Epiphany 5B
February 4, 2024
Mark 1:29-39
INTRODUCTION
Jesus’ first impression last week, a dramatic healing of a man possessed by an unclean spirit, set the tone for his ministry, and today we see it continue to play out, as his fame spreads. In today’s reading, Mark offers us “a day in the life of Jesus,” as we watch him go from the synagogue to his friend Simon’s house, where he heals Simon’s mother-in-law. That evening, everyone with any sort of ailment comes to the door, knocking for help. His reputation as one who confronts evil and brings healing is growing. But Mark also feels it important to mention that Jesus takes a rest – he stops and takes a moment for himself to pray, before moving on to keep proclaiming the good news. Good modeling, Jesus!
Isaiah also speaks to the fatigue that comes from, well, from life! Today’s reading brings us back to the time of the exile, actually just as the Israelites are learning that they will be returning to Jerusalem after being in exile for 70 years. The Israelites are understandably worried about the long trip – a 1000-mile journey, on foot! God assures them that, while it will be long and arduous, they will be able to make it, because God will not let them fall. A wonderful promise as we, too, trudge through our own exhaustion.
In both of these stories, and in Paul’s letter to the Corinthians, we will see a theme of God empowering the weak and weary, and that this strengthening is ultimately for a purpose: the next step of healing (in body, mind or spirit) is service. As you listen, consider from what you need healing, and how such healing would equip you for serving God and neighbor. Let’s listen.
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| Christ Healing Peter's Mother-in-Law WikiCommons |
Grace to you and peace from God our Father and our Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.
Jesus is one busy dude. He has just made his splashy entrance into public ministry by very publicly casting out a demon from a man in the synagogue. Word spread fast, and soon enough, just as soon as the sun set up the sabbath day and people were allowed to work again, Mark tells us that “the whole city” gathered at his door, asking for healing. All evening, Jesus heals everything from indigestion to demon possession. Whew! Then, after a busy night he wakes up early to spend some time in prayer – and even there, his disciples hunt him down to report that “everyone” is searching for him. Hardly a moment to himself, just go-go-go, heal-heal-heal.
But tucked in the midst of all this busyness is this short story of great intimacy. Jesus has just called his first disciples, and they go to one of their homes, the home of Simon, later known as Peter. At once, they tell Jesus that Simon’s mother-in-law was sick. I always thought this was with the hope of Jesus healing her, but at this point, Jesus has not actually performed any healings. He has cast out demons, but she doesn’t have a demon. So, I wonder if they were actually letting him know by way of explanation: you see if would be a major faux pax for Simon’s mother-in-law to receive a guest, and not to offer him hospitality. So rather than saying, “She’s sick, Jesus, can you heal her?” it was more, “You can come to our house, but you should know, my mother-in-law is quite ill with a fever. She will not be able to serve us. But please don’t take offense.” You see, in the 1st century, the woman’s place was in the kitchen; indeed, her role in running the household and serving guests was an essential and valued part of how society functioned. For Simon’s mother-in-law, not being able to serve Jesus and his friends was embarrassing and degrading of her very personhood and agency.
So already, this is intimate: we’re in a personal home, and the elder of this home is vulnerable, both physically and socially. We would do well to pause here and appreciate the intimacy of this moment. As a pastor, I am often invited into people’s vulnerability – messy homes, broken relationships, hospital rooms where people are at their very weakest with hair mussed and gowns barely covering their broken bodies – and each one of these moments is immensely sacred, precisely because of that intimacy.
But then in our story, this intimacy goes even deeper. Jesus comes right up to the woman, and takes her hand. I’m not sure I really appreciated how beautiful this moment is until we were unable to touch each other’s hands during the pandemic. I personally had no lack of touch during that time – I was home with a 3- and 4-year-old, after all – but I know for many who live alone, they had no physical contact with another human for months. And yet touch is such an important part of human connection! One of my favorite things to do in pastoral settings, after I have met or visited with someone, is hold their hand for a prayer. Prayer is already a powerful connection, but when you add a hand hold, you can experience one another’s energy and spirit even more profoundly. I have often seen people emerge from such a moment in tears – sometimes the tears are my own!
And so here, where Jesus takes the hand of this ailing, aging woman – it makes me catch my breath a bit! Suddenly, they become connected, in body and spirit. This woman, who was presently without a purpose, being unable to fulfill her duties of care for her home or offering hospitality, is important enough, valuable enough, for Jesus to stop in the middle of his busy day and hold her hand for a moment. She had been disconnected, even close to dying, and now, she is once again connected.
And then, Mark tells us, Jesus raises her up, and the fever leaves her. Worth noting is that this word, “raise up,” is the same word used for Jesus’ own resurrection. Mark is intentional about details like this – we are meant to make the connection to Jesus’ resurrection. Jesus raises her up – from sickness into health, from brokenness into wholeness, from near-death into life, even into new life. By their interpersonal connection, she has been given a new life.
Mark tells us then that “she began to serve them.” I have often heard feminist grumbling about this verse – “sheesh, she was near death, and now already she’s making them sandwiches?” Yes, on first impression this may rub us the wrong way, but this is not at all meant to evoke fist-shaking at the patriarchy. Remember I mentioned before, that in this society, a woman’s place was in the kitchen. She cared for the home and the family. In this role, she was an essential member of society, and she no doubt took pride in her work and her ability to extend hospitality to someone like Jesus. Without that ability, however, she was without purpose, without value. Now, Jesus has not only restored her to health, but has restored her to purpose. She is whole, and able to serve. (The word used here for “serve,” by the way, is the word from which we get the word “deacon,” so this is very much a sort of faithful service she is doing, and not a begrudging fetching of sandwiches for the men in the room.)
This exchange is not unlike how God’ grace works in our own lives. We too are lifted out of our brokenness, forgiven for our sins. We are granted grace upon grace, brought from the death of sin, into new life in Christ, and promised everlasting life. We are healed. And our faithful response to this gift and promise is to serve. Martin Luther writes that we are freed from sin, even as we are freed for service, such that when we truly receive God’s grace and promise, good works spring spontaneously from us, whether that is distributing food at a pantry, learning about an issue like housing justice, praying for the health and wellbeing of your community, or simply treating your neighbor with lovingkindness. We’re freed from sin, and freed for service.
I see this woman, Simon’s mother-in-law, as the very embodiment of this concept. Freed from the captivity of disease, she is freed for service of those gathered. She is given a purpose once again, and with it, she becomes whole. She is connected to Christ, and to her community, now able to contribute and connect with others. It is a beautiful moment!
And so what about us, my friends? What is it that holds you in captivity, that keeps you from your purpose as a claimed and called child of God? From what do you need to be freed? Is it fatigue from the difficulties of life? Is it the weight of grief, or the limitations brought by disease of body or mind? Is it the burden of a grudge, or a pain you cannot find your way through? Is it shame, or a lack of purpose or direction?
Whatever it is, friends, hear this good news: Jesus reaches his hand out also to you. He reaches out to you with the promise of intimacy, and connection, the sort of connection that can heal the soul. We offer to him our vulnerable hearts, and the pain they hold, and Jesus sees us, all of us, and reaches out to us – pulling us from death into life, from captivity into freedom, so that we can once again find the wholeness and purpose that God desires for us. We are freed to serve in newness of life.
Let us pray… Precious Lord, take our hand. When we are tired, weak, and worn, when the storms are all around, reach out your hand to us, so that we may stand, and step into the new life that you make possible. In the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit. Amen.
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