Mark 10:46-52 Commentary

Well, at least it wasn’t the disciples this time. There are a lot of deep running themes in this scene, but why would be surprised by that? Jesus has shown himself time and time again to be a certain kind of Messiah in the Gospel of Mark, and as Mark’s narrative enters a new stage (see the textual point below for more on that), we see this story encapsulate through action many of the lessons we’ve learned about discipleship.

Thus, the expanding scope from the disciples to the crowd is an important one. Jesus’s way isn’t just for the twelve but for all who wish to follow. This particular crowd, Mark tells us, isn’t just ‘looky-loos’  but are people who have decided to follow Jesus out of town: they are going with Jesus and the disciples as they leave Jericho.

Along the roadside is a beggar, who once getting an idea about why this large crowd is on the move, starts to yell for its leader. As I sit and piece together the scene as it’s described in Mark, I imagine that part of the crowd is ahead of Jesus (the verb in verse 46 is “leaving” not “following”). I don’t imagine that this is some solemn march where people are staying purposefully mute. And yet, the blind man’s repeated shouts, “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!” are enough to catch attention and annoyance.

Most of us have been in a setting where we feel like someone else is having an inappropriate outburst. It could be as harmless as a toddler’s tantrum at the grocery store, or as worrisome as two adults getting into a loud argument in public. For better or for worse, most of us don’t get involved in things that aren’t our business.

But this crowd does; they think Jesus is their business. Like the disciples before them who tried to keep the little children from Jesus, the crowd might think they need to protect the precious resource that is Jesus of Nazareth from the riff raff, the wastes of time who don’t have any value to add to Jesus’s ascent as Messiah. By “sternly ordering” the blind man to be silent, “many” in the crowd fashion themselves as the gatekeeper to Jesus.

And as Jesus did with the disciples and the little children, he stops what he’s doing to connect with the people/person being kept away from him. Jesus tells the people who have been telling the man to shut up to bring the man to him. The way Mark describes it, Jesus brings the journeying crowd to a halt, standing still, to tell the crowd to call the man yelling to him.

Echoing the words that Jesus spoke to the disciples on the stormy sea, the crowd tells Bartimaeus to “Take heart!” And in exuberant fashion, Bartimaeus throws off his cloak (likely hurling coins gained by begging through the air) and jumps up to go to Jesus. He is the picture of what the rich man could not be: willing to leave it all behind, Bartimaeus comes when Jesus calls.

Bartimaeus also asks for what James and John should have asked from Jesus last week. Jesus asks them the exact same question as he asks Bartimeaus now, “What do you want me to do for you?” Instead of asking for power and position, Bartimaeus asks to be healed, in his case, to see. It’s symbolic of what the disciples and the crowd and all of us really need: to see Jesus as the Saviour he actually is.

Beautifully, once Bartimaeus can see, Jesus tells him to go and that his faith has made him well. His faith that led him to advocate for himself, his faith that led him to use his voice when others tried to silence and devalue him. His faith that brought him to the presence of Jesus with an audience of those who thought they were better.

And what does Bartimaeus do with his newfound site? How does he keep Jesus’s command to “Go”? He joins that mass of people following Jesus along the way. He doesn’t turn it against the other people in the crowd in judgement or pride because Bartimeaus’s eyes are fixed on Jesus.

Textual Point

Keen commentators point out that this story is the bookend to Mark’s section on discipleship. In Mark 11, the events of Holy Week begin with Jesus’s entrance into Jerusalem. If this is the end, what is the beginning of this discipleship section? The other sight-healing in Mark 8.22-26. If you recall, that’s the one where Jesus has to touch the man’s eyes twice before he is fully healed. Scholars make connections to the way the stories in between these healings mark the journey of the disciples coming to understand—always in part, but seemingly never in the whole—and how with this second healing there is a sense that it is possible for us be healed and see Jesus clearly enough to throw off our cloaks of the old life and follow our Lord.

Illustration Idea

When I read our lectionary text, I most identified with the people in the crowd. I remember once having one of those magical Sundays off from preaching—not vacation, not out of town for a church meeting, just a Sunday to be at church but not preaching. We had a member of our church qualified to preach and he regularly guest preached for us when I was away. During his sermon, I think it was on the new heaven and earth in Revelation, another member of the congregation raised his voice because he had a serious question/concern about something he thought he heard our preacher say. Graciously, my colleague heard his fellow member out, addressed his concern, and then said something like, “This is great, I want people to question things and go ahead and do it even during the sermon.” I blurted out loudly from my seat, “But only when HE’S preaching!” Of course, there were lots of laughs and then we settled back into the worship service.

Almost as immediately as the words barked out of my mouth, the conviction came flooding; I spent the rest of the worship service reflecting on what had just happened in me. What was the motivation for wanting to silence someone in the family of faith seeking truth? What did I fear would happen? What was I protecting? Not surprisingly, it was a mix of wanting to protect the carefully crafted “thing” I created with the sermon and my own fear of inadequacy when put on the spot. A little to my credit: after the service I did go talk to the member who asked the question during the service. I told him that I would definitely be open to talking more about anything I preached, I confessed my fear of failing in front of the congregation, and I also tried to make sure that he knew I didn’t think he had done something wrong. But I never did talk with the whole congregation about what had happened, and I can’t help but wonder if I silenced more than a few people who simply wanted to see that Sunday. Maybe my sharing sparks an example from your own life (and all the better since you might feel the same fear as me about opening up your preaching time to comments and questions!)