Consider the Bartimaeus of Gaza
Vocabulary.com describes war as “an active struggle between competing entities.”
So let’s make one thing clear, what we see in Gaza today is NOT a war. There are NO competing entities, only lopsided adversaries. From a Hamas perspective, we see Gazans suffering as a necessary consequence of collateral damage and from an Israel perspective we find Gazans suffering as victims of collective punishment. There is no war, only suffering. The are no victories, only victims.
The statistics are staggering: In two weeks of conflict more than 5,000 people in Gaza have been killed, more than 2,000 of them being children. 15,000 have been injured and nearly 1,5 million (75% of the population) people displaced without water, electricity, fuel, or food – and this is only on day 15 of the conflict
To place this in the context of the percentage of a nation, if this was the USA more than 800,000 people would have been killed and 250 million displaced.
It’s one thing if your convictions lead you to STAND with Israel, but maybe it’s time to STOP with Jesus in Gaza
Consider the Bartimaeus of Gaza
An encounter in Scripture that so vividly paints the picture of a “seeking-to-redeem” Christ is the story of Bartimaeus in Mark 10:46: the blind, unclean, begging son of a blind, unclean, begging father.
“As Jesus and His disciples, together with a large crowd, were leaving the city, a blind man, Bartimaeus (that is, the son of Timaeus), was sitting by the roadside begging. When he heard that it was Jesus of Nazareth, he began to shout, ‘Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!’
Place yourself in the crowd for a moment. Your focus is Jesus. You’ve gone to a lot of trouble to be there and the last thing you want now is a distraction. Then suddenly this inappropriate shouting interrupts your thoughts. ‘Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!’
This really irritates you and like the rest of the crowd you start rebuking him and tell him to be quiet: “For God’s sake friend, keep quiet. We are busy with the Lord’s business here. You are making a nuisance of yourself,” you shout back. You feel proud of yourself for preserving the sanctity of the moment and that you took the courage to address this unbecoming behaviour.
(In a sense, reading posts on social media regarding the conflict in Gaza, I often sense the same spirit. People feel proud in aligning with groups at the expense of the other. The cries of the Gazan Bartimaeus’ get lost in the sanctimonious noise of religious prejudice)
But he (they) just keeps on shouting, ‘Son of David, have mercy on me!’
Jesus stopped and said, ‘Call him.’ So, they 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. ‘What do you want me to do for you?’ Jesus asked him. The blind man said, ‘Rabbi, I want to see.’ ‘Go,’ said Jesus, ‘your faith has healed you.’ Immediately he received his sight and followed Jesus along the road.”
The tragedy in this story is not found in a man who could not see but in a crowd who could not hear. The tragedy in Gaza today is not only found in a nation that is being destroyed but Christians who refuse to listen to the cries of those who seem unredeemable. It was not about the blindness of a beggar but the deafness of the followers. Their selfish obsession with Jesus (or Israel in the scenario today) became an obstacle. They were so enthralled with their master that the unclean beggars along the roadside became an irritation.
And you and I are in the crowds today.
The beauty in the story is not about Jesus who healed, but Jesus who stopped. He stopped for the unclean while his followers rebuked him.
Sometimes we are so self-righteous in our pursuit of truth that we neglect to seek, stop, and save as our Master does. We are quick to rebuke people, especially those who stand out as the enemies of our alliances, but seldom listen to their cries for redemption. The encounter in Mark 10 is a story of someone who needed help and cried out in anguish to the followers of Christ, only to be rebuked, reprimanded, and ignored.
It is a stark reminder of how the physically blind sometimes expose the spiritually blind. The picture painted in Mark 10 is a sad one. And in all honesty, if we have to paint a picture of the world today, it would probably not be much different:
The one thing that the religious and the devout tried to avoid on this solemn occasion was someone to make a scene. Someone who would draw their attention away from their sacred enjoyment and their religious duty. Someone like Bartimaeus—an inconvenient distraction on the journey with Christ. Someone like refugees, disturbing our peace and security, someone like the homeless rummaging through our garbage, someone like the hungry who always knocks on the door while we are busy eating.
If we truly pursue a consecrated life in the 21st century it might do us well to replace the words “a blind man, Bartimaeus” with the following:
- “As Jesus and His disciples, together with a large crowd, were leaving the city, the parents of 2,000 children who were killed, were sitting by the roadside weeping. When they heard that it was Jesus, they began to shout, ‘Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on us!’
- “As Jesus and His disciples, together with a large crowd, were leaving the city, 1,5 million displaced Gazans were sitting by the roadside begging. When they heard that it was Jesus, they began to shout, ‘Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on us!’
- “As Jesus and His disciples, together with a large crowd, were leaving the city, 15,000 injured Gazans were sitting by the roadside bleeding. When they heard that it was Jesus, they began to shout, ‘Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on us!’
How do the consecrated respond? Not like the crowds, the disciples, the rebukers, nor the followers of Jesus.
One of the major obstacles in modern missions is the fact that we so often proclaim Christianity—another religion—instead of declaring redemption. The early church never burdened people with religion, they proclaimed redemption. So often the testimonies that saturate our social media platforms are about Muslims who became Christians through visions and dreams. The miracles of these stories are not that they became Christians, but the fact that our Redeemer did exactly what He set out to do—He sought them, and He saved them.
As Christians, this is our mandate—PROCLAIMING THE GOOD NEWS TO THE POOR. Nothing more, nothing less. Only redemption will bear eternal fruit. The first consecration of every believer is the lasting one.
From the book: Consecrated – Set Apart for Kingdom Purposes