Today I was reading from Mark the story of the blind beggar, Bartimaeus. As he hears Jesus passing by, he yells out, without decorum, “Jesus, have pity on me!” All those around him tell him to knock it off. They hush him. Because he is embarrassing himself, and them. But Bartimaeus continues to shout even louder.
And Jesus stops. He looks right at Bartimaeus and tells his disciples to call him over. And what does Bartimaeus do? He jumps up and runs towards Jesus! Can you imagine? Completely in the dark. Probably bumping up against people, tripping his way through the crowd, maybe even falling and getting back to his feet. He runs!
Jesus sees him. He asks him, what do you want me to do for you?
And Bartimaeus answers, “Master, I want to see!”
“To see” in Scripture carries with it the power of both the literal and metaphorical. Jesus restores sight to the blind. But even more, he allows us to see the way things truly are. The hidden value. The glory that we so often miss. To see it in ourselves, but even more importantly, to see it in others. And especially the least. The overlooked. The discarded.
The first thing Bartimaeus sees is the face of Jesus. I can only imagine the look of affection he must have seen in those eyes. To witness the loving gaze of Jesus, more loving than a parent’s love for their children. It is this gaze that allows us to see the way Jesus sees. To the very heart and glory of each human being. To see everyone as an “unceasing spiritual being with an eternal destiny in God’s great universe”, as Dallas Willard puts it.
This is Jesus. And that is how He sees you.