Abstract
Introduction
Mark’s story of Bartimaeus has a human touch. In comparison to Matthew (20:29-34) and Luke (18:35-43), Mark provides detail that is suggestive of an eye-witness account: perhaps received from Peter in Rome. Whilst Matthew speaks of two “blind men” and Luke of a “blind beggar”, it is Mark who tells us the man’s name and even explains it: son of Timaeus or Bartimaeus. The story must have been vivid in the folk memory and tradition passed on to Mark. He mentions the cloak that Bartimaeus casts aside. Generations of preachers have seen this action as a symbol of the security Bartimaeus sacrificed in the hope of a better future. Bartimaeus’ faith was not disappointed. In Mark’s favourite way of putting things, “immediately” sight was restored. How Bartimaeus had come to be blind we do not know; but, that was probably not important to Mark or his readers. It was the healing facilitated by Jesus that mattered. It was the last miracle on Jesus’ last journey.
Desire: the mother of salvation
We can picture Bartimaeus sitting by the wayside, insignificant amongst the throng, dependant on alms from passing pilgrims. However, when Bartimaeus speaks we see another side of this poor, blind, man. His riches lie in the strength of his desire; poverty has not quenched his spirit. He earnestly believes that Jesus can “enable him to see again”. Jesus can give him more than alms. As the encounter unfolds, perseverance, faith and thankfulness prove to be essential characteristics of Bartimeaus. Jesus responds with the intriguing remark: “your faith that has made you whole”.
Surely, this story epitomises the Kingdom of God and the way of its working. Wholeness is God’s will for humanity, indeed for creation, but we must work together with God in order for it to happen. When human desires and the God of love come together they create a climate for salvation, that is, for healing and restoration. The story rules out passive waiting, romantic dreams and wishful thinking as ways of the Kingdom. God does not act over and above our heads, but through the mind, by way of the heart and with the co-operation of the will. Bartimaeus’ desire seems to have been the key to what unfolded. Certainly, Jesus identified desire and faith as instrumental to the physical and spiritual salvation Bartimaeus experienced.
What transpired between Jesus and Bartimaeus reminds us that Christian spirituality is rooted in personal interaction between the soul and God. For example, the Shorter Catechism, in the spiritual lineage of Augustine, places desire at the heart of prayer. Question ninety-eight of the Catechism asks: What is prayer? Answer: Prayer is the offering up of our desires unto God, for things agreeable to his will, in the name of Christ, with confession of our sins and thankful acknowledgement of his mercies. The literary genre of Mark’s gospel is far removed from the precision thinking of seventeenth century theologians. Yet, the pattern of prayer that the divines sought to articulate has strong resemblances to the supplications – the personal appeals – of Bartimaeus. His desire, his confidence, his call for mercy, his trust in Christ, his thankfulness: these are elements common to Christian prayer in every age. Indeed, in the biblical traditions from Abraham to Paul, supplication is shaped by desire, expectation and thankfulness. Bartimaeus illustrates features of a relational spirituality that is both ancient and contemporary.
Mark’s strategic intent
Whilst the reader is struck by the prayerful, spiritual awareness of Bartimaeus, it is a different story with the disciples. Mark sets the Bartimaeus story in the context of Jesus’ teaching on discipleship. Three times in the preceding chapters Jesus has spoken to the disciples about the way of the Cross (9:31-38; 9:30-32; 10:32-34). Alas, the disciples are blind to the import of what is being said. The flow of events is punctuated by argument amongst the disciples about who is greatest (9:33-37) and by sibling rivalry between the sons of Zebedee (10:35-45). Even repeated appeal by Jesus to the example of children (9:35-36 & 10:13-17) is unable to dislodge self-centred interests. It has been said that Jesus encountered two enemies of his Kingdom: his opponents and his disciples! In comparison, Bartimaeus knows nothing of Jesus’ teaching about the Cross and he has not seen Jesus take a child in his arms. Yet, Bartimaeus has spiritual vision that contrasts with the blindness of Jesus’ immediate followers. One cannot but feel that Mark uses the case of Bartimaeus to illustrate that there is often a cross-shaped sensibility in many lives prior to hearing the gospel. The long-time Anglican missionary to Burma – and later Archbishop of Jerusalem – George Appleton, tells of a very old Hindu man who, on hearing one sermon on the life of Christ, asked to be baptised. “How can you ask for this” asked the missionary, “have you never heard before today the name of Jesus Christ?” “No,” replied the old man, “but I have known and sought him all my life!” Is it too speculative to say that Bartimaeus had known and sought Jesus long before he heard him say: “Your faith has made you whole”? Bartimaeus, like the Hindu convert and suffering Job, had prior intimations of the Cross in their life experiences. Ironically, the hearing of the ear – discipleship that is taught – does not necessarily open the door to soulful awareness, or illumine the eyes of the heart (Job 42:6). The Irish poet Brendan Kennelly once said: “words are nothing”. Words are empty if they are used solely to control experience – serving self-interest and deadening the spirit – rather than tools for exploring the mystery. The example of Bartimaeus chastens teachers and preachers!
