THE TEXT BELOW IS THE TRANSCRIPTION OF THE VIDEO COMMENTARY BY FR. FERNANDO ARMELLINI

Video Text Download version

A good Sunday to all. 

We often use the verb ‘to see’ and the term ‘blindness’ metaphorically and symbolically. We say, ‘There is no one more blind than he who does not want to see,’ or to someone who is mistaken, we say, ‘Open your eyes; you don’t realize who you are dealing with,’ or to someone who ‘only sees money,’ or ‘sees all black,’ or ‘sees far away.’ 

The symbolism of the verb “to see” and of blindness is often found in the Bible, in both the Old and New Testaments. The prophets Ezekiel and Jeremiah say of Israel, ‘This is a foolish people who have eyes but do not see and behave like the blind; they proceed heedlessly into danger and do not realize that they are on the edge of a precipice and then have fallen into the ravine.’ They did not let their eyes be opened by the prophets and ended up in exile in Babylon. The book of Isaiah speaks of a mysterious person sent by the Lord to open the eyes of these blind people and bring them out of the darkness of the Babylonian exile. A prophet living among these exiles makes the promise of an intervention by the Lord and assures that one day the eyes of these people will be opened. 

In the New Testament, the same image appears; Jesus often uses it with his disciples. He tells them, ‘You are blind, you have a hardened heart, you have eyes, but you do not see.’ Speaking of the scribes and Pharisees, he says, ‘They are blind and guides of the blind.’ Then he says, ‘A blind man cannot lead another blind, for they both end up in a pit.’ Jesus presents himself as the eye-opener, the light of the world shrouded in darkness; therefore, humanity moves in darkness and risks going to ruin. 

It is what we also fear. Too often, we ask ourselves as humanity, “Where are we going?” We see the environmental crisis, the waste of resources, the brief consumption, the spread of violence, and the selfish hoarding of the goods of creation. We amuse ourselves with digital toys, but where is our humanity going? We need someone to open our eyes, and Jesus presents himself as an eye-opener. He also says, ‘Let there be light among you; walk while you have light, for the one who walks in darkness does not know where he is going.’ 

In the first letter of John, it is said that ‘he who hates his brother is in darkness, he walks in darkness; he does not know where he is going because the darkness of selfishness has blinded his eyes.’ The baptized in the early church were called ‘the enlightened ones,’ those whose eyes had been opened by the word of the Gospel: ‘ois futistentes’ = the enlightened ones. In Justin’s first apologia, baptism is called ‘the illumination.’ 

Today’s Gospel passage presents us with the healing of Bartimaeus, a blind man. The story is much more than a chronicle page. Jesus healed a blind man, but the story is much more than a chronicle by the evangelist Mark; it becomes a parable in which the passage from blindness is told in the light of Christ and the Gospel. Let us first listen to the description of the condition of the person who has not yet known Christ and of the blind. Let us listen: 

Jesus and his disciples came to Jericho. As he was leaving Jericho with his disciples and a sizable crowd, Bartimaeus, a blind man, the son of Timaeus, sat by the roadside begging. 

The evangelist Mark places the healing of Bartimaeus at the exit of Jericho. At the time of Jesus, the city was not where you see it in the background, in the plain, as the present city is, but it was there, where you see that medieval ruin of the city of Jericho, which has no importance. From there, it extended along the coast, a few hundred meters toward the plain. I point them out more clearly in this other picture; in the background, you can see the green extending along the mountain. That’s where the city of Jericho was built. Notice also a peak; there, King Herod the Great had built one of his many fortresses, which protected the Roman road from Jericho to Jerusalem, a very dangerous stretch. To this fortress, he had given the name of his mother, Cipros, a Nabataean. 

Jericho is the city of palm trees, the city of balsam, whose composition was a secret forbidden to be revealed. It was the city of the second houses of the rich people of Jerusalem, whose palaces were built in Jericho; you can see the remains in the background, at my back. I show you again this Roman road that went up to Jerusalem, and again the Cipros fortress, and you can see in the background the peaks of the Mount of Olives. From there, you can see the city of Jerusalem. 

