Son Of_____

Unless otherwise noted, all Scripture quotations are from the English Standard Version (ESV).

Luke does not mention his name. It is possible that he omits it for censorship reasons, given what the name means. We only know this blind man’s name because Mark is not so cautious when he retells the story in chapter 10 of his gospel: Bartimaeus.

It is two Hebrew words put together. Bar means “son” and tame means “filth” or “unclean.” His name literally translates to “son of filth.”

In the Old Testament, several words translate to unclean and filthy. Tame is just one of those words, and it has range. You could become tame if you touched an unclean animal (Leviticus 22:5), or even just its carcass (Leviticus 11:24). You could become tame if you touched a clean animal that happened to die naturally (Leviticus 11:39; 17:15). You could become tame if you touched a human corpse (Numbers 19:11; Ezekiel 44:25). You could become tame if you had leprosy (Leviticus 13:14), or even if you just walked into a house where leprosy had been (Leviticus 14:36). You could become tame through idolatry (Ezekiel 22:3), through sin (Psalm 106:39), and in Leviticus 18, the word shows up for sleeping with another man’s wife (Leviticus 18:20).

In Genesis 34, we find the terrible story of when Shechem, the prince of the Hivites, raped Jacob’s daughter Dinah. In verse 5, it reads: “Now Jacob heard that he had defiled his daughter Dinah. But his sons were with his livestock in the field, so Jacob held his peace until they came.” For the rest of the story, tame is used to describe what happened to Dinah.

Understanding the blind man’s name is not just a minor detail, but a pulling back of the curtain to understand the psychology of the beggar and those who knew him. Names were rooted in the ancient world’s understanding that a name expressed essence. To know a person’s name was to know the person’s total character and nature. Names could even express destiny.

Eve comes from the Hebrew chayah, which means life. Noah comes from the Hebrew noach, which means rest. Abraham means father of many nations—because he would be the father of many nations. Esau means hairy, because he came out hairy. Jacob means supplanter because he came out gripping his brother’s heel. Even the names Joshua and Jesus, which are the same name, come from the Hebrew word yasha, meaning “to save.”

But there are also many times when people defied the meaning of their names. Caleb means dog—and he was one of the most faithful men in Israel. Absalom means “my father is peace”—and he led a rebellion against his father.

The blind beggar’s name reveals to us a terrible fact about this man’s life: from the time of his birth, nothing was expected of him. We do not know the details of his birth or family history, but from his name, we can make a few assumptions.

Maybe his family was excited to have him. But as soon as he was born, and they found out he was blind, they were filled with shame and resented him. A second possibility is that his mother was raped, like Dinah was. Most societies, up until very recently, have always blamed women for being raped rather than their aggressors. Children were usually named by their fathers; since he did not have one, he was named after how he was conceived. And his blindness became the shame and sin of the mother. A third scenario is that his father did not want to bear the shame of a blind son. Since in first-century Palestine the person who named the child was the parent, the father wanted to distance himself as much as possible by giving him a different name.

We do not know the circumstances around his birth. But based on his name, we know they were not positive and could have been any of the above, or a combination of them. Whatever the circumstances, Bartimaeus lived with a name that told the world that God had abandoned him from the start of his life.

But would Bart defy the meaning of his name?

As Jesus approached Jericho, Bartimaeus heard the crowd and asked what was happening. They told him, “Jesus of Nazareth is passing by.” And he cried out, “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!” Those who were in front rebuked him, telling him to be silent. But he cried out all the more, “Son of David, have mercy on me!” (Luke 18:36–39).

Despite the crowd’s attempts to marginalize the beggar, Jesus commands the man to be brought to him. “And Jesus stopped and commanded him to be brought to him. And when he came near, he asked him, ‘What do you want me to do for you?’” (Luke 18:40–41).

What kind of question is this? There is a blind man on the side of the road asking for mercy, and Jesus asks, “What do you want me to do for you?” That is like going to the register at a grocery store with all your groceries, only to have the cashier look at you and ask, “What do you want me to do for you?” Well, it’s kind of obvious, isn’t it? Without understanding Jesus’ question, his inquiry appears insensitive. What else could a blind beggar on the side of the road be asking for? He needs healing from his darkness. To understand the question, we must see past the question. We must understand the cultural assumptions that everyone in the story is making that we are not.

