They came to Jericho. As [Jesus] and his disciples and a large crowd were leaving Jericho, 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” (Mark 10:46-47, NRSVUE)!
In many miracle accounts in the Gospels, the one being healed is nameless, which invites the reader to imaginatively themselves in their place. The account of the healing of a Bartimaeus in the Gospel of Mark at first appears to be an exception. But in the parallel accounts in Matthew and Luke, the name does not appear. And bar in Aramaic simply means “the son of”; the name itself is a phrase, “the son of Timaeus,” and it seems it gradually evolved into the proper name of the text.
Interestingly, the Greek name Timaeus is related to the word for value or price. The account thus accomplishes two things at the outset: 1) it invites the reader to imagine themselves as the beggar, who is the everyman, and 2) it introduces the themes of value or price. We might understand Bartimaeus as the “valuable one” who calls out to Jesus by name as he passes by in the street.
The Son of David
Perhaps the blind Bartimaeus, with an especially keen sense of hearing, heard whispers of Jesus’ name in the crowd, or had a sense of his presence through their hushed reverence. Either way, when Bartimaeus becomes aware that Jesus is there, he cries out to him for mercy: “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!”
The particularity of this cry requires vulnerability and courage. This is not the vague plea for mercy to anyone who would listen that Bartimaeus was accustomed to as a beggar. I imagine him, day after day on the street, calling out: have mercy, have mercy, have mercy. Anyone! Those who passed by without giving alms remained anonymous to him. Those who did give could choose to remain anonymous as well. Calling to an anonymous crowd meant that Bartimaeus was shielded from the pain of personal rejection, but it also meant that strangers felt free to slip past without stopping, without a human interaction—and Bartimaeus could simply fade into the background.
But this plea was directed at a particular man, not an anonymous crowd—and a man who was rumored to be the Messiah. Bartimaeus had to have known that calling out to Jesus by name placed a particular pressure on Jesus to respond, a kind of pressure he could not place upon strangers. But if he were to be ignored—especially by this man of God—this specificity would only serve to make rejection more painful.
The Son of Timaeus
Bartimaeus directs his cry to a particular person, but also cries out for Jesus to meet him in his own particularity—not merely “have mercy,” but “have mercy on me”—and this involves vulnerability and courage as well. A mere glance would have been all it would have taken to be acquainted with his situation. A blind beggar along the side of the road is all too easily passed by, having become a mere feature of the landscape for those who have seen many such beggars on the sides of many such roads.
But the particularity of this plea reveals that Bartimaeus has not lost his identity or sense of dignity, faced with the daily presence of an anonymous crowd who had lost the ability to recognize it. He had not allowed the experience of being persistently ignored to cause him to lose heart—or to lose himself. In calling out to Jesus as he passes by, Bartimaeus is not yet asking for the sight (that will come later), but crying out to be seen, to be acknowledged.
The crowd expected that Bartimaeus would fade quietly into the background, and therefore his cry for mercy is a nuisance to them, an annoyance. They demand his silence. Bartimaeus must have anticipated this reaction, and steeled himself to make that desperate cry, not only cherishing the hope Jesus was able to heal him, not only that Jesus was willing to restore his sight, but more fundamentally, that Jesus would really see him and recognize his value. The particularity of his cry involved the offering of a precious gift—the gift of himself.
Have Mercy On Me!
The vulnerability and courage of Bartimaeus can serve as a model for us, especially for those of us faced with our own anonymous crowds, our own sense of fading into the background. Bartimaeus did not lose himself when his identity and dignity were consistently ignored. And in crying out to Jesus to “have mercy on me,” he offered the himself as a gift, making a relationship possible. This plea can become our prayer as well. Through it, we can vulnerably and courageously offer ourselves to God, trusting that God will see us and recognize our value when others do not.
Hi Grant! Thanks for sharing your writing with us. Bartimaeus' words here have been my most often used prayer since I read The Way of a Pilgrim way back when I was an undergrad. If you haven't read it, I think you'd enjoy it.