I Need Help

As we begin to see ourselves and others with eyes of a compassionate heart...we hear the cries for mercy and act with grace and love. According to Jesus, this is the only yardstick by which God measures the faithfulness of one’s heart.

In 1996, Johnny Cash recorded the Carter Family song "Kneeling Drunkard's Plea," which tells the story of a man kneeling at his mother’s grave.

​Although the title of the song gives us some clue of why he didn’t make it home in time to say goodbye to his dying mother, he’s there now heartbroken and guilt-ridden. 

A Story of Grace and Redemption
​From The Perspective of Mark 10:46-52

Out of sheer desperation the man shouts up to God looking for mercy.
 
Now, how do you think God responds to this deeply painful cry for help? Depending on how you see yourself this song, the answer could be interpreted at least two ways.

​One perspective sees God as a stern judge who looks down upon the drunk. In disgust, God picks up an index card and begins to scribble down all the sins this drunk has committed that led up to this tragic moment.

Then God hands the card to an angel who rushes it to a warehouse filled with countless white cards just like this one. Everything this drunk has ever done is all being safely stored there until that fateful day he’s brought before God in judgment.
 
This is a widely held understanding in many Christian circles – one that leaves people full of anxiety and fear about their worthiness, and deeply skews their relationship with God, and not in any health way.
 
But there’s another perspective. One where God looks beyond this man mistakes, to his emptiness and despair. God feels the man’s pain and has empathy. God knows the drunkard’s story because God has walked with people just like him. People whose bad choices have made their life a living hell.
 
In this view, rather than condemning the man, God picks up a pencil and begins to erase his index card clean.

​From the first time when Abel’s blood cried out for justice, God has responded to our cries for mercy. In today's reading, we'll see how Jesus’ response reveals something important about God’s heart.

Bartimaeus son of Timaeus, a blind beggar, was sitting by the roadside. When he heard that it was Jesus of Nazareth, he began to shout out and say, “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!” Many sternly ordered him to be quiet, but he cried out even more loudly, “Son of David, have mercy on me!” Jesus stood still and said, “Call him here.” And they called the blind man, saying to him, “Take heart; get up, he is calling you.”  So throwing off his cloak, he sprang up and came to Jesus. Then Jesus said to him, “What do you want me to do for you?” The blind man said to him, “My teacher, let me see again.” Jesus said to him, “Go; your faith has made you well.” Immediately he regained his sight and followed him on the way.
                                                                                                         ​  - Mark 10:46-52

Like the man in the song, Bartimaeus finds himself desperate and on his knees, longing for healing. Life as a blind beggar has not been kind to him. I suspect most of us can relate in one way or another. Life can be cruel. In so many ways it leaves us blind and broken, crying out in dire need of God’s healing touch.
 
Now, let’s step back and put ourselves in the drunkard’s shoes. But this time, you’re holding the index card with everything you’ve done (or left undone), let’s say over the last couple of days.

If you view God as a strict judge, you might hesitate to cry out because it means you will have to present this card - fearing what God might do.

What does this answer say about your faith? Or lack of faith? More importantly, what does it say about God? Or God’s faithfulness?
 
Now, put yourself in Bartimaeus' shoes. Although your condition has reduced you to become a lowly beggar, there’s something inside you that causes you to proudly stand, with your card in your hand, and yell to Jesus. Something in you recognizes him as the Son of David, a title laden with expectation and hope.
 
Even though the crowd tries to shut you up, you’re relentless. Their doubts can’t silence you any longer. You got one shot to present yourself, as you are, and you take it. And Jesus notices and stops, asking, “What do you want me to do for you?” 
 
How do you answer? Would you respond with fear and trembling? Or like Bartimaeus who doesn’t let anything stop him from answering. He just wants to see again. And something inside him says Jesus can make that happen. We know what that something is because Jesus, without any hesitation, tells him “Go; your faith has made you well.”
 
Like so many other people Jesus meets, it was faith that healed this man’s blindness. It was his faith that allowed him to see who Jesus is. The one God sent to save us from ourselves.

