He’s big. He’s green. He’s a spokesman for the string bean.

You know who I’m talking about: The Jolly Green Giant.

He had been in retirement since the year 2000, but now he’s back. Last November, workers in New York City’s Times Square erected a new billboard of the big bean-seller.

“Ho, ho, ho, Green Giant!”

Now you can laugh with the Giant, but you’d be wrong to laugh at him. The Great Green One has moved an incredible amount of vegetables over the years. According to Advertising Age magazine, he was one of the top ad personalities of the 20th century, behind only the Marlboro Man and Ronald McDonald.

But the Jolly Green Giant is not the only old school advertising icon to return to the spotlight. The King is back as well!

No, not Elvis.

I’m talking about Burger King! You’ve probably seen him inserted into NFL football games, by the magic of digital technology. Back in the 1970s, he was a low-key hamburger pusher, a runner-up to Ronald McDonald. But today he is strutting across the screen with a monstrous plastic head, burgundy robes, and dazzling crown. Burger King has got the bling!

So, what’s the deal with all this backward-looking advertising? Why are ad agencies now trying to push products through nostalgia? Daniel Gross of US Airways Magazine (February 2006) believes that people like the warm, fuzzy feelings that are created by old-timers such as the Jolly Green Giant and Burger King. Such emotions are a natural incentive to purchase comfort-food products.

There’s a multigenerational angle at work as well — a colorful, football-carrying Burger King can appeal to kids, while also evoking the nostalgia of their parents. When the King appears, you get two connections for the price of one.

These kinds of deeply-rooted emotional links make you wonder what Bartimaeus was feeling when he heard that Jesus was traveling along the road from Jericho to Jerusalem. The Gospel of Mark tells us that Bartimaeus, a blind beggar, is sitting by the roadside when he gets word that Jesus is approaching, and this news causes him to cry out, “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!” (10:46-47).

Jesus. Son of David. This is the first time that we hear this kind of language in Mark. For Bartimaeus to call Jesus “Son of David” is to announce that Jesus is the anointed king, the heir to the throne of the great King David. It’s a statement of faith and conviction and confidence … and it is charged with political power as well. After all, the Roman governor and his legions don’t want their control of Jerusalem to be challenged by some upstart Jewish king.

At the same time, the term “Son of David” is a backward-looking phrase that evokes nostalgia and warm feelings among the Jews of this region. They remember the promise of Psalm 18 — God gives “great triumphs” to his king, “to David and his descendents forever” (v. 50). They look forward to seeing their king march into Jerusalem, with crowds of supporters shouting, “Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord” (Psalm 118:26). And they recall the prediction of the prophet Zechariah, “Lo, your king comes to you; triumphant and victorious is he, humble and riding on a donkey” (9:9).

There’s a lot of passion for this Son of David. Much more than anyone is ever going to feel for the Burger King.

Notice that in this passage from Mark, it is a sightless man who sees Jesus clearly. Only Blind Bartimaeus correctly identifies Jesus as the long-awaited Son of David. The crowd is annoyed by his shouting, and they sternly order him to be quiet (v. 48). I think it may be that they are bothered by his brashness, feeling that blind beggars ought to be seen and not heard. From their perspective, he is like a homeless person blocking the sidewalk, shaking a cup and asking for spare change. Or maybe they are made nervous by what he is saying, fearing that the long arm of the Roman military will bring the hammer down on anyone associated with a Jewish king.

In any case, Bartimaeus will not be silenced. He cries out even more loudly, “Son of David, have mercy on me!” (v. 48). His faith in Jesus will not be crushed by the criticism of the crowd, or by the fear of what Rome might do to someone speaking in such a politically incorrect way. He shows a level of courage in his convictions that is so rare in first-century Judea, not to mention twenty-first century America. He does not care that the people around him are telling him to shut up. And he is not concerned about the punishment he might receive for speaking openly about his faith. He just does it.

And the result? Jesus stops in his tracks and says, “Call him here” (v. 49).

