So much of Christian spirituality tells us to ignore our bodies and labels our desires as selfish. In today’s reflection, Ragan Schriver suggests the story of Bartimaeus provides a counternarrative to that dualistic and shaming piety. Instead, Bartimaeus encounters the transforming love of Jesus precisely because he is willing to own – and proclaim – his deepest longings and the needs of his body.

October 27, 2024: Thirtieth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year B

Jeremiah 31:7-9

Psalm 126:1-6

Hebrews 5:1-6

Mark 10:46-52

The Sacred Act of Speaking Our Desires

A reflection by Ragan Schriver

In today’s gospel, we hear the story of Bartimaeus, a blind man who sits by the roadside as Jesus passes through Jericho. Hearing that it is Jesus walking by, Bartimaeus cries out, "Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!" Despite being rebuked by the crowd, he continues calling until Jesus stops and invites him to come forward. Jesus asks, "What do you want me to do for you?" Bartimaeus responds, "I want to see," and Jesus, moved by his faith, restores his sight.

For anyone who has felt marginalized or oppressed, the story of Bartimaeus can absolutely resonate in our hearts. Bartimaeus’ experience of being silenced by the crowd and disregarded for his vulnerability can connect with those of us in the LGBTQIA+ community who have faced marginalization, exclusion, or rejection. But also, women in the church, people who have suffered through a divorce, and people of color may have experienced those in power telling them their experience does not matter or their feelings are not valid. But Bartimaeus kept calling out to Jesus, despite the pressure to remain quiet. It feels to me like an act of courage—a reminder of the strength it takes to claim one’s voice and truth in the face of societal opposition.

But there are also other connections between Bartimaeus’ story that can be seen through an LGBTQIA+ lens. I’m not sure what you might want to hear today, but I will offer them so you can choose what you need!

The Power of Calling Out: Bartimaeus’ blindness not only represents his physical condition but also suggests his invisibility and isolation as a person on the margins of a community. I think LGBTQIA+ people of faith can also feel this way: our experiences discounted and pushed aside. Bartimaeus’ calling out to Jesus is an assertion of his worth.  He demands to be seen and acknowledged. Similarly, we may find ourselves in situations where our identity, struggles, or desires for wholeness are overlooked, diminished, or dismissed by others. Bartimaeus’ courage reminds us that calling out for justice, for healing, or for acceptance may not be well received but it is a necessary part of being a disciple.

The Crowd’s Silence and Jesus’ Call: The crowd around Bartimaeus attempts to silence him, as if his cries are a disruption or an annoyance. We, too, may encounter voices – whether from family, society, even our own church – that tell us to keep quiet, hide our true selves, or conform to norms that erase our authentic identity. But, just as Jesus does not listen to the crowd but instead invites Bartimaeus to approach, God’s love and attention transcend the judgment and restrictions of others. Jesus hears the cry of the marginalized and responds with compassion, this reminds me that God’s love is inclusive and welcoming.

The Goodness of our Desires: Jesus asks Bartimaeus – and he asks us – "What do you want me to do for you?" Bartimaeus tell Jesus just what he wants: to see. Jesus invites us to articulate our longings: for love, healing, belonging, or understanding – and without fear of judgment. There is no hint in the text that Jesus wanted Bartimaeus to ask for something less “selfish.” Jesus empowers Bartimaeus to name his need and desire, and Bartimaeus acknowledges his deepest yearning. For any of us who have been told that what we want, what we long for, is disordered and disallowed, Jesus’ question can feel freeing and transformative.

Transformation and Following: After Bartimaeus’ sight is restored, he is changed and so does not return to his previous life but follows Jesus. Our journey toward healing and wholeness leads not only to personal transformation but also to a deeper responsibility to Love’s connection to all creation. Our transformation in God’s love is for us, but not just for us. Like Bartimaeus, we who have been marginalized have a unique perspective on mercy, healing, and the power of community. The gift of our own transformation invites us to share our experience of what’s possible in the world.

To me, the story of Bartimaeus offers a message of hope and liberation. It reminds me of the importance of claiming my voice, resisting the forces that seek to silence or erase the experiences of others, and trusting that God’s love is present even in the midst of rejection. Jesus’ response to Bartimaeus shows me that my cries for help are not too small or insignificant to be heard, and that faith cannot be simply about conforming to society’s expectations. On the contrary, faith is about trusting in the radical, inclusive love of God.

Finally, the story of Bartimaeus reminds me that healing and wholeness can come not through denial or silence but through the courageous act of naming who I am and what I need. And trusting that God sees, hears, and loves me exactly as I am.

Ragan Schriver is a Clinical Professor of the College of Social Work at the University of Tennessee, Knoxville, and a priest for the Episcopal Diocese of East Tennessee. A long-time member of Dignity/Washington, he lives in Knoxville with his husband.

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