Raving Lunatics & Ancestry ...

Does anyone else have that “crazy” uncle or aunt, or distant relation, who is certainly the life of the party; at least from the police department’s view as they are often called to keep the noise down?  Many of us have this relation in our family tree, the person who can begin a rant on a moment’s notice.  The person who believes the neighbors, and the nation, have slept long enough.  The relative who thinks we should all “cry out” until the authorities listen.  The family member who is a one-man or one-woman parade, even without the benefit of intoxication, ready to “march” down there and set a few things straight.  The chilling thought is the DNA proximity.  It makes us wonder, if this raving-lunatic-gene could inhabit our DNA, just lurking for age or environment to coax it out of us.  Could we be the raving lunatic in waiting?  And what if this gene exists in our family tree up the line a bit, just beyond our sight.  Could a distant ancestor have passed this characteristic down, maybe repeating it several times, till it reaches the poor family victim we know about today.

“Lunacy” is certainly in the eye of the beholder.  And the surest way to get a lunatic to become louder is to attempt to silence them, or ask them to be quiet.  It would seem, that one sign our so far dormant lunatic gene still lurks within us; is if we believe our opinions must not be kept quiet or to ourselves.  If we feel the burning need to share our opinions, with others, even if they did not ask, or do not want them, then perhaps the gene is no longer dormant, and we are the family member others worry about at family gatherings.  But sometimes, what others see as lunacy, might actually be genius in disguise.  Sometimes the delta between lunacy and inspiration is too close to measure.  On those occasions, do we let popular opinion silence the inspiration, or do we cling to what must be said, and what must be heard.  Is it worth the perception of being seen as a lunatic, if it is the Spirit that truly motivates us, and not the random conspiracy theories we invent on the fly?

There was a man in Peter’s recollection of the Gospel who faced just this dilemma.  He was not the life of the party to that point in time.  Rather, he was a beggar who sat quietly outside of Jericho, incapacitated by his blindness.  Through his life, he had never seen, so he wandered in absolute darkness.  The sun would press heat upon his skin at noontime, but this heat came in the darkest of night for him.  It was heat and blackness.  At night the cool breeze pressed cold upon his skin, but it did not come with gentle starlight and the spotlight of the moon.  It was cold and blackness.  He spent his life, where his friends had taken him, along the highway that people must pass to enter and exit the city.  This was his life.  Quietly, humbly, asking for wages he could not earn.  His pride broken, by years of repetition, of asking money from strangers.  His heart broken, by the so often cold response he received in return.  Most of them, wondering out loud, what sin he had committed to reduce him to this state.  This was his life.

But while blindness had stopped his eyes, his hearing still functioned.  As he sat in darkness, he heard the passers by talking about Jesus of Nazareth.  He had heard the stories about his miraculous birth in the city of Bethlehem, his flight to Egypt, his teaching at the temple at 12, his baptism by John.  He had heard about Jesus healing all manner of illness, deformity, and even possession.  So perhaps if it were sin, that kept this blind man blind, with Jesus, this too might be swept away.  Other Israelites debated whether Jesus was the real Messiah.  They reasoned that since Jesus had not taken up the sword against the Romans, perhaps He was not the one.  But the blind man saw in his darkness what others did not see.  Jesus had taken up the sword against evil, against slavery to sin, against the enemy of souls.  Only the Messiah could ever do that.  Temporal victory would never be greater or more needed than spiritual victory.  So he sat, he waited, and he learned.

As the days passed, one after another, the blind man sat, asking less often for money, and listening as attentively as he could … to stories, to miracles, to hope.  This where we find him, as Peter relays his life to John Mark in chapter ten, picking up in verse 46 saying … “And they came to Jericho: and as he went out of Jericho with his disciples and a great number of people, blind Bartimaeus, the son of Timaeus, sat by the highway side begging.”  A procession was beginning this was to be the start of something great, of something Israel had not seen since David had moved the ark to its final resting place.  But Bartimaeus did not know this.  He was only in the middle of his day, in the middle of his routine.  He sat begging.  Something was different on this day though, Bartimaeus could feel it.  The chills upon his skin were not from the heat, or from the cold, but from something that transcended them both.

John Mark continues in verse 47 saying … “And when he heard that it was Jesus of Nazareth, he began to cry out, and say, Jesus, thou Son of David, have mercy on me.”  When Bartimaeus heard his wildest hopes confirmed, he knew the chills upon his skin were from the Spirit’s influence.  Though he sat in darkness he began to proclaim the great Light that had arisen this day.  Bartimaeus the beggar had for the moment become Bartimaeus the prophet.  The words he spoke to Jesus were not just a plea for healing, they were a recognition of His lineage from the house of David.  This tie to David was the biggest link to revealing that Jesus was indeed the true Messiah.  Israel must hear him.  Jesus must hear him.  But he did not know how far away Jesus might be, so his words must be clear, and loud.

