“Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!” These words have historical significance in the life of the church. They are prayed by monks in monasteries and by millions of people outside the monastic environment around the world. I think it is safe to say that it is being prayed right this very moment by countless people, some of whom may be holding a prayer rope to track the rhythm of the prayer. Known as the Jesus Prayer, the most common English version is: Lord, Jesus Christ, Son of God, Have mercy on me, and it dates back to that day on the Jericho roadside.
When people first discover the Jesus Prayer they may begin by first simply focusing on getting the words right. As the practice develops and deepens, the prayer moves away from the head and into the heart. We move from seeing and hearing the words to the words taking on a life within us. Beginning in the East and eventually moving West, it is a prayer that has revolutionized the spiritual life of many. It began with a humble beggar crying out for mercy, and has fostered an unceasing and ever-deepening conversation with God. The Jesus Prayer is very much a Mantra prayer not unlike those we hear from our brothers and sisters in Eastern traditions. These types of contemplative prayer practices promote a deep connection with God.
Today’s Gospel recounts the story of Bartimaeus calling out from his physical darkness and reaching for a divine touch of healing from the traveling Jewish Rabbi Mystic Jesus. This was Bartimaeus’ moment and he wasn’t going to let it pass him by. And so he cries out to Jesus … for mercy.
Try to imagine for a moment absolute darkness. Maybe you are out in the country on a moonless night where there is no light pollution and it is pitch black – so dark you cannot even see your hand in front of your face; or in your home when the power fails in the middle of the night and you are without candles or matches, or a flashlight. In your own house that you know so well in daylight, you are now feeling around in the dark running your hands along the walls and careful with each step so not to stumble. Or even worse, you are paralyzed by fear in the dark and not able to move at all. Even if you have 20/20 vision, you still cannot see when the natural world becomes so utterly dark.
Now, imagine the power is restored and the room is flooded with artificial light again; or after making it through the dark night, dawn ushers in the sunrise to once again bathe the world in light. The world around you is once again bright and colorful, awakening your senses. But what do you see? And more importantly, how are you seeing? Because a life with sight is one thing, but having vision is another.
Now back to that roadside in Jericho. There is an important lesson to be learned from the teaching in this story. Bartimaeus’ physical blindness, as real as is was, is also a metaphor for a deeper, darker blindness within us – a spiritual blindness. So many of us walk through life with our eyes wide open, yet we comprehend little of its meaning because we are inwardly blind. Those who are physically blind are well aware of their handicap, but those who are spiritually blind are usually less aware.
In 12-Step Recovery, the essential first Step calls for us to admit that we are powerless over the dark forces of our addiction and that our lives have become unmanageable. It is a cry from the Jericho roadside of our life that says: “I am an alcoholic, and my life is spinning out of control, please help me!” It is from this cry that the seed of a spiritual awakening is planted – the first brick of a healthy spiritual foundation is put in place. But we have to ask for it for ourselves. In the second Step we “Came to believe that a Power greater than ourselves could restore us to sanity.” In the third Step “We made a decision to turn our will and our lives over to the care of God.” This feels a lot like a Bartimaeus moment – We cry out for mercy. We believe that God can restore us, and in faith, we give ourselves over to the care of that Power.
But, as we quickly learn, like Bartimaeus, our physical ailment was just the tip of the iceberg. The real work of recovery – the work of restoring our spiritual life – lies beneath the surface. And when we completely give ourselves to that inner work, eventually we are led to a spiritual awakening we never thought possible. What was true for Bartimaeus is true for us: It’s an inside job.
Jesus performed two miracles for Bartimaeus. He restored sight to his eyes and gave insight to his heart. In his liberation he found new spiritual perception that told him there was more to see, so he followed Jesus, drawn by the words, “It is your faith that has made you whole.
Today’s Gospel is about the spiritually handicapped, not the visually impaired. Jesus is inviting us to tell him what we want him to do for us – to say, “I want to see.” It calls for a faith strong enough to make miracles happen, and the courage to live with the consequences once we have experienced the miracle of enlightenment. It may mean that we are less preachy and more prophetic, living justly, loving tenderly, and walking humbly before God.
We live in a time that requires clear vision. Without it, we are vulnerable to the forces that threaten us with fear and all sorts of spiritual malady. In the prophetic words of Isaiah, we are like those without eyes groping for light in our existential darkness, searching for meaning and for truth. And then we hear the voice of the blind Bartimaeus crying out from the margins – crying out from his own darkness – “Jesus, have mercy on me” and we are reminded that we are not powerless. The light of hope shines. It shines around us and within us. If only we have eyes to see.
I offer you these words of the Buddhist Evening Gatha.
Let me respectfully remind you,Life and death
are of supreme importance.
Time swiftly passes by and opportunity is lost.
Each of us should strive to awaken…Awaken…
take heed!Do not squander your life!
Brother Dennis
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