We have just heard one of my favorite stories found in the Gospels. I love this story of Bartimaeus. He’s a blind beggar, sitting by the roadside. When he hears that Jesus is passing by, he shouts, “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!” It’s a desperate cry from someone who knows that he can’t save himself. He’s been living a life that is so meaningless; a life of helplessness; a life of sorrow. He has been a person who has gone unnoticed; someone who has been so neglected. And we he begins to cry out to Jesus, what happens? People finally notice him. And then they try to silence him, as if his cry is inconvenient or disruptive…it’s certainly unwelcome. 

How often do we experience the same thing in our own lives? How are we like Bartimaeus? Every single one of us carries in our hearts deep moments of suffering, pains that have been inflicted on us, doubts about whether God really loves us, or struggles with trusting He has our best interests at heart. And yet, instead of expressing those things to the Lord, we so often keep them hidden. Maybe it’s fear of being judged, or we tell ourselves we just need to “tough it out”; “suck it up.” But like Bartimaeus, we have to come to a moment of realization that healing begins when we refuse to stay silent, and we choose to cry out to God with everything we’ve got. There’s no shame in needing help – our deepest cries are never too much for God to handle. 

When Jesus hears Bartimaeus calling out to Him, He stops. Think about the image for a minute; it’s an amazing one. God in human flesh pauses His journey for one man’s cry. And instead of assuming what Bartimaeus needs, Jesus asks, “What do you want me to do for you?” That’s not just a question for Bartimaeus – it’s a question for all of us. Jesus wants us to name our deepest desires, He wants us to share with Him the deepest longing of our hearts – even though He already knows what those things are. Why does He want us to do that? Because naming those things, giving voice to our needs, sharing them with the Lord is an act of faith; it shows how we trust God enough to bring Him our whole hearts. 

What’s even more striking about this story is that when Jesus calls him, what does Bartimaeus do? He throws off his cloak and runs to the Lord. But why is that such an important moment? Because of what that cloak symbolizes. It’s more than just protection from the cold; it likely carried whatever coins he had collected; it’s a symbol of his identity as a beggar. But Bartimaeus casts it aside, he totally leaves it behind without hesitation. That begs the question in us: what are the “cloaks” that we cling to? Is it pride that keeps us from admitting we need God? Is it fear of change? Is it the comfort of familiar sins? 

Jesus tells Bartimaeus, “Your faith has saved you.” The faith that Bartimaeus showed here is more than just simple belief – it’s an action. Bartimaeus didn’t just believe in Jesus; he acted on that belief by crying out, throwing off his cloak, and running to the Lord. This is the faith we’re called to – one that doesn’t wait for the perfect moment, one the doesn’t wait until we kind of have our act together, or until we are in a place where we think we are ready to be changed. Instead, it’s a faith that seizes every opportunity to encounter Jesus. 

And here’s the key about Bartimaeus: after receiving his sight, what does he do? He follows Jesus. His healing wasn’t just about physical sight; it was the beginning of a new life of discipleship. Jesus desires to do the very same thing in our lives. He doesn’t just want to restore us for our own sake – most importantly, He wants to invite us to follow Him, to leave behind whatever is holding us back, and to walk with Him on the road to life. 

In a few moments, Jesus is going to be passing by. He’s going to be in our midst. Recognize, like Bartimaeus – the Lord knows the deepest desires and longings of our hearts. Y’all, He hears your cry. And He’s asking: “What do you want me to do for you?” Today, right now, at this Mass, will you have the courage to ask Him boldly to fulfill your deepest desire? Will you let go of what’s holding you back? And most importantly, will you follow Him, trusting that the path He leads you on is far greater than anything you could ever leave behind? 

Painting: Eustache Le Sueur, Christ Healing the Blind Man, 1756. In the collection of Prussian Palaces and Gardens Foundation Berlin-Brandenburg. Wikimedia Commons. Used under public domain.