Epilogue: Following the way
Barthimaeus disappears from view, never to be heard of again. He was not, as far as we know, at the Cross or in the Garden of Gethsemane. Was that a sign of failure or of authenticity? American Episcopal priest John P. Keenan has given us a commentary on Mark (The Gospel of Mark: a Mayhayana reading) which sees the return of Bartimaeus to the hum-drum, to ordinary life, an indication of what following the way of Jesus entails. It is a mistake, Keenan argues, to imagine that Jesus envisaged his followers as a “sacred elite”. At the end of Mark’s gospel he tells the disciples to return to Galilee. It is there that he will meet them, not in the courtyards of the Temple, nor in the streets of Jerusalem. It is an interesting thought. And, it is surely consistent with the spiritual path that Jesus took so great pains to teach. The disciples were to be leaven in the dough of community existence. The Kingdom of God is not divided between the sacred and the secular. Immersion in common pleasures, problems and levelling experiences of community is the way of the Kingdom. The nearest we can ever be to Christ is to be open to the person beside us: there is Christ in otherness, dignity and vulnerability. The ordinary is the extraordinary. The secular is spiritual. The gospel is a way of seeing.
Narrative in Kings
Jerome T. Walsh, Old Testament Narrative: A Guide to Interpretation (Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 2010. £19.99. pp. 266. ISBN 978-0-664-23464-5).
The goal of Walsh’s book is to introduce readers to ‘some of the basic points of entry literary critics use to discover how narratives communicate to their readers and to equip [readers] to pursue the same sort of narrative analysis on [their] own’ (p. xi). Narrative criticism, as Walsh diagrams it, begins with a text, written by an author and read by a reader. This text consists of a narrative, composed by an implied author and directed towards an implied reader. Examining this narrative focuses on how the real author communicated. The narrative itself consists of a story, composed of characters, setting, etc., and has a narrator and narratee. Examining this story focuses on what the real author communicated.
The topics of Walsh’s chapters correspond to this diagram. He begins by examining plot and characters (what the author communicates). These chapters are very short and offer little by way of description or essential ingredients. The next five chapters cover the way in which the author tells the story, covering topics such as point of view, manipulation of time, ambiguities, and repetition. These chapters give more detail, discussing styles, techniques, and perspectives. Walsh devotes one chapter to the tools of the implied author. Here he covers structure and symmetry as briefly as possible. Finally, the book closes with a chapter discussing the responsibilities of the reader, summarizing how the actual reader interacts with the story, narrative and text, as well as considering the personality each reader brings to the reading task.
Walsh uses examples from the book of 1 Kings throughout each chapter. Additionally, the stories of Jeroboam, Elijah, and Ahab are used as exercises for the reader. Each chapter ends with several questions of the three narratives and how the elements of the stories illustrate the topic of the chapter. The final seventy pages of the book are three appendices; each appendix contains Walsh’s answers to the questions asked at the end of each chapter.
This is a helpful introduction to the task of reading and interpreting narrative. I found Walsh’s use of 1 Kings as a test case both useful and interesting. Walsh closes the book noting the danger that narrative criticism sometimes ‘takes apart a watch’ and then can’t put it back together. He warns against destroying the artistry of a narrative and encourages readers to always come back to the text and appreciate it as a work of art.
While reading this book it felt as if Walsh sometimes overanalyzed narratives. While every element of a narrative certainly should be analyzed for what clues and meanings it conveys, not every element does convey something of vital importance. Gaps and ambiguities may indicate clues in the text or they many allow the reader to infer something that is foreign. Walsh is comfortable with both. It is certain, however, that Walsh provides a useful introduction to the difficult task of interpreting narratives and will produce much discussion for introductory classes on this topic.