I get the feeling that the crowd goes silent at this point, surprised that a celebrity like Jesus would respond to the shrieks of a blind man sitting in the dirt. It’s as though a million-megawatt movie star is actually taking the time to talk to some nobody on the other side of the velvet rope. But the crowd passes the word to the blind man, and he responds by throwing off his cloak and springing up to meet Jesus.

Blind Bartimaeus knows that Jesus is the real deal. The true Son of David. A person with authentic mercy and awe-inspiring might — not some feel-good advertising icon like the Jolly Green Giant or Burger King. Bart is so excited that he springs up and comes to Jesus, which is an act of real faithfulness for a man who can’t see where he is going.

“What do you want me to do for you?” asks Jesus when they are standing face to face (v. 51).

That’s an intriguing question, don’t you think? Bartimaeus is a beggar, so he could have asked for a bag of gold. He’s got no status in the community, so he could have asked for the respect of others.. He’s unemployed, so he could have asked for a job. He has made his mistakes in life, so he could have asked for forgiveness. “What do you want me to do for you?” is the question that Jesus puts before him. It’s open-ended. Non-directive. A blank check, just waiting to be filled in.

How would you respond, if you were Blind Bart? How will you respond today, in this service of worship? Jesus asks us — right here, right now — the very same question that he asked the blind man by the road. “What do you want me to do for you?”

Bartimaeus says, “My teacher, let me see again” (v. 51). It’s a simple and straightforward request, but one that is much harder to fulfill than a plea for a job or a bag of gold or even a place of honor in the community. “Let me see again” is what Blind Bart requests, trusting Jesus to be both infinitely powerful and endlessly merciful. He’s not asking Burger King for a Whopper or the Jolly Green Giant for a box of frozen heart-healthy green beans. He is asking his Almighty King to remove his blindness and give him the gift of sight.

“Go,” says Jesus; “your faith has made you well.” Immediately Bartimaeus regains his sight, and follows Jesus on the way (v. 52). Unlike the rich man who would not follow Jesus (v. 22), Bartimaeus falls in behind his master. And unlike the disciples who shook with fear (v. 32), Bartimaeus shows nothing but spontaneous enthusiasm. In all likelihood, he becomes one of the cheering crowd that surrounds Jesus as he enters Jerusalem, saying, “Hosanna! … Blessed is the coming kingdom of our ancestor David!” (11:9-10).

Bartimaeus, you see, is no mere consumer of religion. He’s doesn’t look for Jesus simply to give him the gift of sight, and leave him with a warm, fuzzy feeling. If he did, he’d be no better than a follower of Burger King, hungry for a flame-broiled burger, or a fan of the Jolly Green Giant, looking for a tasty new vegetable medley. No, Bartimaeus wants to be given sight so that he can see exactly where Jesus is going. He wants to get out of his dusty rut and hit the road with the Son of David.

Are we half this enthusiastic about following Jesus on the way? I sometimes wonder if I would leave everything and follow if Jesus passed through Fairfax on his way to Jerusalem. Sure, I’d like to be healed — I’ve got spiritual blindness that I’d like to have removed. I’d like to be able to see God more clearly. But would I be willing to leave my life here and follow? Or would I just stay behind, thankful for the gift of sight?

It’s a good question. What do you think you would do? Are you willing to hit the road with Jesus? Are you willing to go where Jesus wants to go, instead of where you want to go?

Jesus, like goofy old Burger King, is a leader who has stood the test of time. But that is where the resemblance ends. Jesus is tried and true, a mighty and merciful healer who restored the sight of Bartimaeus and can clear us of cloudy vision as well. He invites us to walk in the way of discipleship, a path of service and spiritual growth that has appealed to countless generations. We can have enthusiastic faith in Jesus, as Bartimaeus did, and receive the same sort of healing. We can embrace Jesus as our powerful Messiah King, and follow him with courage and confidence, knowing that he is a most trustworthy brand of Savior.

The King is back! He may come from the past, but he leads us only forward. Amen.


Sources:
Gross, Daniel. “Take from the past, ad to the future.” US Airways Magazine, February 2006, 25-26.