I Want to See

Over the last year, we’ve heard how the promise of eternal life changes our perspective on problems, allowing us to see problems with an eternal, godly perspective instead of an urgent, human perspective. And we saw how, with our permission, God puts us into a training program to help us learn to live godly, holy lives. Then we saw how God’s model of the servant leader drives us to help other people rather than look upon others as our servants. We saw how understanding our relationship to God keeps us from becoming arrogant, and how prayer keeps us humble. We talked about how God requires and helps us keep our integrity, and we found out that following Jesus is far more important than following rules.

And today? Today we go back in time to a particular day, long, long ago. You are sitting around, listening to a middle-aged man tell a story. The man came to your town a while back and he tells stories. Today, he is telling the story of a specific day, a day in the springtime of the year 34 AD, a day when he was a young man caught up in an exciting time, a time of passion, a time of change. You can see his eyes flash as so many older men do when telling a story about their younger days, and you know that his story is true, because you know this man and his stories are always true. He’s in the middle of the story when you come up and hear him speaking. He’s talking about a day when he was on a journey, on a pilgrimage. He had already talked about events on the journey, but now he spoke about a town, an old, old town. He talked to us about how him and his friends had been staying in an ancient town called Jericho….

“…And so we left Jericho. Such an old city, Jericho. Jericho was the city at the base of the mountain that led up to Bethany and then over to Jerusalem. Jericho, just north of the Dead Sea near where the Jordan River flows into that body of killing salt water after plunging a thousand feet down from the Sea of Galilee over a distance of a hundred miles. They say it might be the oldest city in the world. It certainly was a city full of history – the place where Joshua, the great leader of ancient Israel had marched the great army of Israel around the city seven times, the city walls had fallen, and the army had ransacked the place – all but the home of Rahab the prostitute. Joshua had protected a prostitute because she worshipped God and helped Israel.

We were following a Joshua – Y’shua of Nazareth, the man the Romans called Jesus. He also took care of prostitutes and he took care of beggars and he was nice to collaborators and those men who collected the taxes for the Romans – he even had recruited one of them to join our group, Levi, the one the Romans called Matthew. There must have been a hundred people in our group walking along with the Rabbi Jesus.

Jericho is a beautiful place. There is a large spring there where water comes pouring out of the ground – they say that’s why the town was founded there thousands of years before King David. It’s a place with good water, wonderful fertile ground that comes from the dirt when the Jordan river overflows, and a long history. Too bad the Herod’s have their summer palace there, though I can understand why. If I were a king, it’s the sort of place I’d build a summer palace.

The road was busy. Everybody was headed toward Jerusalem for the Passover. Everyone from Galilee takes the road down in the valley to Jericho and then up, up, up the steep cliff road to Bethany and then Jerusalem, because if you try a more direct way, you have to meet with Samaritans. And you know that Samaritans are evil people. They claim to be descendants of Jacob, but don’t worship in Jerusalem.

As I said, the road was busy. The air was pleasant and the sunshine was bright. Families had their luggage on their donkeys or were riding on an oxcart. I’ll tell you, the dust was flying and the smell was something else. You put more than ten thousand people on the road for a week without a bath and that is some smell. Plus, you have all their animals and what they leave on the road.

But just as we left Jericho, the magical thing happened. Just as we were starting to walk uphill, the beautiful thing began. Just as the road began to get tough, the people of God came together and the most beautiful song poured out of them, the first of the Songs of Ascents that we sang as we ascended from that hot valley up, up, up on the way to the Temple of God, where God’s glory can be found, where life and hope are found on this earth.

The hill was steep and hard to climb, and so we sang the 120th Psalm:

I call on the Lord in my distress,
and he answers me.
2 Save me, O Lord, from lying lips
and from deceitful tongues.

3 What will he do to you,
and what more besides, O deceitful tongue?
4 He will punish you with a warrior’s sharp arrows,
with burning coals of the broom tree.

5 Woe to me that I dwell in Meshech,
that I live among the tents of Kedar!
6 Too long have I lived
among those who hate peace.
7 I am a man of peace;
but when I speak, they are for war.

Meshech – the lands of far Assyria where the Romans fought the Parthians and Kedar, the tents of the desert people, always at war. Oh, yes, O Lord! I was glad I lived in fair Galilee, a land of beautiful olive trees and grapevines, a well-watered land with the beautiful lake of fresh water and the safety that comes from living in a secure country. But I could feel arrows and burning coals beginning in my thighs as I climbed that long hill.

