In previous weeks, we heard Gospels about division, money worship, and people thirsting for power. Everyone held on to something like life rafts while their lives were sinking in greed.
On this occasion, Jesus passes by Jericho on his way to Jerusalem. He needs to rush before dusk falls. As he tries to leave Jericho through the city’s gates, he hears the deafening noise of caravans, pilgrims, and vendors selling goods while beggars wander, hoping for a penny from the many who come to the gates. A blind man, motionless, sitting on his cloak, is there begging for survival from those who pass by.
He suddenly overheard that it was Jesus the Nazarene. Bartimaeus was electrified, thrilled by a jolt of hope, raised his head, and revived. He was blind but could shout, so he started to cry out his hopes.
“Kyrie Eleison,” he cries—the most Christian prayer, the oldest, and the most human. It is repeated by lepers, women, sinners, saints, and the blind.
The crowds around him drown out his shout: “Hush! Don’t bother!” It’s distressing when someone’s hope disrupts. Bartimaeus shouts even louder, struggling against the darkness and the shushing crowd.
The Nazarene heard the cry and summoned him, “Courage, arise, he calls you.” Hearing Jesus call him was the fuel he needed, and he threw his cloak.
Jesus said, “You are healed!” Suddenly, Jesus’ face became clear. His first memory was imprinted forever in his heart; he knew he wanted to follow him as the eleventh-hour disciple.