“And Jesus said to him, ‘What do you want me to do for you?’

And the blind man said to Him, ‘Master, let me receive my sight!”

(Mark 10:51)

(That I might receive my sight)

Some people don’t know what they want. The baby crying first for its plaything, then for the red apple on the table, then for the pen in his father’s pocket, and being content with nothing, but crying on and on, doesn’t know what it wants. The attractive young woman, flitting from one lover to another, never able to make up her mind and settle down to one, doesn’t know what she wants. The man taking first this job and then that, never sticking to one position, doesn’t know what he wants.

Back in the sixties, Arthur Schlessinger said that the United States was slipping from its position of world leadership because of “a lack of purpose in our national life.” “We don’t know what we want to be or what we want to get in the world,” said Schlessinger. John Steinbeck, on once returning to the States from an extended stay in England, was horrified at what he found at home. “If I wanted to destroy a nation,” said Steinbeck, “I would give it too much and I would have it on its knees, miserable, greedy, and sick.”

Are we a nation of people who have achieved, or stumbled upon, the most affluent society the world has ever known, only to discover that we don’t really know what we want in life?

Now the Bible story about blind Bartimaeus is the tale of a man who knew what he wanted in life and went after it. George Mattheson, that remarkable blind Scotts minister who wrote the hymn, “O Love that Wilt Not Let Me Go,” says of this story that its most significant and suggestive feature is that it shows us a man who comes to Jesus in his blindness, while he cannot yet see, groping his way to the Master. But for me, the most arresting feature of the Bartimaeus story is that it shows us a man who really knows what he wants.

When the Lord of life comes to this blind beggar and says to him: “What do you want me to do for you?” there is no hemming and hawing — no, “Well, what do you have to offer?” no, “How many wishes do I get, three or four?” Straight to the point comes Bartimaeus. What he wants of life is on the tip of his tongue, the top of his mind. Breathlessly, he shouts it out: “Master, let me receive my sight!”

But more than this, Bartimaeus seems to be one who not only knows what he wants, he knows how to go about getting it. And it all begins with accepting what he has and what he does not have. How important it is to accept one’s present situation, however low and desperate it might be. A blind beggar! How can you get lower on the human scale than that? Sammy Davis, the successful entertainer, once said: “You talk about trouble! I’m a one-eyed, black Jew. Can anyone have more trouble than that?”

Our gospel story opens with blind Bartimaeus sitting by the roadside begging, eking out an existence doing what he can, accepting the terms of his life as harsh necessity hands it out to him.

Edgar Bergen as a boy, answered a magazine advertisement offering for 25¢ a book of instructions on how to become a magician. Young Bergen cut out the ad and mailed in his quarter. After what seemed weeks of eager waiting, the postman finally brought the expected package. But there was a terrible mistake. Instead of the book on how to become a magician, they had sent Bergen a book on how to become a ventriloquist. But the boy’s only quarter was gone. What was he to do? We know how it turned out. Bergen took what life had handed him and settled down to do the best he could with that.

A poor but bright graduate of Vanderbilt University applied for a fellowship to do graduate study in architecture. He wanted to become an architect. When told by the University official that there were no available funds for graduate study in architecture, but that there was a fellowship open for the study of medicine, he took that. He became an ophthalmologist and is now practicing in Memphis and people come to him from all over the world because he has become recognized as one of the greatest living retina specialists.

But there is something else we notice about this blind beggar, Bartimaeus; though accepting harsh necessity and begging by the roadside, he yet maintained an optimistic mood of expectancy. Acceptance to Bartimaeus did not mean blind commitment to despair and hopelessness. He was a child of faith. So when through his wide open eargate there came the good news, “Jesus of Nazareth is passing by,” even though he could not see it and verify it with his own vision, in happy expectancy he began to cry: “Thou Son of David, have mercy on me.” Using the title all believing Jews attributed to the coming Messiah, “Son of David,” Bartimaeus professed his faith that Jesus of Nazareth was the long awaited Redeemer and called on Him. The limited beggar did not have the equipment to give a thorough examination to all the evidence, but he was determined to live by his faith rather than his doubts.

Then there is this noteworthy thing we see here in the gospel story about Bartimaeus, like everyone else who knows what he wants and goes after it, Bartimaeus ran into some opposition. The crowd along the way began to shush him. “Be quiet,” they said. “The very idea! A blind beggar trying to stop this important man who has his face set steadfastly to go to Jerusalem to accomplish something wonderful for the whole world! Bartimaeus, where are your manners, your sense of proportion? You, one blind beggar, obtruding yourself upon a man whose mind and heart are burdened with the sins of the whole world! Be quiet, Bartimaeus, be  quiet!” But the persistent beggar shamelessly called, “Thou Son of David, have mercy on me.”

