October 27, 2024

23rd Sunday after Pentecost, Deacon Ashley Greenwood

Mark 10:46-52

I went horseback riding last week. We were on a family trip and decided to take my daughter, niece and nephew on a 60-minute ride outside the Wisconsin Dells. It was a beautiful day with the sun shining over the orange and yellow trees. We arrived at the horse stables on time, but those working that day seemed to be in panic mode preparing for our group of riders.

They were getting the horses ready, double checking how many people had signed up for the ride, all while trying to sell us a $10 bag of horse treats as we stood awaiting orders. We waited patiently as we were asked to fill out paper work and then wait for our assigned horses. A few of our kids were excited, one was very nervous but they eventually got each of us on a horse, adjusting our saddles and stirrups for the ride. In the haste of this seemingly busy event for the staff, I got onto my horse, possibly before they had time to properly fit the saddle, so I awkwardly had to move my leg for them to try and fit it to my height and size, as I had seen them do with the rest of our group before. It seemed to be a fit and I followed my way to the single file line to wait for our trail ride to start.

As we waited to begin, two of the staff members came through to check on each person’s saddle. One was friendly, while the other was not. Quick and blunt, the not so friendly employee approached our saddles, poked, prodded and “corrected” the work of whatever was done before her. I didn’t appreciate her critiquing of the staff, and when it came to my turn, she thought my stirrups were a bit too high. I quickly reacted in my Midwest, don’t want to upset others or cause more work for anyone, way of saying, “No, no, they’re fine.” I didn’t wonder much if they actually were fine or the right fit. I rode a horse about 30 years ago, so I should know my comfort level, right? Well, after this, another, friendlier employee also noticed my stirrups and asked if I wanted them resized. Without hesitating, I again stood firm with my “do not disturb others” mentality and said, “No,” assuring him I was fine.

I was not fine. Ten minutes into the ride, I noticed the discomfort of my legs, hips and knees. If you all have ever been horseback riding, you might recall that walk you have to make after you get off the horse– barreling your legs and sort of easing them back into a “normal walking” condition. Well, I was already dreading that part of the day after my discomfort from the first 10 minutes of our ride. The two professionals may just have been right in noticing that my stirrups did, in fact, need to be altered. So, I was left to wonder…why could I not accept their help?

Why could I not recognize the professionals not once, but twice, offering to help me with something they obviously noticed was wrong? Why is it so hard for me to be a bother to others?

In our gospel story for today, Bartimaeus has no problem being a bother to others. Bartimaeus is blind, sees an opportunity to be healed and shouts at Jesus, repeatedly, “Have mercy on me, have mercy on me.”

Bartimaeus demands this, even as he is shushed by others. Those around him are demanding that he be quiet, annoyed at the scene he is making. But Bartimaeus doesn’t let it phase him and continues to believe Jesus is the way he can be healed and cared for – and it doesn’t matter whom he has to disturb to get the chance of healing. And it works for him! Jesus stops to find out who is calling to him. He asks Bartimaeus what it is he needs and Bartimaeus replies, “Let me see again.” And Jesus provides this man his sight. Bartimaeus was a man who saw an opportunity for change in his life, screamed, and begged and finally found his sight restored thanks to the healing work of Jesus.

Can you imagine having the guts to demand such change, to cause such discomfort to those around you? Can you imagine being so sick of the condition that you’re in that you are ready to make a scene in your city, disturbing anyone near? Some here may understand it completely, because of the pain you suffer with or have suffered with, possibly putting you in a state where you don’t care what discomfort you may cause. If you are able to be healed, you’ll beg and do anything for that healing!

Which brings us to Martin Luther, who begged his church to change. When Luther nailed those 95 Theses on the doors of the Catholic church, he was demanding change and causing discomfort, and look where its led us today. Bartimeus demands for change remind me of the people with disabilities, who camped out at the Washington D.C. federal offices in the 1970’s, as a part of the Disability Rights Movement. These offices were not accessible or comfortable for those living with disabilities, but they stayed and caused discomfort until changes were made, prohibiting discrimination against individuals with disabilities. These cries for help remind me of the Black Lives Matter movement, which didn’t start with a whimper, but certainly created a bang as Minneapolis saw the cries of pain after George Floyd was killed and riots took over the city. We finally had our eyes opened to the racial injustices within America and thought it wasn’t just a fight for people of color, but a fight we all had to step into to cause change.

You and I are probably uncomfortable with causing a disruption, no matter how inconvenienced we are. That’s the way I was before that simple one-hour horse ride. Even when others offered help and comfort for my stubborn self, I refused. As our ride started, I realized why I so quickly brushed off the help of two professionals, each of whom saw a problem with my stirrups. I know I’m a people pleaser and have great difficulty asking for help. And while I was given a full hour to think about how I could better this personality trait I had, I simply thought, “Hmm. I have to put up with my problem and maybe I’ll be able to write a sermon about this someday.” That’s what I was thinking about instead of focusing on the beauty of the brightly colored trees and watching our kids enjoying their ride.

Has there ever been an area of your life where you had to fight to demand change? Where you had to shout against the masses, cause discomfort, or keep pushing back after being shushed and cast aside? Is there something for which you would beg Jesus to change in your life, if He were to come walking through these halls, alongside His disciples?

507 years ago, Martin Luther demanded change, as he nailed the 95 theses on the wall of the Catholic Church. He was demanding change to the entire system, which ultimately led to the formation of the Lutheran Church. Martin Luther saw difficulty, despair, inequality and he not only demanded change, he listed 95 specific ways that change could happen!

Imagine if you were to pin a list of 95 changes that needed to be made on the front door of the office where you work, or on your principal’s office at your school. Would you ever have the guts? Would you be able to demand that change and cause that disruption without ever backing down or asking for forgiveness?

We sit here today, breathing in the word of God, because of the changes Martin Luther fought for. We sit here today, praising Jesus because He was able to give a blind man the power to see, regardless of the scene the blind man was making.

And we sit here today, possibly fearing an election to come, but hoping that there are brave candidates out there who can affect the changes for which this country begs. Every four years before an election, we have to pause and pray, not only hoping that our vote truly does count, but also that we can elect people who want to make our world a better place to live.

Mark’s gospel reading today shares the story of brave Bartimaeus, a man who advocated for himself with the result that Jesus returned the man’s sight to him. And while we often speak of a peaceful Jesus, one who loves and cares for others, we also need in our lives the Jesus who causes discomfort and demands change. We need this discomforting Jesus to continue to inspire us to do the work that Martin Luther started – that of fighting for the changes our church and world needs to continue to be God’s faithful people in this troubled, troubled place.

Once upon a time, not so long ago, in my pride, I refused to ask for help with my stirrups when heading out on a horseback ride. Not so with the blind Bartimaeus. He begged Jesus for help and Jesus returned his sight to him.

Please in your lives of faith, be more like Bartimaeus than me. Be brave enough to call for change in a troubled world even though it may cause discomfort for you and for others. Bartimaeus did just that and as a result he could say, “Once I was blind, but now I see.” So help us Jesus, we pray, to be brave enough to create the changes this world needs, no matter the discomfort. And in so doing, may we also say with Bartimaeus, “Once I was blind, but now I see.”