Desperate Faith and the Attentive King Text: Luke 18:35-43
Introduction: The Scandal of Needy Faith
We live in an age that prizes dignity, self-sufficiency, and decorum. Our modern sensibilities, both inside and outside the church, are often offended by raw, unfiltered desperation. We like our testimonies neat and tidy, our prayers polite and well-ordered, and our faith expressed in a way that doesn't make anyone uncomfortable. We want a manageable God who responds to reasonable requests, not a king who is interrupted by the shouts of a beggar on the side of the road. We are, in many ways, just like the crowd in this story: we want to keep things moving along in an orderly fashion, and we are quick to rebuke the one who makes a scene.
But the kingdom of God does not advance through polite requests from the spiritually self-sufficient. It breaks into the world through the desperate cries of the helpless. The gospel is not for those who have it all together; it is for beggars. It is for the blind, the lame, the broken, and the dead. The story of Bartimaeus is a profound disruption of our tidy religious categories. It is a story about a man who had nothing to lose and everything to gain, a man whose faith was loud, persistent, and utterly shameless.
This account is not just a historical record of a remarkable healing. It is a living parable of true conversion. It teaches us what it means to be spiritually blind, how a sinner must cry out for mercy, who Jesus truly is, and what the inevitable result of a genuine encounter with Christ looks like. This is the pattern of salvation. We are all Bartimaeus, sitting in darkness by the side of the road, and our only hope is that the King is passing by. The central question this text forces upon us is this: when Jesus passes by, will we be like the crowd, trying to hush up the unpleasant business of salvation, or will we be like Bartimaeus, crying out all the more loudly?
The Text
Now it happened that as Jesus was approaching Jericho, a blind man was sitting by the road begging. Now hearing a crowd going by, he began to inquire what this was. They reported to him, "Jesus of Nazareth is passing by." And he called out, saying, "Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!" And those who went ahead were rebuking him so that he would be quiet, but he kept crying out all the more, "Son of David, have mercy on me!" And Jesus stopped and commanded that he be brought to Him, and when he came near, He questioned him, "What do you want Me to do for you?" And he said, "Lord, I want to regain my sight!" And Jesus said to him, "Receive your sight; your faith has saved you." Immediately he regained his sight and began following Him, glorifying God. And when all the people saw it, they gave praise to God.
(Luke 18:35-43 LSB)
A Blind Beggar's Opportunity (vv. 35-37)
We begin with the setting, which is the essential backdrop for the entire encounter.
"Now it happened that as Jesus was approaching Jericho, a blind man was sitting by the road begging. Now hearing a crowd going by, he began to inquire what this was. They reported to him, 'Jesus of Nazareth is passing by.'" (Luke 18:35-37)
Here is a man defined by two conditions: he is blind, and he is a beggar. This is not just a physical description; it is a perfect picture of fallen humanity. Spiritually, every man outside of Christ is blind. He cannot see the truth, he cannot perceive the glory of God, and he is lost in darkness. As Paul says, the god of this world has blinded the minds of the unbelievers (2 Cor. 4:4). And because he is blind, he is a beggar. He is utterly dependent, with nothing to offer, capable only of receiving what is given to him. He sits by the road, which is to say, he is outside the normal flow of life, an outcast from the productive economy of the world.
But on this day, something different happens. He hears a crowd. The commotion signals that the status quo is being disrupted. This is a crucial point. Salvation rarely comes to those who are comfortable in their darkness. It comes when God sends a disruption, a commotion that makes the blind man ask, "What is happening?" He doesn't know what it is, but he knows it's something. And the report comes back: "Jesus of Nazareth is passing by." This is the pre-gospel announcement. This is the moment of opportunity. The King is in the vicinity. Grace is within earshot. For this blind beggar, this is not just a news report; it is the possibility of everything changing.
The Cry of Faith (vv. 38-39)
The beggar's response to this news is immediate and instructive.
"And he called out, saying, 'Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!' And those who went ahead were rebuking him so that he would be quiet, but he kept crying out all the more, 'Son of David, have mercy on me!'" (Luke 18:38-39 LSB)
Notice what he cries. He does not just say "Jesus of Nazareth." He cries out, "Jesus, Son of David!" This is a confession of faith. "Son of David" is not a casual title; it is a loaded, messianic claim. It is an acknowledgment that Jesus is the promised King, the heir to David's throne, the one who comes to restore the fortunes of Israel. This blind man, who cannot see the Nazarene with his physical eyes, sees his true identity more clearly than the crowd with their functioning retinas. This is spiritual sight preceding physical sight.
And what is his request? "Have mercy on me!" This is the fundamental prayer of a sinner. He does not demand justice. He does not present his resume. He does not argue his own merits. He knows he has none. He casts himself entirely on the unmerited favor, the sheer mercy, of the King. This is the essence of saving faith: knowing who Jesus is and knowing what you need from Him.