Always, the well-organized, efficient people resent interruptions. They do not want to upset the regular procession of well-planned human events. But, thank God, Jesus Christ always knew when to stop the procession of time to let in eternity. He knew instinctively when the moments of confrontation had come, when eternity was ready to break through into time for revelation, imparting truth, healing, blessing, or blasting.

Though Jesus was on the way to Calvary to redeem a world of lost sinners, He ever gave priority to persons at the point of each one’s needs. In fact, that is the ultimate meaning of His Cross. “On Jesus’ agenda, one beggar, single-handed, can put a thousand to flight.”

So, when Bartimaeus called, Jesus stopped. Let we never lose sight of that, however dark our night, however lonely our heart, however desperate our situation. The sincere cry of a penniless, blind beggar halts instantly the sure tread of the Savior of the world. He is all attention for our petition.

“The cry of Bartimaeus rings to the center of the world’s distress. To generations sitting in despair, the first step to salvation and to survival in that heady tumult is: “Jesus, have mercy on me.” He can heal a blind society. He can heal a disintegrating century.” (Interpreters Bible)

Do church people today need to remember that Jesus never healed anybody on the run? Neither can we . . . We must stop and behold people as persons and inquire of what we can do for them one by one.

Then notice this, Bartimaeus knew how to seize the opportunity when it came, careless of everything else. “Casting away his garment he rose, and came to Jesus.” This eager, happy man doesn’t take time to fold neatly his cloak and say to someone nearby: “Watch this for me. I’ll be back for it.” No, leaping up, careless of all else because his one, great, longed-for-moment has come at last, he rushes to Jesus.

Young Arturo Toscanni had long dreamed of becoming an orchestra conductor, but he remained only an inconspicuous player in the great orchestra, until that day in Brazil when the Italian conductor in a fit of temper stalked off the stage in the midst of a performance before a packed opera house. What to do? Someone remembered that funny looking scarecrow, Toscanni, who sometimes cherished the dream of himself as a conductor. They called him and put an over-sized coat on him. Arturo stepped up on the podium, closed the score before him, and lifting his baton, conducted from memory every measure of the opera. He had learned it by heart! His hour had come and Toscanni was ready.

Baritmaeus knew his great chance had at last come. Joyously he leapt to seize it, counting nothing of value compared with that opportunity.

But it was when Jesus asked, “What do you want me to do for you?” that Bartimaeus proved his greatest wisdom about knowing how to get what he most wanted. He knew that in the final analysis, though patient acceptance of one’s lot is important, holding on to one’s dream in spite of adversity is important, clamorously beating down all opposition is important, and grasping opportunity whenever it comes is important; but most important of all, if you want to have for yourself the supreme gift of life, you have to ask the Lord of Life to give it to you. Not by waiting only, not by working only, not by having faith alone, but by asking, comes life’s best gift.

How many people there are who think they know what they want in life and go after it hard, and when they have it, they find it is not what they wanted after all. The rich fool in the Bible parable thought he wanted goods and barns and he got them, only to discover that this was not what he really wanted when he heard his summons: “This night thy soul shall be required of thee, then whose shall these things be?” And the Prodigal Son thought he wanted most his inheritance and his freedom. This is what he asked for and this is what he got, but then when his inheritance petered out in pig’s slop and his selfish freedom proved a horrible enslavement and he came to himself, he said that what he really wanted was his place in his Father’s house.

Oh, the pity of pursuing hotly and achieving handsomely and then being sad, disappointed and heartsick on arrival. This is the tragedy of many a man and woman in the middle years after a life-long struggle for what they thought they wanted but didn’t at all when they got it.

Whether we know it or not, what we each one really want more than all else, and one day will inevitably discover, is that we want the Kingdom of God and its righteousness. And only Jesus can give us this. And He only when we ask it of Him. “No man cometh unto the Father buy by me.” Only He can unlock the gates of heaven and let us in.

Bartimaeus sat by the roadside as Jesus was passing on His way from Jericho to Jerusalem. But that was long ago and the Holy Land is far away.

Oh, no! Today, Jesus of Nazareth is passing by. He now can heal the blindness of our eyes. He now can lift us from the rags of our spiritual poverty and clothe us in the glad apparel of those who rejoice in their everlasting salvation. He now can say to you and me: “Go your way. Your faith has made you whole.” Will we now come and tell the Savior what we want of Him, what we need most of all, and take as a gift from Him what He alone can do for us?