you remember the story?  The rich young man who has everything.  Not only is he wealthy – but he’s holy too.  He keeps all the commandments.  He’s a stalwart of the synagogue.  He has everything.  He needs nothing.  If ever anyone could say, ‘I don’t need help. I am self-sufficient,’ it’s this young ruler.  But how can I make sure – he asks that I will inherit eternal life?  What must I do?  What must I do?‘I want to do this on my own.  I don’t need help.  I am self-sufficient.’  And what does Jesus tell him to do?  To give away all his wealth.  Give away all his money?  How on earth could he do that?  He wouldn’t be self-sufficient any more.  He’d need people’s help.  Why - he’d have to depend - on God!  And it’s too much for the rich young man.  And he goes sadly away.

And in Luke’s gospel just before the account of Bartimæus’ healing Jesus tells a parable about a Pharisee and a tax collector.  They both go to the temple to pray.  The Pharisee confidently strides to the front and says, ‘God I thank you that I’m not like other people like evildoers and that tax collector I keep the commandments and fast and pray.’ But the tax collector stands head bowed right at the back beats his breast and whispers,‘God have mercy on me a sinner.’  He - and not the Pharisee – goes home right with God says Jesus. 

‘I can do this on my own.  I don’t need help.  I am self-sufficient.’  We’re tempted to say.  ‘Jesus, Son of David have mercy on me!’ shouts Bartimæus.  (‘When I am weak,’ Paul writes to the Corinthians, ‘then I am strong.’)

The rich man and the Pharisee both self dependent – independent.  But God wants people who are God dependent.  People like the tax collector and Bartimæus who are ready to say, ‘God I throw myself on you.’  Bartimæus was sitting by the roadside begging.  When he heard that it was Jesus he began to shout, “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!”  The crowd rebuked him and told him to be quiet, but he just shouted all the more.  Jesus stopped and said, ‘Call him.’  Throwing his cloak aside, he jumped to his feet and came to Jesus.  ‘What do you want Me to do for you?’ Jesus asked.  ‘Rabbi,’ he said, ‘I want to see.’  ‘What do you want Me to do for you?’ Jesus asked.  Bartimæus believed.  He believed that if only he could meet with Jesus, Jesus could transform his world.  He didn’t care what other people thought; he was prepared to be vulnerable he ignored the rebuke and ridicule of the crowd, didn’t mind saying, ‘Jesus – son of David have mercy on me.’  ‘Jesus I need your help.’

What about you and me?  When are we tempted to say to ourselves, to the people around us - to God:  “I can do this on my own.  I am self-sufficient.  I don’t need help.”  In work.  At home.  In bringing up children.  In our marriages and relationships.  With our health.  Are there times when we want to show all the world that we are striding out ahead strong and indestructible?  But actually inside unseen by all we’re limping along in agony.  And if we’re honest what we really need to be saying is, ‘God I need you. Without you I’m lost.’  ‘What do you want Me to do for you?’ Jesus asks.

Bartimæus says, ‘Lord I want to see.’ And Jesus meets his need and transforms his life.  ‘What do you want Me to do for you?’ Jesus asks.  What would your answer be?  What would you say to Jesus?  As usual during communion today there will be a prayer team in the chancel.  If you’re quietly struggling with some issue or problem on your own why not use that opportunity to bring it to God and depend on Him?  ‘What do you want Me to do for you?’ What’s your answer?