I said this road was dangerous because it had ravines and was infested with thieves. Jesus places in the wilderness of Judah the parable of the Samaritan who rescues the wretched man who had fallen into the hands of robbers. Jesus arrived at Jericho with his disciples, and there was a great multitude because pilgrims were going to Jerusalem, and he was about to arrive at his destination; there were 27 kilometers to go. Let’s see the place where the encounter with Bartimaeus took place. I will show you that ruin again, next to which the Roman road passed, where the city of Jericho ended. 

That is the place where Jesus met Bartimaeus. For the beggars, the exit of the city of Jericho was the ideal place to stop and ask for help from the well-disposed pilgrims because it was Passover time. They did not give alms out of mercy, for if one was blind, it was because of misfortune or sins. They did it because it was a duty to give alms. 

Let’s see who this character is. We will now read the story not as a historical fact (Jesus indeed healed a blind man) but as a parable of the passage from the darkness of blindness to the light. He who had no meaning in his life when he met Christ finally receives the light that guides his existence and gives it meaning in this world. This man’s name is Bartimaeus, the son of Timaeus. It is not his first name; it is his last name; it indicates who his father is, and this Timaeus is emphasized to help us understand what the evangelist wants to tell us. ‘Mae’ in Greek means honor; this is the son of those who seek recognition. 

The evangelist tells us that this is the origin of the blindness in which people who have not yet received the light of Christ are moving. They believe that the only goal that gives meaning to life is honor, prestige, power, wealth, pleasures… In reality, this is the blindness of Jesus’ disciples, who have not yet had their eyes opened to the true meaning of life. What do they do? They are watching… they are walking toward Jerusalem, but they are looking to the right, a few hundred meters away, at Herod’s palaces. That is their dream; they point to this vainglory. Jesus has not yet succeeded in opening their eyes to make them understand that the true glory is not that of Herod the Great, nor that of those who possess palaces; the true glory is that which he will manifest by laying down his life. 

Let us now examine the characteristics of this blind man who has not yet known Christ and whose eyes are opened. He is seated and enveloped in darkness; standing, he cannot move because he would not know where to go; others always accompany him; he is in the same place every day; he repeats the same gestures, the same movements, the same words; so, rather than living, he limits himself to vegetating and does not cultivate ideals that go beyond the satisfaction of his immediate needs. 

The parable is the image of the life of those who do not have a life, who do not see the ultimate meaning of life; they are caught in a perpetual, cyclical succession of being born, living, and dying without a goal. You go to elementary school, then middle school, then high school, and you get excellent grades in college; once you graduate, you find a profession, then you start a family, and you have children. Those who must do well in elementary, middle, high, college, university… This cycle keeps repeating itself, but why all this? 

It’s what the Qohelet (Ecclesiastes) says: “One generation passes away, another generation comes, but the earth always remains the same; the sun rises and sets, it hastens to return where it is reborn.” We are in the first chapter of the book of Qohelet. The conclusion is that, in this cycle, all is vanity; there is no ultimate meaning; one is in the condition of Bartimaeus. He who has not opened his eyes and has not grasped the meaning and goal of his life is blind. 

The second characteristic of this blind man is that he is on the side. He is the image of those who live on the margins of history. There is a history that remains; it is that of those who collaborate in building the kingdom of God in the world, the kingdom of those who love, of those who lay down their lives for love. These are on the path that Christ marks out. Those who are off this path, those who are bent on this world’s goods, those who are in pursuit of their success, honor, and selfish interests, are out of the way and of Jesus; they will leave no trace of their passage in this world; their history will be erased. 

Third characteristic: He is a beggar; begging for alms, he collects them in his cloak, which he has placed between his knees. In the parable, the one who has not opened his eyes and does not see clearly the meaning of life becomes a beggar; he begs for everything, for approval, for praise, and for the flattery of those around him. To get it, he is ready to do anything, even to flatter and lie. 

Let’s ask ourselves: isn’t the recourse to cosmetic surgery, tattoos, piercings, and hair implants just begging for attention? Everything is about attracting attention. With the alms, you get a little bit of attention, but it’s just a small change… what’s it good for? If you live for it, you’ll make do with very little; the true values of life are elsewhere, not in this begging. Qohelet says very well in chapter three: “God has made everything beautiful, and he has put in people’s hearts the desire of the infinite…” –‘aolam.’ The person is made for the infinite, not for these small changes that are begged for. He who has his eyes open has understood the meaning of his existence, is aware of his value, does not need to beg for esteem and attention, and is happy as he is. 

