In great stories of fantasy, there is often a moment of tension where everything is about to change – for the protagonist, the world will never look the same way again- when they face a portal that will change the course of their lives – the Rabbit hole, the Tardis, Platform 9 3/4, the back of the Wardrobe, the tornado transport to OZ. In each of these stories, soon after arrival, we learn of an evil on the other side — a villain to be defeated. I think that part of the attraction to this literary trope is perhaps not only that the evils can be easily named, but, even more so – that they can be defeated, usually by one who has a calling and chooses to follow their destiny into righting wrongs in the struggle for justice and peace. These portals into new, magical worlds give us the hope that we too can find the power within us to defeat evil with goodness.

At first glance, or taken out of context, this story about a blind beggar having his sight restored may appear to be simply another miracle story in the ministry of Jesus the healer. Encountering it within the larger narrative, however, we hear more clearly how it is an invitation to see things that cannot be unseen, and to follow a calling, even into hardship and pain.

In Mark’s gospel, sight is a metaphor for faith in Jesus. People who believe – even those who are blind – “see” Jesus. Hearing is not enough. We are required to do more, to respond in faith with justice and compassion. Those who do so have not just heard Jesus, they have truly seen him. In this story, Jesus and the disciples are approaching the end of their travels together. They’ve entered the city of Jericho, on the edge of Jerusalem, and on the edge of suffering and death for Jesus. Jericho was the first city of the promised land, often called “God’s first gift to Israel” – Jesus is walking into a land that once belonged to his people, and is now the home of Herod’s winter palace, a Roman occupied land where he will face arrest and imprisonment.

And, as Jesus walks through Jericho, Bartimaeus calls out. Bartimaeus is a beggar, a social outcast, one of the “least.” But in a defiant act of faith, Bartimaeus throws off the cloak assigned to him by his social standing and calls out to Jesus in words that no one else in Mark’s gospel – including the disciples – has used. Bartimaeus calls to Jesus as “Son of David” and “Rabbi- teacher.” There is great significance in the titles Bartimaeus uses in addressing Jesus.

The crowd may describe Jesus simply by his birthplace, Nazareth, but Bartimaeus knows better who Jesus is, and how to describe him: it is Bartimaeus who sees Jesus most clearly.

Jesus notices the man on the margins and hears his cry for help. Andre Resner describes this moment beautifully: “Faith sits, leaning forward, ready to leap at the opportunity to answer God’s call…” Bartimaeus takes the opportunity and leaps forward. Jesus restores his sight and tells him, “go on your way” but, the man’s response is not to go, but to follow, to become a witness to the events that are to come. In fact, many scholars claim this is just as much a call story as a healing one. Just a bit earlier in Mark, a rich man is explicitly invited to let go of his riches – all that holds him back from the work of peace and justice, and to follow Jesus, but he declines, unable to let go of his privilege. This man, throws off his only worldly possession, and leaps to follow Jesus, even on the way to the suffering and death. Bartimaeus chooses to follow what he has spiritually embraced.

In the book, On Your Mark: Reading Mark in the Shadow of the Cross, Megan McKenna suggests that we check our own perception and attention, to consider whom we might not be acknowledging, on whom we might prefer not to focus, or whose voices we may be silencing. Out of sight, out of mind, and despite our rapid communication and news reports flashing in constant succession on our social media feeds and on our wrists, we can distract ourselves, hit “dismiss,” or scroll past the things we choose not to see. Sometimes the news is overwhelming, and it is too much, and we do need to take care of our own mental health and take a break. But, can we really choose to just hear, and never to see?
Perhaps, like Bartimaeus, we have to take heart and open our eyes, knowing that we won’t be able to unsee, that our lives are going to have to change. Seeing can be dangerous. We will sometimes see suffering. We’ll see cruelty. We’ll see death. It’s unavoidable. The world is broken in so many places. A mature faith looks at those places. And sees them. But, it’s hard – when we are faced with the immense suffering of the world, how do we survive it?

Almost exactly a year ago, I preached about seeing evil. Stories and images of thousands of children torn from loving, safe arms, and being put in cages permeated the news cycle. I was in the shadow of story after story of people coming to our borders begging for mercy and being met with cruelty and I felt like I couldn’t look away. I shared with you the trauma Aiyana has experienced by being separated from family twice, about the sounds that trauma makes in our house, and about the work my child has to do every day to overcome what has been taken from her- even while being surrounded by every goodness and mercy we can offer.

