5 Epiphany 2015

5 Epiphany 2015

Our Gospel reading today finds Jesus going to Simon Peter’s house after having a bit of adventure in the local synagogue. Some of you might remember in last week’s reading that Jesus was teaching in the synagogue, and the people were amazed at the authority with which he taught. And no sooner do the people say this than some possessed guy jumps up and starts getting belligerent with Jesus. 

However, without missing a beat, Jesus tells the spirit to shut up, and casts it out of the guy—which only further proves his authority.

As I explained last week, the authority of Jesus is one of the themes of the Gospel of Mark. So, we see throughout the narrative these places in which Jesus has command not only in his teaching, but also in signs and wonders. Some scholars are quick to point out that his authority and power are held up in Mark’s Gospel to show that Jesus isn’t just some really impressive magician, or pagan ‘holy man.’ Instead, just as the beginning of Mark says, he’s the Son of God, and one of the ways that Jesus proves his son-ship is by reminding everyone that his power comes from God. And, as we see in Jesus’ example, authority is something that is vested in someone—and isn’t something that is taken by force. That’s often the kind of power that gets abused.

Anyway, today’s reading follows directly after last week’s, and we find Jesus and his disciples going to Capernaum, to Simon Peter’s house. We read that when they arrive, they find that Peter’s mother-in-law was sick in bed (insert mother-in-law joke here). Anyway, Jesus goes and heals her, and she gets up and makes everyone a nice cup of tea…or whatever.

Of course, it’s not long before everyone hears that Jesus is in town—and because he’s cheaper than their HMOs, the people start flocking in droves to be healed. And whether it’s because there were so many people that Peter’s wife couldn’t get the car out of the garage to make her nail appointment; or because Jesus finally put up the “Office Closed” sign—the people leave for the night.

Before anyone stirs, and even before the sun is up; Jesus goes to a deserted place to pray. Either he’s trying to get his focus together for another day of healing, or it’s something more… But the reading ends with Peter and the disciples finding him. It even says they “hunted him…” When they find Jesus, they ask him what he’s doing—“everyone is searching for [him].”

It’s almost like Jesus has suddenly become either a reclusive child, or disappointing side-show. Whatever the case, it’s obvious that who he is (with all of his authority and power), and what his mission was (repentance and the promise of God’s Kingdom) had become completely obscured by what Jesus could do for them at that moment…

But, completely nonplussed, Jesus gets up and tells the disciples that it’s time to leave so that he can proclaim the message, because that is what he came to do. And they leave. We’re told Jesus preaches, and even continues to heal people and cast out demons.

I suppose, by this time, we’re all sort of used to Jesus doing weird things that we don’t fully understand. After all, he’s tall dark and messianic—he has to be mysterious. But, that doesn’t help us to understand why he would suddenly ‘stop’ healing people who might really have needed it to instead go and proclaim the Kingdom elsewhere…that’s a tough thing to consider.

Yet, at the same time, if we are willing to struggle with it; what I think we eventually come to is the greater context of the story. It says that the whole city was gathered at the door. These people didn’t even leave until sometime in the night, and the next morning when Jesus is away praying, even his disciples seem offended that he wasn’t up and ready for another day of miracles in Capernaum. In fact, it even says they “hunted him,” which just feels wrong.

Really, it’s only then that Jesus tells them that they need to move along, because, it’s obvious that if he remains in town, he will simply be some obscure faith healer. And, let’s be honest, with the way things were going for him that first day, he could probably spend years there just healing every person who came along…which, would actually be a good thing.

However, this wasn’t what Jesus was sent to do…as good as healing the people in Capernaum was, his mission was bigger, and for him to remain faithful, he needed to leave and continue onward.

Now, there is part of me that believes that this was a hard decision for him to make. I do believe that he had compassion for every one of these people—and it’s probably all the more reason he needed to pray to get the clarity and release he needed to go and continue his ministry. After all, he was vested with the power and authority that God had given him; and as is always the case with the authority any of us is given, we have to be humble and obedient—even if it means making difficult choices.

For most of us, the point of this may not be as easy to apply to our individual lives. But, then, some of us may know what it’s like to have to choose between staying home with children or going to work; it may be deciding to leave a secure job to pursue your passion or true vocation in life…who knows? But I do know that it applies very easily to the Church, and the continual need for congregations to pray about, and discern what mission and ministry God is calling them to in the world.

The irony, perhaps, is that when we do this work of prayerful discernment, it may call us to discontinue one ministry in favor of beginning a new one.

Yesterday I attended a meeting for Mission congregations, and one of the things that they talked about was this idea that most church programs have a three-year life-cycle. In fact, if a program has continued beyond three-years without any conversation about adjusting it or changing it; they pointed out that it can either become a source of anxiety, or even toxicity for the congregation.

And while we may agree or disagree with the research, what we do have to admit is that whether it’s three-years, more or less, there is most certainly a life-cycle for programs. So, it seems only natural that we would want to have honest conversations about them so that we can be sure that we’re being good stewards of our resources—both human and otherwise. The difficulty, however, is that there is sometimes too much personal and emotional DNA enmeshed with certain things, and so instead of discussing program offerings, or events objectively; we find ourselves in pitched, emotional battles that can’t be resolved cleanly.

But the question then remains, if we give in, even to emotionally charged and enmeshed personalities about things, simply to keep a few people happy…Can we say that we’re still being faithful to what God may be calling us to?

In the same way, should we ignore our responsibility to ask and listen for God’s leading, simply because we might feel settled and comfortable in what we may be doing now—regardless of how important it may seem?

Personally I don’t think we can. I don’t believe that we’re being faithful to God if we’re not willing to have the strength to pick-up, and move forward, because we know full well what our call in this world is… And it doesn’t matter if you feel like you’ve done your time; it doesn’t matter if you feel like you’re too busy; it doesn’t matter if you think that faith is just a weekly obligation to fulfill… Because as we found out today, it doesn’t even matter if your name is Jesus Christ, and you’ve been sitting outside Simon Peter’s house healing everybody all throughout Capernaum. The fact is, the message, the Gospel, the hope of the Kingdom of God, and God’s forgiveness and love for us is bigger and more important than any one of us. So, if that’s real to you, and it’s here (in your heart), I can tell you it’s never too soon to start praying and discerning—because everyone of us has a message to proclaim.

By the way, if you forgot what that is, it’s that God loves you; Jesus saved you; and that justifies you. Very simple. But it’s up to each one of us to figure out what that means to us, and how each of us are called to share it in our individual ways.