In the time of Jesus, beggars were recognized as part of the community and understood to bring “services” to it. The rich were expected to give to the poor, and the poor were expected to beg. It was a social ecosystem. A beggar would not say, “Excuse me, do you have a few coins for a crust of bread?” Instead, they would sit in public places and challenge all those who passed by: “Give to God!” The beggars’ needs were beside the point; they were offering people an opportunity to fulfill their obligations to God. Giving to a beggar would improve a giver’s reputation because the beggar would stand to proclaim how honorable and pious the person was for their generosity. Begging, with the right disability, was a lucrative business.

The difficulty with taking begging as a career was that a beggar needed to have some physical handicap. A person with an amputated arm or leg could manage with success, but they could still learn other trades. A blind man, on the other hand, had guaranteed success. A blind man such as the beggar in this story has no education, training, employment record, or marketable skills. If healed, self-support would become extremely difficult. Can you imagine what this man’s resume would look like? Especially with the big letters up top: “son of ________.” He cannot go into town and get a job. He has no marketable skills except begging. He does not know how to do anything else.

Jesus’ question to the blind man is not a curious question. It is a test. What Jesus is really asking is: “Are you ready to accept the new responsibilities and challenges that will come to you if you are healed?” If his sight is restored, tomorrow cannot be business as usual. It is as the saying goes, “jumping out of the frying pan into the fire.” Or as another puts it, “Escape the bear and fall to the lion.” God’s grace is freely given to us, but it is not cheap to accept.

Bart responds, “Lord, I want to see” (Luke 18:41).

Bart has counted the cost. He knows that being healed of his blindness is not going to make his life any easier. But he also knows that this man is the Son of David; he knows that Jesus is the king. And if he is the king, then that means the Kingdom of God that has been long-awaited is here. A life of newfound difficulty is worth every pain and every struggle if it means he can see the king. He wants to see with his very own eyes what he has only heard. He refuses to have history come to pass only by ear; he wants to witness it with his own eyes.

God’s grace is freely given to us, but it is not cheap to accept. But it’s worth everything that we have. As the old hymn says, “Take the world but give me Jesus.” Jesus is enough for this man. And for this reason, Jesus says to him: “Receive your sight; your faith has healed you” (Luke 18:42).

When we read these stories, we read them with the emphasis that God can heal us from our illness. And as true as that may be, experience tells us that sometimes God does say no to our requests. When we read these stories, we do not consider how difficult the characters’ lives must have been after the miracle. Take Lazarus and the girl who was raised from the dead. They still had to continue living with all the pains and struggles of life; they still had to wrestle with illness and eventually die again. Or Zacchaeus, who got rid of all his wealth.

The greatest miracle in the story is not the healing, but the man’s faith. It is the man’s willingness to change his disposition for the king. The beauty of this story is the blind man’s willingness to throw away all that he knows for an arguably more difficult life with Jesus.

Many of us do not have it nearly as bad as Bartimaeus, but Jesus has asked all of us the same question every time we have gained an audience with him: “What do you want me to do for you?” God has been watching you your whole life, and you think God does not already know what you need? Our needs are as obvious as the blind man’s need. Jesus’ question is a test: Are you ready to accept the new responsibilities and challenges that will come if your desire is granted?

You might struggle with a cigarette or alcohol addiction and pray that God heals you. If God heals you from the addiction, life won’t be easier but possibly just as difficult. You have to deal with the painful process of reconstructing your life—making new friends, fighting the addiction, seeking reconciliation with all the people you hurt along the way. But there would be joy in the new struggle.

Jesus is asking you a question: What do you want me to do for you? This is not a curious question. It is a test. Are you ready to accept the new responsibilities and challenges that will come if your desire is granted? And although the new life may be difficult, I promise you that it’s worth it.

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This essay began as a sermon. You can listen to the audio here.