In today's Gospel, we hear the story of a man who was able to see what other people could not see. St. Mark described how this event occurred AFTER the disciples had failed, for the 3rd time, to understand the prophecy of Jesus that he would suffer and die. St. Mark intended for us to take Bartimaus as an example of a spiritually mature person, who is able to see beyond present circumstances.

As is often the case, we are told nothing of Bartimaus' history: how long he had been blind, how old he was, whether he lived alone or with family. What we do know is that Bartimaus wanted to be healed, and that he evidently had heard of the healing power of Jesus. We may guess that his life was severely restricted, and further that he had tried all the remedies available at the time: prayers, sacrifices, miracle-workers, magic. It seemed that the future held no possibility for change . . . until Bartimaus heard about Jesus, who had healed that nameless blind man of Mark 8:22.

I think Bartimaus was a man who took the risk of hoping for a cure, even as he recognized how unlikely a cure would be. He trusted that something other than blind fate was at work in the world. He thought that God might do something new. Because of these qualities, Bartimaus had a degree of spiritual awareness far beyond the ordinary. If he had listened to the teaching of Jesus at all, it would only have been that same day, and he would not had been present at any of the miracles of Jesus. Yet when Jesus drew near to the place where he sat by the road in Jericho, Bartimaus somehow recognized that Messiah had come. Others had spoken of Jesus as Teacher, healer, prophet, holy man, Rabbi, but it was Blind Bartimaus who cried out, "Son of David, have mercy on me!"

Jesus heard that cry from the heart: he heard both its urgency and also its openness. For his response to Bartimaus was quite different from his response to the nameless blind man. Jesus did not touch Bartimaus, or put a paste on his eyes, or even pray for him. What is most unusual, Jesus did not assume he knew what this disabled person wanted: he treated him with dignity by asking, "what do you want me to do for you?" Well Bartimaus did want to be healed: "Teacher" he said, "let me see again." In that request, made with faith and hope, Bartinaus committed himself to Jesus. "Go, your faith has made you well" Jesus said. Bartinaus regained his sight, but he did not go. He followed Jesus "along the way". And that is why we know Bartimaus: name: because he followed Jesus in the way of life Jesus was teaching. Perhpas Bartimaus was able to give the blessing of hope and faith to that small group of disciples, when they were surprised by the arrest of Jesus.

Although we live almost 2000 years after Bartimaus, we share the commitment he had to follow in the way of Jesus. In many respects, it is much eaasier for us to follow Jesus, than it was for Bartimaus and the disciples. After all, they left their homes and families, their means of livelihood, and such comforts of life as were possible in ancient Galilee. We don't know whether the disciples had a change of clothes or an opportunity to bathe; we don't know how often they slept outdoors, or if they often went hungry.

Very early on, the followers of Jesus recognized that "the way" Jesus taught was not about walking away from home and family. The way He taught is about how we may love God, love our neighbors, and love ourselves, in our homes and families, in our cities and our world. Last week I described how the early Christian community decided the way of Jesus was open to people of all races and cultures. This momentous decision has meant that the way of Jesus can be "translated" faithfully into the lives and circumstances of Ethiopians, Celts, Romans, Saxons, Franks, Slavs, Armenians, Indians, Chinese, Mayans, south Africans, native Americans, and even the residents of Silicon Valley. It can be lived not only in the first and second centuries, but in the 12th, and 16th, and 21st centuries. The challenge, for each new group and each new generation, is how to follow Jesus in this place, in this time, and in these circumstances.

So here we are in Sunnyvale in 2006, joining together to love God in our worship, trying as individuals and as a church to love our neighbors, and perhaps struggling to love ourselves. Recently we have been discussing all kinds of spiritual practices that will help us stay on the way of Jesus: from keeping the Sabbath to prayer to remembering the saints. These are practices which strengthen our ability to love God, and to love our neighbors. Together as a church we try to care for our hungry neighbors by providing hot meals; we try to care for our homeless neighbors by hosting the Rotating Shelter; and we try to care for our neighbors who are ill or in crisis through our intercessory prayers and our healing ministry. In a survey of the parish in 2005, many people thought we should try to reach out in some way to the children of Sunnyvale, and we are in the process of discerning how to do that.

All of this happens because many people give their time and energy, their expertise, and their money to make it possible. A few minutes ago, Jon Aderhold gave you a wonderful outline of the spiritual basis for our giving. I want to build on what he said, with 2 points. The first is a paradox. When we give God our first fruits, God gives back to us an abundance of blessings. It sounds like a simple exchange: we give to God and God gives to us, but it is not. Underneath the apparent simplicity, is Jesus' awareness of how tempting it is for us to put our faith in our possessions and our money. In so many of his parables, and sayings, Jesus challenges us to recognize that money cannot save us. In the story we heard two weeks ago, of the rich young man who wanted to inherit eternal life, Jesus looked into that man's heart, and saw that he trusted his wealth first, and God second. That is the reason Jesus told him to sell all that he had. Only when that rich man had nothing, would he be able to trust God first.

Probably the fact that we are in church at all, means that we are not that far off-base. By giving a portion of our income (our first fruits) to God for the church, we are saying to ourselves, I trust God first. I trust that I will have what I need to live; I trust God to help me discern what I really need, and I trust that God will send me blessings I could never have imagined. So there is a risk here, a joyful risk, of saying with our actions, YES, God is at work in my life, and I am cooperating with God to accomplish His purposes. I am a steward of the life, of the people, of the resources and the opportunities God has given me, and I will take good care of God's gifts.

The second point I want to make is from St. Paul, who travelled around the Roman empire preaching and establishing churches. He assumed that people are able to give because of God's grace, and at the same time he insisted that giving must be voluntary. What interests me is that St. Paul sees giving to the church as one of the ways people witness to the Gospel. When we follow Jesus, we are both going where he goes, and we are also bearing witness to God's love which is stronger than death. So all of our gifts, of time, of creativity, of work and of money, are offerings which witness to the glory to God (2 Cor 9:13).

Because the decision we must each make, of what our pledge will be for 2007, is such an important spiritual matter for us as individuals and as a parish, the Worship committee and the Stewardship committee have decided to hold a Vigil for the Church. The word vigil comes from the same root as vigilance, and means a time of looking for GodŐs guidance. Our principle purpose on Friday evening will be to pray for that guidance in deciding on our pledges. We will also pray for God's guidance for our new Presiding Bishop, and for God's guidance for our own diocese as we start off in a new direction. In all three matters, we hope to imitate Bartimaus, whose faith and hope extended far beyond what he could see.