Transcript
Then Jesus said to him, what do you want me to do for you? Please be seated.
I often talk about my call story, my spiritual autobiography, as we call it in the church world. But I don’t always include all the details, mostly due to time and sometimes due to the mundane nature of some of those details. One part I usually don’t include is about my prayer life, or what was my prayer life prior to entering seminary. Now my prayer life is more like a continuous conversation with God, but I’ll get to that at another time.
Before though, I had a very specific prayer. My call, so to speak, the religious experience I had. It happened in December, but for several months leading up to that moment, I prayed a lot. This would have been after I finished my Peace Corps service the first time, and after I finished my graduate degree, the first one, I started praying the same words verbally out loud whenever I could.
That summer would have been year 2011. I ended back in the country of Georgia, also with the Peace Corps, but on a much smaller assignment. I knew I was feeling a little bit lost, and while I loved my job and I loved my friends and I loved my life, it felt like I was missing something. Or more accurately, it felt like I was at a major crossroads, an intersection in my life where the next decision would have majorly lasting impact. So I made myself a promise.
While in Georgia for that summer of 2011, I decided to go into every church I could find. Georgian Orthodox churches are often left open all the time. They’re not quite like ours. They don’t have pews. They don’t really have an altar. They definitely don’t have a pulpit. Instead, they’re usually filled with icons, gold and glistening; saints, and various parts of Jesus life and ministry; and buckets of sand where you can place a lit candle like an offering to that saint.
So every time I saw a church that summer, I would go light a candle, place it in the front of my favorite icon and say this prayer: “Lord, thank you for guiding me down the path you have chosen for me. Please continue to guide me down that path that your will may be done in my life and in this world.”
Then sometimes I would add more things like requests for comfort or healing, or gratitude for moments of joy. But those three phases were always included in every prayer. Lord, thank you for guiding me down the path you have chosen for me. Please continue to guide me down that path, that your will may be done in my life and in this world. Basically, in less churchy words. Thank you God. You’ve done a lot for me. Please keep doing more for me so I can help you do what you want.
The last time I said that prayer in a church in Georgia would have been at the end of August 2011 and December 2011 is when my formal discernment journey began. I’m sure it’s not a coincidence. And so I ask you, what is your prayer? What would you be hoping to hear from God when you call out in prayer?
In today’s gospel reading from Mark’s Gospel, we hear a prayer, not a prayer from the disciples. Not necessarily even a prayer from a follower of Jesus. But we do hear a prayer. Bartimaeus has been living on the side of the road, unable to work or have a life outside of begging because his blindness made him unable to see.
To be fair, Roman society was a bit different than ours is now, because now there are plenty of resources to help those on the margins of society. But at that time, the resources were basically, to be blunt, the gutter. So Bartimaeus is stuck in the gutter on the edge of a road, on the edge of society, blind. And when he hears Jesus, he cries out. When those around him shush him, he cries out louder, have mercy on me!
Although a quick note, because I always like to throw in a little language lesson, a better translation of the Greek phrase that Bartimaeus cries out would be more like “do something merciful to me.” A bigger emphasis on Jesus than on Bartimaeus. A bigger emphasis on the healing power and the doing-ness of Jesus. So Bartimaeus calls out to Jesus something more along the lines of do something for me that you want according to your will. Help me in the way you deem most appropriate, even despite his own impotence, his all knowing. After all, Jesus has 100% divine, must be all knowing, just like God the Father. But even despite his all knowing, Jesus asks, what do you want me to do for you?
Jesus asked the same question in last week’s gospel reading. When James and John approached Jesus to discuss seating charts, Jesus asked them, what is it you want me to do for you. Today, when Jesus asks Bartimaeus, the answer seems pretty obvious. Let me see again. So Jesus says that his faith has made him well, and immediately Bartimaeus gains his sight and follows Jesus.
Thus I ask all of you, what is it you want Jesus to do for you? Or in other words, what are you praying for? What do you not just need or want, but require in order to be authentically the person whom God created? What is the prayer you would say over and over again, until the words run together into one single word or sounds and syllables. Thank you for guiding me down the path you have chosen for me. Please [indistinct]. As mine often came out.
Perhaps it is sight and I don’t mean like not having to use reading glasses. Perhaps it is sight to see the blessings around you, or to see your own shortcomings in order to grow those edges into successful and blessed strengths. Perhaps it’s bigger, like world peace, or maybe not quite that big. Maybe just national peace, like a kind and vitriol-free election season. Or maybe it’s more intimate and involves a spouse or partner or family member, or even a prayer related to yourself. So intimate that sometimes you worry about putting words to the prayer, the longing at all. Maybe you’re like how I was seeking guidance at an upcoming crossroad. Or maybe you’re like Bartimaeus seeking healing something perhaps as simple as seeing again.
Whatever your deepest desires are right now, I hope you will call out to Jesus. Put your prayer in words. Ask for hope. Ask for grace. And especially ask for God to do something merciful.
Granted, our prayers might not be answered quite as absolutely or immediately or resolutely as Bartimaeus’s Prayer. But like my own prayer, perhaps eventually you’ll start to see it come true. Or at least maybe you’ll start to understand a little bit what it means for God to do something merciful to you.
And in the meantime, while we wait, may we continue to pray. Continue to support each other. Continue to journey down the path that God has set for each of us, according to God’s will.
Amen.