Yes, the 120th Psalm they sang and there was a pause. A wonderful pleasant breeze blew up from the valley, moving around the sparse vegetation as though an invisible Being were walking past us, letting us know that God was indeed with us, as God’s breath filled the people and moved the new leaves on the trees back and forth as they danced to God’s gentle music. It was clear to all of us in the company that the Lord was with us, for Jesus had taught us to see God through the things His Father does in this world. We later learned that this breeze had been God’s breath, God’s Holy Spirit in action around us.

Then, all the people began to sing the 121th Psalm:

I lift up my eyes to the hills—
where does my help come from?

2 My help comes from the Lord,
the Maker of heaven and earth.


And at that moment we heard the shout:

“Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!”

It was a blind beggar sitting beside the road. He’d heard that Jesus was passing by and he had shouted just as the song was being so beautifully sung.

We told him to be still, we wanted to listen to the song and he was interrupting, but he kept yelling “Son of David, have mercy on me!” over and over again. We were trying to worship God, the singing was beautiful, the view was wonderful, we were enjoying ourselves thinking about the wonderful sights and sounds and smells of the temple to come, with the roasting lambs and the glittering golden decorations and the incense and the sounds of the chofar – the ram’s horn blowing. We were trying to worship on the road, getting in the festival mood, when that irritating, constant, note of discord came blaring at us.

“Son of David, have mercy on me!” He kept shouting.

I looked at him. He was dirty – much dirtier than those of us on the road. I doubt if he’d bathed in months. His clothes were rags. He had a simple pottery bowl and not much else. His eyes rolled around as the eyes of the blind do, dull and lifeless. It made you wonder about the soul inside that dirty, stinking body.

Jesus stopped and said, “Call him.”

Jesus had heard the blind man’s cry. Jesus stopped at the blind man’s cry. Jesus, leader of thousands of people, had paid attention to this man because the man called out to Him.

We all stopped with Him. When Jesus stopped, we all stopped. The song stopped, too. The road noise stopped. The adults stopped talking and the kids were quiet. The animals were even silent.

So James and I walked over and called to the blind man, “Cheer up! On your feet! He’s calling you.” Throwing his cloak aside, he jumped to his feet and came to Jesus. I had to lead him – man, he stank!- but he walked straight and tall, not caring that he was being watched by dozens and hundreds of people. We all watched to see what would happen.

Here was a poor, stinking, blind beggar – and the greatest Rabbi of his time, face to face. But the beggar wasn’t the least bit concerned, he didn’t bow down, he wasn’t scared at all. Yet he had called Jesus “Son of David”. He knew that Jesus was of the royal line. It was as if the blind man – we found out later his name was Bartimaeus, the son of Timaeus. It was as if blind Bartimaeus knew the character of Jesus, as if he knew that Jesus loved all men and women, as if he knew already that this Rabbi, this leader, this royal prince of the house of David was different and cared for all people – not just the wealthy, or the fit, or the lovely or the powerful or the well-educated. Bartimaeus approached Jesus as a beloved child would approach a friendly, loving parent.

“What do you want me to do for you?” Jesus asked him.

The blind man said, “Rabbi, I want to see.” - “Rabbi, I want to see.”

Bartimaeus simply stated his need before Jesus. Nothing fancy, no wonderful speech. A simple statement. “Rabbi, I want to see.”

It reminded me of when Job had called out that he wanted to see God and argue his case before Him. This man wanted to see – and I don’t think he wanted to see the crowd or the animals or the road.

I think he wanted to see the Son of David that was standing before him:

· he wanted to see the One who had performed so many miracles,

· he wanted to see the One who had healed the paralyzed,

· he wanted to see the One who had walked on water,

· he wanted to see the One who had turned water into wine,

· he wanted to see the One who had healed sick men and women,

· he wanted to see the One who had driven out demons,

· he wanted to see the One that would be high priest.

· He wanted to see the One that he KNEW could heal his eyes.

· He wanted to see the Messiah of Israel, the Savior of all humans, the One that would inherit the throne of David!

· He wanted to see GOD walking on this earth!

52 “Go,” said Jesus, “your faith has healed you.” Not “my power”. Not “my wisdom”. Not even “my Father”. But “Your faith has healed you.”

Immediately, poor, dirty, stinking, blind Bartimaeus received his sight and followed Jesus along the road, walking up the steep road that leads to Jerusalem and the difficult things that would happen there, just as we followed Jesus up that road – just as you follow him up that road. Bartimaeus, his eyes now glistening with joyful tears now was one of us, walking along beside me, looking back and forth, smiling as brightly as the sun. And as we walked along, the breeze and the pilgrim’s song began again…

I lift up my eyes to the hills—
where does my help come from?