But today, I feel like I am on the sidelines, I have seen a caravan walking toward hardship and suffering and I need to ask for mercy, because there were times this year when I looked away. When, after my eyes were opened, I was the one who held onto my privilege and went on my way, instead of following my call. I have to ask for mercy, to ask to see again, and to follow the call of justice more faithfully. Last year I lamented. This year, I feel like I need to repent – for all I have failed to do to stop this suffering. I need to follow the example of one walking forward with eyes wide open:

Someone like The Rev. Kaji Douša, senior pastor of New York City’s Park Avenue Christian Church, a congregation of the United Church of Christ and the Disciple of Christ, who is suing the United States government for interfering with her legal right to provide spiritual support and pastoral services to migrants and refugees at the border.

She states:
“On January 2nd of this year, I did something that I’ve always done, which was to cross the border and go and help, and pray for, and advocate for people seeking refugee status in the United States. I met with migrants, I met with people who were supporting migrants. I prayed for them. I listened to their stories, and I tried to help them to figure out how to articulate them more clearly as they present themselves for what we call the “credible fear interview,” or the legal process by which people show up to an assigned port of entry into the U.S. and argue their case in front of an asylum officer. As I did this work as I have done for many years, in fact, I then tried to cross back into the United States, with my passport, with my global entry pass, and I was stopped by Customs and Border Patrol as they pulled me into what’s called “secondary inspection,” and interviewed me, interrogated me, detained me, and eventually released me. Later, I found out that I was part of a group of others including journalists and humanitarian workers and lawyers – all people who go to help others on the southern side of the border – who were flagged … had our passports flagged, and travel restrictions imposed just because of our work. And my belief, my contention is that we are being targeted because we expose the truth…We talk so much as Americans about being the “land of the free and the home of the brave” – what is brave about being afraid of a migrant family who is coming as they flee persecution at home? What is brave about turning away somebody who is hungry? What is brave about prosecuting people who leave water in the desert? There’s nothing brave about that. And if we want to call ourselves free, then we need to be free to serve, and free to do the right thing. And hopefully, my suit will allow this country to realize that there are ways to say no to all this evil that is being perpetrated in our name. I hope you’ll support us. Amen.”

In another interview, Rev. Dousa states: “My country has decided to punish me. But I will not look away. I will continue to look closely—to listen, to imagine, and to call us into a better way. Free me and my colleagues to do our work with migrants and we will find that better way.”

I will not look away. I see you and I will support you.

I also need to follow Pam Smith, Carol Barron, Heather Irons, Heart Phoenix, Lights for Liberty, and the thousands of others who gathered at detention centers, government buildings, and parks around the world last Friday. In Heart Phoenix’s facebook post, she wrote:

“Today we found out that the Homestead [Florida] Detention Center is the largest in the country with 3200 youth. The compound is beyond comprehension in size and we couldn’t see in at all because of tarps covering all the many acres of chain-link fences. But we, a very diverse group of several hundred people, sang together songs and chants for the children’s freedom, in both English and Spanish hoping the music crossed the divide.”

In a photo from the event, I saw a large sign being held high by many – it said: “Don’t look away.”
I will not look away. I see you and I will support you.

In reflecting about what I wanted to say today, I learned something new about the heart of justice – once you see, “don’t look away” and if you do, Ask for mercy, ask to be given your sight back, and follow on – take heart, get up, you are being called.

And so I ask again, if we are to open our eyes to suffering, how can we survive it? Because when we open our eyes, we also see acts of compassion, we see the work of love, we see kindness, we see hope – and most of all, we see that we aren’t alone. We see people who can lead us in the ways of justice and mercy and we can choose to follow them. The crowd may call migrants by their birth place, as the crowd called the child refugee Jesus “of Nazareth” – you may remember when Nathaniel said, “What good can come out of Nazareth?” but, just like Bartimaeus, we know who these travelers are – they are holy, they are worthy, and they are teachers of strength, compassion, and hope for us all. We can see them.

We may not have a portal to a new and magical land – but there is a wall, and there is a fence, there are boundaries that we must cross – and there is evil that can be named. We must dare going through the wardrobe and down the rabbit hole – knowing that we will be challenged, that we will confront suffering, and that we can’t unsee it – in fact, we have to face it again and again. But we can rely on our faith that if we go together – we will find the truth at the heart of every story of triumph. Love wins.

Sometimes we will need to ask for mercy, to repent, and lament;
and, like Bartimaeus who knew – if they don’t hear you the first time, say it again until they do… so, will you – on this day when communities are being raided, families are separated, and people are suffering – will you pray with me this prayer of repentance and lament as we did last year, and as I will continue to pray, until we are heard and all eyes have seen?

July 14, 2019

Rev. Talia Raymond