But then comes the opposition. "Those who went ahead were rebuking him." This is the voice of the world, the flesh, and sometimes, the respectable but spiritually dead church. "Be quiet. Don't make a scene. You're embarrassing us. Jesus is too important for the likes of you. Wait your turn. Fill out the proper forms." The crowd sees Bartimaeus as a nuisance, an interruption to the parade. But Bartimaeus understands that this is not a parade; it is his only chance. And so, he cries out "all the more." True, desperate faith is not deterred by opposition. It is intensified by it. When the world tells a desperate sinner to be quiet, he only gets louder. He knows that the opinion of the crowd is worthless compared to the attention of the King.
The Sovereign Summons (vv. 40-41)
The loud, persistent, and unashamed cry of the beggar does what the respectable crowd could not. It stops the Son of God in His tracks.
"And Jesus stopped and commanded that he be brought to Him, and when he came near, He questioned him, 'What do you want Me to do for you?'" (Luke 18:40-41 LSB)
Jesus stopped. Let that sink in. The Lord of glory, on His way to Jerusalem to purchase the salvation of the world, halts His entire procession for one shouting beggar. This is the nature of our God. He is not a distant deist, but a personal King who attends to the cries of the destitute. The very people who were just rebuking Bartimaeus are now commanded to fetch him. God has a wonderful habit of using our foolish opposition to accomplish His sovereign purposes.
Then Jesus asks a question that seems obvious on the surface: "What do you want Me to do for you?" Jesus knows what the man wants. He knows everything. But He asks the question to elicit a confession. He wants the man to articulate his faith, to state his need, to own his request. This is for the man's benefit, and for the crowd's. God wants us to name our desires before Him, to bring our brokenness into the light and ask Him specifically for what we need. And the man's answer is simple, direct, and beautiful: "Lord, I want to regain my sight!" He addresses Him as "Lord," another confession of His authority, and he states his deepest need. There is no ambiguity. He wants to see.
Salvation and Its Results (vv. 42-43)
The climax of the story is the healing itself, and its immediate, threefold result.
"And Jesus said to him, 'Receive your sight; your faith has saved you.' Immediately he regained his sight and began following Him, glorifying God. And when all the people saw it, they gave praise to God." (Luke 18:42-43 LSB)
Jesus speaks, and it is done. Just as in the beginning, God said, "Let there be light," and there was light, so here the Son says, "Receive your sight," and there is sight. This is a creative act. This is regeneration. Jesus then gives the theological commentary: "your faith has saved you." It is crucial to understand this correctly. The man's faith was not the meritorious cause of his salvation. His faith was not a work that earned him a healing. Rather, his faith was the instrument, the empty hand that received the free gift. His faith saved him in the same way that an empty hand "gets" you a gift placed in it. The faith itself has no power; the power is in the one in whom the faith is placed. It was a faith that drove him to the only one who could save.
The results are instantaneous and transformative. First, "he regained his sight." The problem was solved. The darkness was banished. Second, he "began following Him." This is the mark of true discipleship. He doesn't just say thank you and go back to his old life. His life is now irrevocably tied to the one who healed him. He joins the procession. He becomes a follower. Salvation that does not result in following is no salvation at all. Third, he was "glorifying God." His mouth, which had been filled with cries for mercy, is now filled with praise. This is the chief end of man, and the ultimate purpose of salvation: to glorify God.
And notice the ripple effect. "And when all the people saw it, they gave praise to God." The genuine conversion of one man led to the corporate worship of the many. The very crowd that tried to silence him is now caught up in the chorus of praise. This is how the kingdom works. One man's shameless faith becomes the catalyst for a whole community's worship. God saves individuals, but He saves them for a corporate purpose, that His name might be praised among the people.
Conclusion: The Only Necessary Commotion
The story of Bartimaeus is our story. We are all born blind and begging by the side of the road. We are spiritually destitute, with nothing to offer, sitting in darkness. But the good news is that Jesus of Nazareth is passing by. He is present in the preaching of His word, in the administration of the sacraments, in the fellowship of His people.
The only appropriate response to this news is to cry out. Not with a polite, dignified, carefully modulated request, but with a desperate, shameless, persistent shout: "Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!" Do not let the crowd of your respectable sins, or your self-sufficient pride, or your skeptical neighbors, or even your timid Christian friends tell you to be quiet. They are wrong. The only voice that matters is the voice of the King, and He is inclined to stop for those who know they need Him.
And when He stops for you, when He asks what you want, the answer is simple: "Lord, that I might see." See my sin for what it is. See you for who you are. See the glory of the gospel. And He will answer. He will speak His creative word into your darkness. And when He does, your only response will be to follow Him, glorifying His name. And as you do, you will find that your singular story of salvation has become part of a great chorus of praise, a commotion that the world cannot ignore and that heaven rejoices to hear.