Cry of the beggar

Mark 10:48-49 And many rebuked him, telling him to be silent. But he cried out all the more, “Son of David, have mercy on me!” And Jesus stopped and said, “Call him.” And they called the blind man, saying to him, “Take heart. Get up; he is calling you.”

Bartimaeus was a blind beggar.  His trade was dictated by his physical state; there was no program to help the poor and afflicted in Roman-occupied first century Israel.  As part of the beggar-underclass of people, he was very used to raising his voice for alms and any mercy that he could get to come his way.

There’s also little doubt that Bart knew about Jesus – one who didn’t just give alms but who healed blindness itself.  If that could happen, his entire life would change radically.  He could be a productive person.  It’s hard to consider all the possibilities and plans he had imagined for his entire life that could transpire if he could only see.

But when he raised his voice, calling on the “Son of David” – a well-known name for Messiah, that those around him thought he was only begging as usual.  They told him to be silent, thinking perhaps that common beggars had no business involving Jesus.  Begging was not his intent, though, and their chiding and squelching his voice had the net effect of keeping him blind and poor.  Their pushing him out of the way was oppressive and cruel.

Jesus stopped and would ask him what he wanted.  Bart could’ve asked for great riches, to have his calluses healed or anything else.  He asked to see.  And see he did.

Do I

1. Assert myself when I have a real need only Jesus can meet?  Bartimaeus gave voice to the yearning of his heart and would not be silenced.  Do I do that, or slink back into a beggarly life of want?  Can the voices of others, perhaps bothered by my very presence, shout me down and scoff me underfoot?  Hear the (perhaps annoying) cry of the poor man, O my soul!  Do not be silenced!
2. Find my myself among the annoyed, insisting the loud beggar cease his/her rantings?  For sure there is dysfunctional entitlement.  But there is also a need to be heard and listened to.  Do I listen?  Do I pause to hear the stories of the poor one?  Or do I instead call his/her voice a distracting bother, with no substance behind the noise that fills my ears?  O my soul, learn to listen, for the stories you’ll hear will inform all mercy and wisdom.

So be it.