As Brennan Manning wrote, “Jesus comes for sinners, for us who are outcast or caught up in squalid choices and failed dreams.” That could be any one of us.
 
Now, imagine had Bartimaeus feared God, instead of trusting in what God is capable of doing? Fear blinds us from truly seeing the beauty of God’s grace and love that Jesus offers.

​But faith is the antidote to fear.

This sermon is different than what you are reading. I decided to say something different today. 

There are so many good people out there right now wondering if the stuff they’ve done has somehow rendered them unforgivable. I suspect that was the case with the kneeling drunkard. This perspective makes us spiritually blind.
 
Jesus shows us who God is and what God can do - hearing our cries and acting with compassion. No matter how big or small your faith is, as Jesus has demonstrated with his own life, God meets us where we are, with love not judgement.
 
Each month, at communion, we remind ourselves that no matter how far we stray, we are never beyond the boundaries of God’s unfailing love. So, why then do we continue to be fearful of God, closing our eyes to all that Christ wants to give us.
 
Just as you blind yourself, believing you’re not worthy, Jesus open your eyes to show you that your worth isn’t based on anything you’ve done or do. It’s strictly based on God’s faithfulness to us, and the everlasting love which seals that covenant bond God made with the world.
 
Jesus doesn’t ask anything from Bartimaeus other than to answer the question. He didn’t say, let me see what’s on your card. Or ask him to explain why he thinks he deserves to see again. Jesus just said, “Go, your faith has made you well.” And that’s all Jesus asks of us.
 
To go live our lives faithfully - making God’s love visible and tangible and real. Go, and love your neighbor…your co-worker, your political rival. Go, and give your heart and a hand up to someone in need. Go, and be a living testimony to God’s greatness a beacon of light that illuminates the darkness so others can see their way back to God’s heart.
 
Which is exactly what Bartimaeus does. As soon as he received his sight, Mark writes, “he immediately followed him on the way.” And like I point out, the way of Jesus is the way of love.
 
So, here’s the thing, Jesus doesn’t focus on what’s written on our index cards. All he wants from us is a faithful heart; one that is willing to show our love for God and others, in the many ways we serve both.
 
Jesus not only opens our eyes to see the divine in all people, but he also opens our hearts to be a conduit for God’s love - connecting the space between heaven to earth, and you to me.
 
As we begin to see with eyes of a compassionate heart, we are able to see Jesus in the eyes of the hungry we feed, in the smile of naked we clothe, in the vulnerability of the sick and dying. With the eyes of a compassionate heart, we hear the cries for mercy and act with grace and love. According to Jesus, this is the only yardstick by which God measures the faithfulness of one’s heart.
 
So as we go out into the world, let us remember that faith is more than just a personal belief; it's a powerful force that heals, restores, and transforms our world from the inside out.
 
No matter where you are or what you’re going through, you can stand before God knowing Christ has already erased your index card clean.
 
And in case you were wondering how  that wonderful song concludes, Cash sings, 'Three years have passed since she went away. Her son is sleeping beside her today. And I know that in heaven his mother he sees, for God has heard that drunkard's plea.'  
 
Through Christ, God hears our cries, opens our eyes, and brings us home. So, next time you find yourself crying out, “Lord, have mercy on me,” I hope that you will remember you’re not alone. God is with you. Always has been, and always will be. Which means God already knows what we’ve done, and still chooses to claim us and name us The Beloved.
 
If that isn't Good News, if that doesn’t make your heart sing, then “Lord, have mercy on me.”

 
 
 
Works Cited
Based on a sermon Lord Have Mercy originally given on October 25, 2015.
Bartlett, David L., Barbara Brown Taylor, ed. Feasting on the Word, Year B, Vol. 4. Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 2009.
Cash, Johnnie. Kneeling Drunkard's Plea. Cash. American: 1997.
Manning, Brennan. The Ragamuffin Gospel: Good News for the Bedraggled, Beat Up, and Burnt Out. Colorado Springs: Multnomah Books, 2005.