Mark continues in verse 48 saying … “And many charged him that he should hold his peace: but he cried the more a great deal, Thou Son of David, have mercy on me.”  His friends and family began trying to shut him up.  They did not want to be embarrassed by this obviously destitute man screaming in the streets.  They had never heard him behave like this.  His words were clear, confident, assertive, and loud.  He was not just speaking, he was testifying.  What is more, his words are worth further examination.  His cry was now beyond a request to heal his infirmed body, but to wipe away his sins, from the Mercy only “thou Son of David” could do.  He wanted to see, but wanted to see himself forgiven and set free as well.  Instead of complying with his family and friends to quiet down, the Spirit had moved him to speak louder, and to ask for more.

John Mark continues in verse 49 saying … “And Jesus stood still, and commanded him to be called. And they call the blind man, saying unto him, Be of good comfort, rise; he calleth thee.”  His cries had been heard, but the significance of what was occurring was lost on him.  Jesus had stood still.  The procession had been halted.  This procession as we will later read and find out, was the great procession of the Messiah into Jerusalem, where the praise of an entire nation would greet our Lord.  It was the one time, He would accept our praise openly, and not ask for quiet.  It would fulfill prophecy.  Yet for the moment, it had been halted.  Because the cries of Bartimaeus and his needs had been heard.  Our God is the God of the Universe.  He has important work to do.  He has prophecies to fulfill.  But He will stand still to hear what you have to say, and meet your needs even if it delays His for the moment.

Peter continues his recollection in verse 50 saying … “And he, casting away his garment, rose, and came to Jesus.”  In full cold chills running from head to toe now, Bartimaeus emulates king David before him, and casts off his garment.  He will meet His Lord in absolute humility as David did and danced before the ark so many years before.  It was Israel who did not comprehend this significance on this day, but Jesus did, for it was He who sat on the Mercy seat of that same ark and witnessed David’s dance all those years ago.

John Mark continues in verse 51 saying … “And Jesus answered and said unto him, What wilt thou that I should do unto thee? The blind man said unto him, Lord, that I might receive my sight.”  Again the words of Jesus should give us pause.  Our God asks Bartimaeus, just as He asks us in every prayer we pray, and every church service we attend … what will you have me do unto you?  This is not constricted to our pressing physical needs.  And our request could be so much bigger than that.  But Bartimaeus has been blind forever, and he wished more than anything to see His Lord.  Even if only short lived that sight would be one for the ages.  So Bartimaeus asks only for his sight.

Mark continues in verse 52 saying … “And Jesus said unto him, Go thy way; thy faith hath made thee whole. And immediately he received his sight, and followed Jesus in the way.”  Jesus heals him.  Then Jesus offers him a test.  His faith has made him whole, he will see immediately.  He has waited a lifetime for this.  Perhaps he has many things he needs to do.  Perhaps he wants to see his parents or other family members to celebrate what Christ has done for him.  Perhaps he has money to earn, or people to feed.  You know, all the excuses we make, when Christ has done something for us, and we rush away to do … those things we believe we need to do.  Not him.  Not Bartimaeus.  He joins the procession.  Whatever else he may believe he has to do, or wants to celebrate.  Bartimaeus will wait until he is done following His Lord.

If instead of leaving our Lord, after He works miracles on our behalf, we stayed with Him – perhaps we too could become part of the procession.  Perhaps we could become part of something historic, if we were willing to postpone our plans, and seek to follow Him becoming part of His plans.  Our celebrations can wait.  Our responsibilities can wait.  Our loved ones can wait.  Our opportunities to follow are often the things that cannot wait or be delayed, they are time sensitive from Jesus’ perspective.  We are not lost because we do not pursue them, but we lose the privilege of helping save others because we miss out, we are not there, we are too busy doing our thing, instead of following to do His thing.

Bartimaeus spoke out like a crazy man.  He was prophesying even though he was not a prophet up to then.  But he allowed the Spirit to use him, and through him was the formal identification of the Son of David.  Through the symbolism he employed, he reminded Israel of David’s humility before the Mercy seat on the ark.  The same Mercy seat on which Christ sat invisible to our eyes, He was now fully visible to all eyes.  Bartimaeus reminded us of petition in humility casting away his pride in his garment, and revealing who he was to all who could see.  David had done that too.  There was not erotic intentions or thoughts in these gestures, only to be vulnerable to God in front of all of Israel.  Bartimaeus could have been “put away” for his behavior, but instead he became part of the greatest procession in the history of Israel.  What might we witness, if we put away our pride, and cried out as the Spirit leads, even if we look like a lunatic in the process?