What is the salvation of these blind people? It is to find someone who will open their eyes and make them look up. That’s what happened to Bartimaeus; he was fortunate enough to meet Jesus. Let us listen: 

When he heard that it was Jesus of Nazareth, he began to cry out, ‘Jesus, son of David, have pity on me.’ Many rebuked him, telling him to be silent. But he kept calling, ‘Son of David, have pity on me.’ 

Bartimaeus is the image of someone who, in a moment, realizes he is leading a meaningless, unacceptable life and looks for a way out. Some adapt to their condition, clinging to their blindness and their life, getting ahead in any way, living on alms, while others take pleasure in their state. Bartimaeus is not like that. He represents those who today are dissatisfied with a life devoid of values and high ideals and are not resigned to the darkness in which they are immersed. The models of life they once admired, which they were trying to reach at that moment, disappointed them. You have to let these anxieties emerge, let them speak; don’t silence them, because they lead to the search for the one who can open the eyes to a new light. 

Bartimaeus does not see, but he knows how to listen. Amid the confusion of so many overlapping voices, he catches one of them, the voice of Jesus, the only voice that can take him out of his condition of non-life. Here is the message of the parable: the encounter with Christ, the one who can open your eyes, is reached by listening to his word, which is his Gospel. It is this Gospel that opens your eyes and answers your worries. Bartimaeus turns to Jesus and, to him, cries out for help, overcoming his hesitations, fears, and shame because he does not want to remain in that state. One should not be ashamed to become aware of one’s spiritual blindness and to express dissatisfaction when one cannot give meaning to one’s life. 

And he calls Jesus by his name: ‘Yoshuá’ means the one who saves. Salvation is not being taken to paradise, where the heavenly Father welcomes all. Salvation must be today, as soon as possible; you must let your eyes be opened by the word of Jesus and his Gospel to lead an authentic life. This is Jesus, the name of the one who saves. And Bartimaeus began to cry out, and his cry disturbed many people. Who do these people, disturbed by this shout, represent? Mark is doing catechesis; they represent those who feel the same anguish as Bartimaeus because they are blind like him, but they want to be left alone because they are attached to their condition and have adapted to a life that is not life. Mark wants to tell us that those who seek the light of Christ must also consider these difficulties, these oppositions, these misunderstandings. 

The first opposition comes from those who try to discourage those who seek the light; they invite him to give up, to forget about it, and to think about enjoying life as everybody else does, not to give importance to certain questions from the deepest part of the heart, to forget about them. These can be co-workers, ambiguous business partners, and even friends who, out of superficiality, smile at the torments of the soul and object that they are preoccupations of weak people, that they are not up to the times, that they are medieval. Bartimaeus shows how to overcome these moments of difficulty; we must not be discouraged; we must continue seeking and invoking the light. 

The second difficulty to consider concerns those who surround Jesus, who should help the blind man approach Christ; instead, they also become an impediment. Today, we meet the Master through the community of disciples, but sometimes their lives obscure the brightness of the proposal of man made by Jesus. We follow the light of Christ in his Gospel, but even this Gospel can be veiled by those who proclaim it, disfigured and adapted to our human reasoning. These difficulties in finding the light must be considered. 

At this point, we would expect that after the blind man’s cry, Jesus would immediately come to give him sight. We have seen that the path is very narrow; therefore, Jesus kept the blind man in his gaze. This is a parable. Someone must accompany the blind man to Jesus. He does not go alone. This detail also carries a message for us. Let’s listen to it: 

Jesus stopped and said, ‘Call him.’ So they called the blind man, saying, ‘Take courage; get up; he is calling you.’ 

The voice of Jesus does not come directly to the blind man; some are in charge of transmitting it. Who are these mediators? They are the authentic disciples of the Master. They are attentive and sensitive to their brothers’ and sisters’ requests for help when they are in difficulty. A true disciple of Christ, for example, is an angel of the Lord who, when an office companion confides his dissatisfaction, worries, and concerns because he realizes he is in a state of disorder in life, stops to listen, welcomes the brother’s heartfelt request for help, and accompanies him to Christ. 

And how do these angels approach the brother or sister in difficulty, and how should they minister to them? They tell us with three verbs. The first is to say: “Take courage.” The disciple of Christ knows that whoever allows his eyes to be opened by the light of the Gospel will face a life choice that is not easy; he will also be called to make a radical change; that is why the first imperative is ‘be courageous, be aware that it will not be easy to follow the light that Jesus gives you.’ 

