WITH OPEN EYES
T[/]he Gospel passage of this Sunday presents a sort of itinerary of faith. We can ask ourselves: “Where does faith begin?” Looking at Bartimaeus we can say that faith is born from a desire for salvation-healing. Bartimaeus, because of his blindness, was a marginalized, impoverished and humiliated man. For him, being able to regain his sight meant redeeming himself. But how? He senses that Jesus is passing by on his path and therefore, perceiving that it is the opportunity of his life, he begins to shout and invoke his name. He had probably heard of this rabbi, of what he did for the least fortunate. The desire for salvation-healing is then followed by insistent prayer. How should we understand it? Not only as an imploration but also as a determination to want to be saved-healed. And Jesus responds. Here Bartimaeus makes a significant gesture: he leaves his cloak and runs to the Master. This makes us understand that at the voice of Jesus he is able to abandon what until that day had constituted his wealth and his security. Jesus then questions him and his question is not rhetorical but pedagogical. In a word, Jesus verifies Bartimaeus’ will. What is he really looking for? What dwells in his heart? We have said, he wants to see. The Greek term used here by Mark is anablèps which means “to raise one’s gaze”. Bartimaeus not only wants to regain his sight but above all he yearns to raise his gaze. To where? Towards heaven. In a word: towards God, of whom the sky is a symbol. This is faith, the faith that allows us to follow Jesus with open eyes, that is, in awareness. And this is needed because the Master must be accompanied along his passion-resurrection, that is, recognizing in his death the beginning of a new life; in his darkness, the light of the day without sunset; on Good Friday, the dawn of eternal Easter.
