30th Sunday 2024
Jeremiah 31:7-9; Hebrews 5:1-6; Mark 10:46-52
Do you remember the Kray twins? Along with the Richardson gang, Reggie and Ronnie Kray and their henchmen controlled much of the East End of London in the 1950s and 60s by a combination of extortion, torture, and murder, until the Law caught up with them, more than slightly belatedly.
The Krays frequented a pub named the Blind Beggar, invariably referred to on news bulletins, in those more formal days, as “The Blind Beggar Public House” where one of their murders was committed. That pub still exists today, refurbished and newly respectable, but I suspect that many of its customers are attracted by its former notoriety.
According to Google, it owes its name to a legendary 13th century nobleman who fell on hard times and was reduced to begging for his daily crust, but I am sceptical of that. I prefer to think that, like many traditional pub names, such as the Cross Keys, the George and Dragon, and the Red Cross, its name has a religious origin, recalling the blind beggar of today’s Gospel.
Whether that is the case or not, I wonder why the concept of a blind beggar should take such a hold on the popular imagination that it is recalled in a pub name today. We are all familiar with beggars—walk through any town centre of any size and you will see people huddled in doorways with a begging bowl, and often a sleeping bag—but it may be that blindness adds a particular poignancy to their plight.
In biblical times, “the blind and the lame” were often invoked, as today by Jeremiah, as people who would receive God’s special favour. In those days too, begging might be their only resource, as neither employment nor state aid would be available to them.
Hence, Our Lord’s cure of a blind beggar was both an act of mercy to someone in particular need, and the fulfilment of biblical prophecy. In addition, the behaviour of the beggar himself makes his story stand out among Jesus’ other works of healing.
Firstly, we know his name, as he became a follower, a disciple of Jesus. He wasn’t simply one blind beggar among others: he was Bartimaeus, the son of Timaeus. Secondly, he knows the name of the one who can cure him: not only that, but he recognises Jesus’ Messianic identity. Not one, but twice, he addresses Him, not by His patronymic “Son of Joseph”, but by the royal and sacred title “Son of David” thus acknowledging His particular role.
His persistence too causes Bartimaeus to stand out. The crowd tries to hush him, but Bartimaeus will not be hushed. Indeed, the harder they try, the louder he shouts. Bear in mind that, unlike the leper whom Jesus cured, the recovery of his sight will not be an unmixed blessing. He will lose his occupation as a beggar, and be obliged to find a new source of income, but this does not deter him. He continues to pester, to shout, to make a nuisance of himself.
This persistence of his is rewarded, and we are given a beautiful picture of his eagerness. “Throwing off his cloak” we are told, “he jumped up”, and in this instance we cannot fault the Jerusalem Bible’s translation. Was he so familiar with his blindness that he was able to make his own way to Jesus, or did he need to be helped? We are not told, but make his way he did.
Once there, he was in no doubt as to what he wanted: “Master, let me see again”, and we are brought to realise that this was a double request. He wanted his physical sight restored, but also his understanding. The latter is already strong, as he has shown by addressing Jesus as Son of David, but now it is completed. “Immediately his sight returned and he followed Him along the road.”
Unlike another blind man cured by Jesus, whose sight returned only by degrees, for Bartimaeus the restoration of his sight, both physical and inward, was immediate. Straightaway he sees, and straightaway he becomes a disciple, following Jesus along the road.
As always, the question now arises “What about us?” Does anything prevent our seeing Jesus clearly, seeing what we are to do, how we are to follow Him? And how eager are we to have that blindness removed? Do we persist in praying, in shouting at the Lord, or are we too comfortable, too set in our ways, too afraid of what Jesus may ask of us? Are we willing to jump up, throwing off whatever may hinder us? Are we willing and eager to follow Him along the road.
