The internet is
full of articles and blog posts about what to say – and especially what NOT to
say – when someone is sick. You
can find these stories in print, too – in newspapers and books, and
occasionally helpful brochures.
They offer good
advice on the difference between “Let me know if I can help,” and “Can I bring
you dinner and a funny movie tonight?” or “I’m free on Monday if you need a
ride anywhere.”
There’s good
advice on how to tell the difference between support and slogans before you say
something, and the vital importance of real listening and real love.
I’ve read lots
of these, as friends send them around or post them on Facebook, but I’m not
sure any of the folks in today’s gospel story had heard that advice.
To start with,
the crowd of neighbors is hushing Bartimeus when he’s calling out for
help. Of course life is easier
when we don’t have to pay attention to illness and injury – but to give credit where it’s due, the crowd switches gears quickly when Jesus
starts to pay attention.
And here’s the thing
that made me think of all those articles about how to help someone who is sick
– when Jesus hears Bartimeus calling out for help he turns around to talk to
the crowd. To the neighbors and
family and friends.
Jesus stops and
says to the crowd, “Call him here.” Invite him to
come to me.
And the crowd
does. Those friends and
family and neighbors turn to Bartimeus and say:
“Take
heart! Get up! Jesus is calling
you!”
Now, there are
lots of ways to discourage someone by telling them that they should be cheerful. But this, I think,
is a little different. I believe
this is the crowd suddenly discovering and proclaiming an important gospel
truth:
God is calling
you.
God is calling
you, looking for you, inviting you to come,
even while
you’re sick, or broken in places, imperfect or in pain.
God is calling
you, looking for you, inviting you to
come,
right now, as
you are, not later, when you’re better.
So take
heart. Respond. God is
calling you.
That’s what we’re
here for today: we’re here to say that to one another. I think that’s
what we do when we have a chance to pray with one another about healing and
hope. It’s the job of
the faithful community to help one another respond to God’s call, to have the
courage to meet God in all our brokenness, to remind one another that we are
called by God, invited to meet God, just as we are.
It can be hard
to pray for healing when a condition is chronic, when we’ve
gotten used to feeling awful, when we think
it’s minor, or when we think it’s our own fault.
Bartimeus knew about that. Like
any blind person in first-century Palestine, he would have known the doctors
couldn’t heal him, had gotten used to his blindness, and used to the idea that
blindness and disease are God’s way of paying back sin – yours, or your
parents, or grandparents….
We don’t think
that way in 21st century Lombard, but we do get used to the things
that are broken in our lives, we get used to our pain and our limits. From time
to time, we do blame ourselves – and sometimes we’re right.
So we too
sometimes need the community to give us the courage to respond to God’s call.
And then the
story can go on.
When Bartimeus
stands facing Jesus, encouraged and surrounded by his community,
Jesus speaks
directly to him:
“What do you want me to do for you?”
“What do you want me to do for you?”
It sounds like
that question the articles say you’re not supposed to ask – that open ended,
vague “how can I help?” But instead it’s a question we don’t
always hear, but we always need to answer:
What do you truly want? What would make you whole?
What do you truly want? What would make you whole?
Sometimes the
answer is as direct as the medical diagnosis: I want the bone healed, the
cancer gone.
Sometimes it’s
different from the diagnosis.
Sometimes we need to ask God for a different kind of healing: for grace
and strength in the face of something that has no cure, for release, for the
return of hope, or the renewing of lost relationships; for forgiveness.
Jesus looks at
Bartimeus, as he looks at so many lepers and blind men and crippled women in
the gospels, as he looks at us, today, and offers all of that.
But he never heals
until he’s asked.
And the asking takes
courage.
That’s why, a couple of times a year, at Calvary, we stop the ordinary rhythm of our Sunday worship, and stand in front of this altar – together – as God invites us to name our healing.
That’s why we
pray here, together, why we stand up
with one another and put our hands on each other’s shoulders,
because healing
takes courage,
and that takes
community.
We stop today,
and pray, and interrupt the usual, because Jesus
tells us to call one another: to give each other courage. To proclaim this
gospel truth to the brokenness or need inside our neighbor:
“Take heart! Get
up! God is calling you!”
So that the
story can go on.
When Bartimeus
stands in front of Jesus and receives his sight, he goes on to follow Jesus on
the way – the way that leads to Jerusalem and beyond.
So today we’re called to en-courage one another, to proclaim to our neighbors
right here, and beyond these walls:
God is calling
you:
flawed and needy as you are, bruised and ordinary as you feel,
inviting
you to name your healing
so that the
story can go on.
So take heart,
today. Take heart with all your soul.
Call and encourage one another. Listen and respond. For God is calling you.
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