I was shaped heavily by the caricatured 1980’s theme of narcissistic greed.  The Breakfast Club, a classic movie depicting High School life in that decade, could have been shot at my Upper-Middle-Class school in Okemos, Michigan. I am glad culture has evolved since then, yet I am cognizant of the fact that the lure of fame and fortune in large and small ways exists in every person born in every era. As a pastor and as a human being wanting to follow in the footsteps of Jesus, living in a culture that is radically focused on individual success and wellbeing, I wonder about what it takes for us to wake up from our self-centered stupor? What does it even look like to not be self-absorbed? Beyond creating a more just society where laws protect against mistreatment, how does a society’s heart change?

     Martin Luther King, Jr. stated that unless justice is for everyone, justice exists for no one.  I wonder if the same is true of the eternally flowing love and grace of God. More to the egocentric point, could it be that unless and until – or to the extent that we look beyond ourselves to the needs of others – we will not really experience the love and grace we desperately need?  This is reminiscent of the line in the Lord’s Prayer: Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us, or a statement Jesus made that unless we forgive, we will not be forgiven (Matthew 6:15). To forgive others for selfish purposes seems antithetical, though, right? Perhaps what is being stated is simply this: when we are in the flow of love and grace, we extend love and grace and quite effortlessly receive and experience love and grace in return.  This feels like a much better fit with the person of Jesus than religiosity’s typical approach to turning faith into a list of contractual obligations that must be met to get God to act graciously.

     How do we cultivate this way of life Jesus taught and modeled? What can we do to offset the cultural pressures and human desires that support various levels of hedonistic attitudes and behaviors? The problem: we may be missing the most important thing that we desire from faith, and we cannot attain it simply by checking a task list box or following rules (as important as those lists may be). The Way is cultivated more than prescribed.

     That we are selfish animals who want good things for at least ourselves presents a challenge to The Way that calls for compassion.  This is hard-wired into us. Just as there is no need to apologize for wanting and desiring oxygen, neither should we feel shame or guilt for wanting to feel connected to God and the deep peace it can bring. Yet that’s not the end goal or point for Jesus. It seems that the more he experienced the love of God flowing through him the more his gaze turned toward a world in need, as seen in this account from the Gospel of Mark:

 

After Jesus left the synagogue with James and John, they went to Simon and Andrew’s home. Now Simon’s mother-in-law was sick in bed with a high fever. They told Jesus about her right away. So he went to her bedside, took her by the hand, and helped her sit up. Then the fever left her, and she prepared a meal for them.

     That evening after sunset, many sick and demon-possessed people were brought to Jesus. The whole town gathered at the door to watch. So Jesus healed many people who were sick with various diseases, and he cast out many demons. But because the demons knew who he was, he did not allow them to speak.

     Before daybreak the next morning, Jesus got up and went out to an isolated place to pray. Later Simon and the others went out to find him. When they found him, they said, “Everyone is looking for you.”

     But Jesus replied, “We must go on to other towns as well, and I will preach to them, too. That is why I came.” So he traveled throughout the region of Galilee, preaching in the synagogues and casting out demons. – Mark 1:29-39 NLT

 

The overwhelming grace of God compelled Jesus to extend grace to all others, so that the recipients could do the same. Peter’s mother-in-law was healed and then immediately used her gifts to serve others – this isn’t a “nobody else can make a sandwich except for a woman” story. This is a story of healing that allowed this woman to use her gifts and position to provide hospitality to her guests. To not be able to do that in such a context would have been a great disappointment – maybe even humiliating – for the woman.  The natural connection seems to be that when we are healed, restored, refreshed, renewed, etc., we quite naturally want to extend the same.  Think Scrooge when he woke up Christmas morning, or George Bailey’s joy when his nightmare ended. Genuine love and grace move us to extend love and grace.

     The Apostle Paul’s life was transformed by grace, and quite naturally so were his priorities. Listen to his words that indicate a shift from compelling others to fit into his version of religiosity to his commitment to shift to bring grace and love wherever he traveled: When I am with those who are weak, I share their weakness, for I want to bring the weak to Christ. Yes, I try to find common ground with everyone, doing everything I can to save some. I do everything to spread the Good News and share in its blessings.– 1 Cor. 9:21-23 NLT

     This tradition reflects The Way of Jesus passed down through the ages.  As Bruce Epperly notes in his book, Simplicity, Spirituality, Service: The Timeless Wisdom of Francis, Clare, and Bonaventure,

     Francis and Clare reflect an alternative, world-affirming spirituality. The spiritual path taken by most monastics in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries could be described as a journey of ascent from earthly to heavenly things. In contrast to this path of world-denial, Francis and Clare took another path toward God. Their mysticism reflected a “horizontal ecstasy,” in which the journey inward and the journey outward are one and the same. Going deep within, they purified their passion, enabling it to be an aid instead of a hindrance to spiritual maturity (78)... By placing ourselves in God’s presence throughout the day... we experience God as the reality in whom we “live and move and have our being” (Acts 17:28). Francis opened to God in every encounter. Synchronicity abounds, and when we live prayerfully, every interchange and choice become an opportunity to experience God’s wisdom guiding our daily lives. Spiritual practices open our whole being to God’s call (79-80).