Second, “Get up”; the Greek verb is ‘egéirein,’ which means to resurrect; life begins for you, completely new, as a resurrected man; a demanding life, but the only one worthy of a person. 

Third verb: “He is calling you.” He calls you specifically; it is not a generic proposal he makes to humanity; he is interested in you; you are precious in his eyes, and it is with you that he wants to establish a relationship of love. So you see how the encounter with the light of Christ depends on these mediators of the Gospel; they approach the brother or sister not with threats but with the Master’s tenderness. And now the blind man moves to receive Christ’s light. Let us pay attention to every gesture he makes, because the evangelist Mark notices them, as each contains a message for us. Let us listen: 

He threw aside his cloak, sprang up, and came to Jesus. Jesus replied, ‘What do you want me to do for you?’ The blind man replied, ‘Master, I want to see.’ Jesus told him, ‘Go your way; your faith has saved you.’ Immediately, he regained his sight and followed him. 

We would have expected a different scene from Mark. He should have told us that someone approached Bartimaeus, helped him to his feet, put his cloak on his shoulders, took care of the few coins he had in his cloak, and then took him by the arm and led him to Jesus. On the contrary, Mark tells us that the blind man jumped to his feet, threw off the cloak with all its contents, and then ran to Jesus. 

As a chronicle, this scene is not very plausible, and it is not a chronicle; it is a symbolic scene. First of all, the mantle. Like all beggars, Bartimaeus had it on his knees to receive alms; the gesture of throwing it all away indicates complete and radical detachment from the condition in which he had lived. The life he has led up to that moment is no longer of interest to him; he throws it away. 

This gesture recalls the practice of the catechumens in the communities of Mark’s time, who, before being immersed in the baptismal font, the source of illumination as it was called, discarded their old clothes, signifying their rejection of the pagan life they had led up to that time. In the culture of the time, clothing indicated a person’s behavior, just as we recognize a person by the way they dress; we also recognize them by their actions. Here, that corrupt life, which he had led up to the time of baptism, was cast out; therefore, all behavior that was incompatible with the choices of those enlightened by Christ had to be cast out. Then the baptized was clothed with a new white, luminous garment that indicated that from then on, his person had to radiate the luminous life of Jesus of Nazareth. 

Then Jesus asked the blind man, “What do you want from me?” It may seem a useless question, but it is vital; we should hear this question addressed to us. Last Sunday, we heard it addressed to the two sons of Zebedee. Jesus asked them: “What do you want me to do for you?’ It means, what do you expect from me? It is also a question addressed to us: what do we expect from Jesus of Nazareth? The two sons of Zebedee had said to him: ‘From you, we expect honor, positions of prestige, success in this world, money, glory.’ And Jesus had said to them, ‘You do not know what you ask; I never promised these things.’ The blind man makes the proper request; he asks for what Jesus wants to give: his light so that he may see clearly where he is going in your life. Bartimaeus asks: ‘Rabboni, that I may see.’ 

The Greek verb is ‘anáblepo,’ which means ‘I want to look up.’ Until now, I have always looked down at the alms given to me; now I want to look up. And Jesus said to him, “Go, your faith has saved you.” The fact that you have believed that the gift I can give you is my light saves you; I give you this light, and you will see the world, your life, and all reality as God sees them, because now you will know where you are going, how to move without going astray, without being seduced by the ways of death. 

We have all had the experience of standing before a landscape, sometimes shrouded in fog, other times on a splendid day. Things are the same, but they are seen differently when there is light than when there is not. This is what happens to those who have received the light of Christ: the world, life, things, and reality are the same, but they are seen differently. Life, pain, joys, death, feasts, and mourning are the same, but when you have the light of Christ, you see them differently, you understand their meaning, and you learn to love each reality. 

“Go; your faith has saved you. Instantly, he regained his sight.” Again, the Greek verb: he looked up. Now he has received the light that only God can give. “And he followed him, by the way.” Now he follows Jesus along the path he traces with his life, the way of a surrendered life, not the way of those who seek the honors and glories of this world, as the two sons of Zebedee asked. He who asks Christ the right question receives what he wants to give us: the light to live as he has lived. 

I wish you all a good Sunday and a good week.