Be Careful What You Ask For
I grew up on the family dairy farm with my extended family. My grandparents, 2 uncles, 3 cousins, a hired man, and the 5 of us all lived in a huge farmhouse. So I was blessed with constant interaction with a large family.
This reading about Bartimaeus in the Gospel reminded me of my grandmother. She was a practical, hard-working farm wife. We called her Nanny. Nanny provided the homemade bread slathered with hand-churned butter and dipped in sugar when we got home from school. She also offered quips and unbidden words of wisdom. Her favorite was, “Be careful what you ask for. You may get it.”
In the Gospel today, Bartimaeus is sitting by a roadside begging. He is blind. When Bartimaeus hears that Jesus, the great healer, is passing, he shouts out to get his attention. Even though those around him were trying to shush him, he called all the louder. Finally, Jesus came to Bartimaeus and asked him, “What do you want me to do for you?”
My grandmother’s wisdom and Jesus’ question blended into one. I hear Jesus asking in one ear, “What do you want me to do for you?” and Nanny’s caution in the other, “Be careful what you ask for. You may get it.” As I have reflected on this reading, Jesus’ question and my grandmother’s caution coalesced. In several places in the Gospel, Jesus tells us to ask for what we want, for what we need. Bartimaeus could have sat as Jesus passed, quiet and content in his blindness. But he didn’t. Bartimaeus wanted more. He called out, begging Jesus to give him what he didn’t have, his sight.
If we want to see only a superficial meaning. This was just another among the many healings of Jesus. Jesus’ question, however, makes it more than that. What do you want? I want to see. Bartimaeus regains his sight. He is then responsible for interacting with the world in a new way. No more begging beside the road to make a living. He has a whole new set of responsibilities that come with the gift of sight.
Jesus is asking us the same question. “What do you want me to do for you?” We might be tempted to answer quickly and without much thought. “I want more wealth.” “I want a comfortable life.” I want good health.” “I want healing in this broken relationship.” “I want to be loved.” “I want …” We can all fill in the blank with one or more things we want.
Here comes the caution. Be careful what you ask for. You may get it. Just like Bartimaeus was responsible for his gift of sight. We will need to be accountable for the blessings we ask for. If I ask for wealth, I am responsible for using it wisely and for the betterment of others, not just myself. If I ask for health, that is not just to play pickle-ball and get around quickly. It requires that I use my health to assist others who struggle. Suppose I ask for love, patience, or forgiveness. I am responsible for loving even those who seem unlovable, patient with those who fry my last nerve, and forgiving when I want to turn away or lash out in anger, resentment, or hurt. Every gift comes with a responsibility. Every gift has a price. If I want to see, I cannot allow myself to see only rainbows and beautiful sunsets. I need to see those who suffer and the ugliness that sometimes surrounds us. Seeing them as calls for action.
No gift is given for the good only of the receiver. The blessings we are given by God are provided for the betterment of all His people. Our God is gracious and extravagantly generous. He gives freely. When we receive, we must do so with open hands and open hearts, accepting the responsibility to use God’s gifts for the good of all. We are called to respond with the same graciousness and extravagant generosity as the Giver of all gifts.
Be careful what you ask for. We must be ready to receive it. Be prepared to share it. Be open to being responsible for God’s gifts.
In God’s Unending Love,
Gwen