     When we devote ourselves to The Way of Jesus, which is walking in and with and motivated by the Spirit of God, we experience an abundance of Life, Truth, Peace, Joy – all the things our deepest and truest selves yearn for. As we stay in this Way – which requires intentionality because it is countercultural and counter-intuitive – we find that our lives are filled with great meaning and impact, as Epperly notes:

     Franciscan spirituality reminds us that our prayers connect us to all creation and that even something as apparently insignificant as a prayer can open our hearts and hands and tip a situation from death to life. Going inward, we awaken to our pain and the pain of the universe and receive guidance to respond to the overwhelming crises of climate change, poverty, starvation, incivility, and racism. Prayer leads to solidarity and compassion and expands our circle of influence so that one child at a time, one call to a political representative at a time, one sacrificial gift at a time, one act of simplification at a time, the world is healed (82).

     I want this.  I need this. I think the world needs more love and grace, and I want to be part of bringing that to fruition however and wherever I can.  I bet you do, too, in your innermost being. I think staying connected to the Spirit through meditation and daily prayer exercises matters a lot. Yet I also want to state that there is another component that I believe we will overlook and exclude: awakening to our pain and everyone else’s or awakening to our humanity and the humanity we share with every other human being.  I think this may be a key component in keeping us truly grounded and empathetic because it woos us into seeing beyond the labels and prejudice lens with which we see the world.  We choose to see human beings at the border, not “illegals”. We see the anguish of Palestinians and Israelis instead of the harsh rhetoric of their respective leaders. We see real people with real concerns behind their politics. We may even be able to see the human beings within the politicians themselves (though that may take more effort!). There is a reason Clare advised spending time dwelling on the cross – Jesus joined God in suffering the worst humanity could dish out. God is always there with those who suffer. Perhaps when we join those who suffer in various ways, we find ourselves in the presence of God with them, and able to act as God’s hands and feet and mouth and ears in the process. Perhaps our attitude toward those who we might otherwise dismiss is the very litmus test denoting where the invitation to mature is extended. Our biases that keep us excluding become the path that leads to our capacity to greater inclusion.

     May you use the tools below to continue to cultivate The Way into your life so that, more and more, it becomes increasingly natural and effortless.  May you experience grace upon grace as you discover yourself being used of God as a conduit of love and grace to a world hungering for it. May you hear the woo of God taking you into deeper understanding of the humanity of others – especially those you struggle with – as the means toward your own maturing faith.

 

FRESH PRAYER

     God of change and glory, God of time and space, give me the grace of passion. Enflame me with love for this good earth and all its creatures. Purify my senses, that my delight with embodiment and creation may inspire generosity and compassion. Let love and light burst forth, warming and enlightening my spirit, and giving light to all around me and glory to God, my Creator and Loving Companion. Amen.

 

Bonus Material!

 

Tools for Developing you Spirituality and Impact

Every Breath a Prayer. My prayer life has been enriched by practicing breath prayer. As a graduate student, I learned a simple prayer taught by Congregationalist minister Allan Armstrong Hunter:

I breathe the Spirit deeply in,

And blow it gratefully out again (83).

 

Walking with Jesus. Movement is an important part of Franciscan spirituality. This practice can be done sitting in a chair or on the move. Take time for the following: Breathe deeply and slowly, perhaps using a breath prayer noted above. Ask Jesus to be your companion and reveal himself to you. Then, whether you are walking, sitting, or lying down, visualize Jesus beside you. Image yourself and Jesus joined in conversation and united in spirit. Share your spirit, emotions, thoughts—whatever is on your heart—with Jesus. Listen to his response, whether verbal or non-verbal. If you feel inclined, ask Jesus a question, and then listen for his response in this moment and throughout the day. Ask Jesus to walk beside you in the day ahead and for the sensitivity to know that he is with you. Conclude with a moment of prayerful gratitude (84-85).

 

All quotes are from Bruce Epperly’s book, Simplicity, Spirituality, Service: The Timeless Wisdom of Francis, Clare, and Bonaventure. Franciscan Media. Kindle Edition.

 

 

Commentary from the SALT Project

Epiphany 5 (Year B): Mark 1:29-39 and Isaiah 40:21-31

Big Picture:

1) In last week’s passage, Jesus begins his public ministry by directly confronting an “unclean spirit,” thereby establishing himself as “the Holy One of God,” a healer and liberator opposed to the world’s death-dealing dynamics. This week, Mark continues to develop this opening theme, filling in more substance and color about the mode, purpose, and fruit of this healing, liberating work.