2 My help comes from the Lord,
the Maker of heaven and earth.

But as bright-eyed Bartimaeus walked along with me, he was singing a different song, a song that poured from his heart. It was a very happy song – the man was smiling and looking all around, looking down over the edge of the cliff at Jericho far below. He was looking at the beautiful blue sky, he was looking at the pretty girls – but most of all he was looking at Jesus. Bartimaeus was singing, but he wasn’t singing one of the pilgrim songs, and so I moved over closer to him to hear what he kept singing in that crowd of people heading toward God’s house.

He was singing a part of the book of Job…what Job had said to God at the end of the book after God arrived in the whirlwind and spoke to Job, after Job had been tormented by Satan and Job’s four friends…Job responded to God:

4“You said, ‘Listen now, and I will speak;
I will question you,
and you shall answer me.’

5 My ears had heard of you
but now my eyes have seen you.

So many people I know have heard of Jesus, yet they have never tried to get close enough to see Jesus. They stay in the back of the crowd. Most people don’t even ask – they just walk along, many of them even claiming to follow Him, but they don’t even ask to see Jesus, to see Him made real to them, to ask for Him to come into their presence. They just assume that He is too busy or important or high-and-mighty to come to them. And so they just listen to what other people say about Jesus and never talk with Him in person, even though – as I’d seen over and over again – He really is a wonderfully pleasant person to talk to, and He doesn’t care who you are. If you want to meet Him, He will meet you. And just like Job, God’s power flows through your life and does the most good AFTER you have come to face-to-face with God.

So many times I’d seen Jesus come to people who had nothing – no farm, no home, no money, no possessions, no love – yet they had faith in Him. And it always seemed that the faith they had in Jesus gave them everything they needed. That faith led them to do great things, even though they were nobodies.

And I? I wondered how that blind man had such faith. Would YOU ever have such faith to believe in a Man you had never even seen? And that day I wondered - would I ever have such faith? Would I ever be able to believe without seeing first.

About that time, James came over to me and said, “Thomas, isn’t it a beautiful and grand day?”

And I suppose it was.

…

And so today, in this place, I’d like you to consider: Do you keep your distance from Jesus? Are you content to know from others that He is around, hearing what others say about Jesus, listening to their stories of Him, hearing about Him pass by in the distance - or do you want to be close to Him, walking beside Him, talking with Him directly, seeing Him?

Like blind Bartimaeus, to get close to Jesus, to speak with Him, and to see Him means that you need to take action. When Jesus passed by Bartimaeus, he did not contentedly sit in his seat and listen to others tell Him that his King was passing him by. Bartimaeus called to Jesus and then He walked to Jesus. And then Bartimaeus simply stated his need. He had faith that Jesus and the Holy Spirit would do what was right.

And so, when the wind blows the grass, remember that it is God’s breath in action. When everything goes right for you one day, remember that it is Jesus and the Holy Spirit clearing the way for you. When that nagging voice in the back of your mind says, “Stop, don’t do it!” and because you listened, you avoid something bad, it is the Living Spirit of the Living God speaking to you, walking beside you, touching you ever so gently. We see the invisible Creator by God’s actions in this world. And to see His Son, we look at the actions of His body, the people of the church.

And so, while we sing this song, I’m asking you – Do you want to speak to Jesus? Do you want to see Jesus? Do you want to become close to Jesus? If you are listening on the radio or on Facebook Live, perhaps you should pray where you are now, but also drive to our next service at 10:30 am.

If you are here in person, get up out of your seat, walk down to the altar rail, and pray to Him. You don’t have to kneel – Bartimaeus stood in front of Jesus. And I realize that you can pray in your seat, but there is something about taking a step forward to the altar rail which tells Jesus that you are serious and no longer content to just hear about Jesus, but that you now want to meet Jesus. So, even if you have attended this church for 50 years, even if you were saved and baptized 40 years ago, even if you show up every Sunday – today you should take the action to show Jesus that you are serious about Him and that He is worth a walk forward. Come to the altar rail and pray to Him. Get close and look to Him to See

Take this time to pray for your twelve people you are leading to Christ. Take this time to pray for them to come to know Christ and His love for us. Take this time to pray for God to save their souls.

Let us sing:

454 Open My Eyes, That I May See