There have been times when I preferred the cover of darkness to the light of day, the mantle of ignorant bliss to the sackcloth of repentance or the painful work of self-examination and serious study.

I know what it feels like to see God moving in one's life and I know what it feels like to be lost in the dark. I want, at this time in my life, to see again - to see anew - to be like Bartimaeus. Bartimaeus whose name means "son of honor", Bartimaeus who shouts out "Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me."

Bartimaeus knew who was coming down the road. This is no surprise, everyone must have. It was Jesus. Jesus, who had already healed one blind man, opened the ears of a man who was deaf, and cured a boy who was demon possessed or at least epileptic. A gifted healer was coming into town; of course Bartimaeus would be excited by the buzz of the crowd. And this Jesus was not just any healer but a specialist who had already done wonders with another blind man. And that other man had been blind since birth.

The crowd was restive, necks craned, people shuffled forward for a better view. Dust from moving feet rolled across the ground and gathered on Bartimaeus' cloak. He sat in the grit and listened hard.

The excitement in the Jericho crowd was like when the circus came to small towns in the American Midwest in the early 1900's: get in line for the biggest show on earth. Come be amazed by the man with nothing up his sleeves. But Bartimaeus, even in his blindness, or perhaps because of it, saw something in Jesus that escaped the attention of many.

"Son of David, have mercy on me" Bartimaeus cried out and in so doing identified Jesus as the Messiah. Not simply a healer, but a savior. Bartimaeus' cry was sedition in the making, trouble in the extreme, and the sense of the Greek words in this passage are that crowd continually ordered Bartimaeus to shut up. They wanted to see the parade, not the arrival of the Temple police or the Roman Army.

But Bartimaeus had nothing left to lose but his blindness. He cried out even louder.
And Jesus stopped, and stood still...

The procession to Jerusalem and the cross stopped in its tracks for one man.
And Jesus, full of light, turned to the blind man and asked:
"What do you want me to do for you?"

What kind of an answer is that, can't Jesus see? The man is blind, for goodness sake.

Yes, Jesus can see when people are blind. Jesus can see when they are deaf, or hardhearted, too. God, from whom no secrets are hid, sees all the broken places in our hearts, minds, bodies and spirits. Jesus sees everything with a heart of compassion and a desire that we have health and wholeness. Jesus sees our freedom to choose and the need for our participation if relationship with him is going to have any power or meaning in us.

We have to identify our need for a savior, and ask to be healed. Then God acts.

"What do you want me to do for you," Jesus asked. And the person in front of him gets to say what they desire. Bartimaeus said, "My teacher, let me see again." And it was so. Others in the Gospel asked for help with their unbelief, for water that would quench their deepest spiritual thirst, for the secret of eternal life or for new life for their beloved child. And Jesus met them all with his willingness to be present and active as a sign of God's compassion, paying even the ultimate price on our behalf. Jesus died to give the whole world the possibility of seeing anew, of drinking deeply of the spirit, of believing with conviction, and of acting, in turn, in compassion towards others as a sign of God's presence.

It is faith that makes us well. It is faith that makes us whole. It does not matter from whence our disease may have come; faith will make us well. It matters not whether we have been blind since birth or only recently robbed of vision. Jesus still asks, "what do you want me to do for you?"

Let us join Bartimaeus in shouting. "Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me."
Let us join with millions who have pleaded, Lord let me see, give me strength, lead me on where you would have me go.

Jesus stops on the way to the cross, full of light, full of compassion,
and Jesus turns to look at us. What shall we present to Christ for healing?
What shall we give for the work of God in the world?

We can give our whole lives if we choose.

We can offer all that we have and all that we are to the healing power of God.
We can offer our overstuffed calendars, our spiritual poverty, our blindness to the plight of others, and our lack of compassion and Jesus will stop in his tracks, turn, and open our eyes and our hearts. Jesus can even open our wallets, if we are willing to be transformed.
There is no limit to what God will accept as a possibility for healing and transformation.
There is no limit to that for which faith can hope. The Son of David, the Messiah, can make more possible than we even imagine.

It is time to offer it up, to step forward, and to participate in the miraculous.
"Take heart; get up, he is calling us!"