Twenty-third Sunday after Pentecost, October 27, 2024, Proper 25: Job 42:1-6, 10-17; Psalm 34:1-8, (19-22); Hebrews 7:23-28; Mark 10:46-52
This week we read the third part of the exchange between Job and the Lord. In the first, Job’s “complaint was bitter”, and he imagined that if he could just find the Lord, the Lord would answer. But the Lord was seemingly nowhere to be found. Last week we heard the Lord’s answer to Job, which could roughly be summarized as “Who do you think you are? You may be good, but you didn’t create the world.” In this third installment, we close out the conversation: Job admits that he had “uttered what he did not understand”, and as a result he repents “in dust and ashes”.
In the way that the book of Job reads a bit like a fairy tale, beginning with “There once was a man…” it has a happy ending. The Lord restores the fortunes of Job, and he has more children, including three daughters who were the most beautiful women in the land. And Job lived 140 more years, until he died, “old and full of days”. It is a fairy tale ending to what has been a fairly dark tale.
In the midst of his apology to the Lord, Job says, “I had heard of you by the hearing of the ear, but now my eye sees you”. It is a fascinating statement: seeing is vital for Job. It is true for us: we don’t say “hearing is believing”, but we do say “seeing is believing”. It may not always be true: we all know there are things we don’t want to see. Or in the words of 1 Corinthians, “For now we see only a reflection, as in a mirror, but then we will see face to face. Now I know only in part; then I will know fully, even as I have been fully known.” (1 Corinthians 13:12) Seeing, really seeing, is powerful. So Job “sees” the Lord in a new way.
Today’s Gospel is also about seeing. For the last few weeks Mark has been telling stories of Jesus trying to tell his disciples what is going to happen, and finding that they don’t get it. Today is a variation on this. Jesus, his disciples, and a large crowd are leaving Jericho. Bartimaeus is a blind beggar, and much the dismay of those surrounding Jesus, he starts calling out for Jesus, asking for mercy. The crowd tries to silence him: he is interrupting and making a scene. But Jesus stops, and asks for him to be brought forward. He jumps up, and Jesus asks a simple question: What do you want me to do for you? And he asks for his sight to be restored. It is immediately restored, and Bartimaeus follows Jesus.
There are so many remarkable things about this exchange. First, Jesus makes no assumptions about what Bartimaeus needs or wants: he lets Bartimaeus define his needs. And the request is basic: let me see. There is nothing self aggrandizing in the request, nothing fancy. Just, let me have my sight back. Yet in a way, Bartimaeus had “seen” Jesus before he could see: he knew who Jesus was. And then, when he is healed, there is no big speech, he just joins the followers of Jesus.
What is it we do not see? What do we try not to see? What is it we need Jesus to open our eyes to? What do we hear of the Lord but not see? That is a challenge for all of us.