2) In this week’s passage, Mark introduces a key motif in the Gospel, the so-called “Messianic secret”: Jesus’ repeated insistence — to demons and disciples alike — that his true identity not yet be disclosed. This secrecy is part of a striking vision of messiahship: the Anointed One will not come in a dominant, conspicuous form (say, as a triumphant military leader), but rather in a humble, hidden form, a suffering servant, ultimately revealed as Messiah through his death, resurrection, and subsequent community — the church — who will carry on his work.

3) The Book of Isaiah is a layered library in itself, and this week’s passage comes from the layer often called “Second Isaiah,” a section likely written during and just after Israel’s exile in Babylon. Chapter 40 is Second Isaiah’s introductory overture of good news and assurance, in which the prophet proclaims that God cares for the people of Israel and will restore them, and that God’s capacity as “the Creator of the ends of the earth” (v. 28) is more than sufficient to deliver on the promise of restoration. And by the way, the opening section of this larger passage, Isaiah 40:1-11, is the declaration of comfort and hope often associated with Advent and Christmas.  

Scripture:

1) According to Mark, the opening day of Jesus’ ministry is a Sabbath day: he begins by teaching “with authority” in the synagogue, healing a man possessed by “an unclean spirit” — and now, as the day comes to a close, healing Peter’s mother-in-law of a fever. Taken as a whole, this first day prefigures major themes — healing, restoration, hope — that will define the heart of Jesus’ mission.

2) As we saw last week, one of those themes is opposition to death-dealing forces: “the Holy One of God” comes as a healer and a liberator. And while the episode with the possessed man provides a sense of what this liberation is “freedom from,” this week’s story points toward what it is “freedom for.”

3) The passage pivots around four key verbs: proserchomai (“to come near”), krateo (“to take hold”), egeiro(“to waken, to raise”) and diakoneo (“to serve, to minister”). The first two verbs go together: Jesus “comes near” Peter’s mother-in-law, close enough to “take hold” of her hand. Throughout the Gospel, Mark distinctively emphasizes the power of touch, including the idea (as we’ll see in the weeks ahead) that Jesus is unafraid to touch and be touched by the supposedly “unclean.”

4) Having taken her hand, Jesus “raises her up.” The same word (egeiro) is used of Jesus himself at the resurrection — it’s there in the famous line, “He has been raised; he is not here” (Mark 16:6) — and so the term evokes a renewed strength, a reinvigoration, a reawakening, a restoration, a return.

5) And finally, what is she renewed for? For diakonos, “ministry, service,” the same root that gives us the word “deacon” (she is the original deacon!). What’s more, the word diakonos literally means “to kick up dust” — this is an active, practical, on-the-move, change-the-world sort of work. In short, she is lifted up to serve. She is freed for ministry, to kick up some dust and get some things done. She is the pioneer who blazes the trail for the anonymous woman who causes a little dust-up near the end of Mark’s Gospel by anointing Jesus (“what she has done will be told in remembrance of her,” Mark 14:3-9), and also for the group of women at the crucifixion who stay and keep watch and remain with the vandalized body, even as the male disciples panic and flee (see Mark 15:40-41; the Greek word translated as “provided for” is diakoneo).

6) It’s worth recalling here how illness not only debilitates the body, it also can cut a person off from his or her social life and contributions to community — and this can feel like a loss of dignity or purpose. If we take Peter’s mother-in-law seriously as the first deacon (or dust-kicker-upper!), a model of ministry, we can see that her healing is also a restoration to dignity. Hospitality was highly prized in the ancient world, and for early Christians, to be hospitable in a way that advanced the Jesus movement was both an art and an honor. in this way, for Mark, the healing in this story is not only a matter of a fever departing; it’s also a matter of restoration to community, and of participation in the movement. This social dimension of healing is a key theme to which Mark will return again and again.

7) In need of some restoration himself, Jesus retreats to the wilderness to pray — recalling his preparatory 40 days in the wilderness after his baptism just a few verses earlier (Mark 1:12-13). Taken together, these passages point to the renewing powers of wilderness; the ancient cycle of work and rest, engagement and retreat, action and contemplation; and the need for those laboring to restore the world to seek out regular, intentional practices of restoration themselves.

8) This passage in Isaiah is one of the Bible’s exceptional hymns to God’s greatness as witnessed through the glorious wonders of creation. The prophet’s point is that this greatness should give us comfort and faith in God’s care for us, regardless of the apparent difficulties we may face. Have you not heard?  God is the incomparable Creator of all things, from the supernova to the firefly’s wing, the rings of Saturn to the spots on the leopard. Is God then unable to care for you? Look to the heavens: the stars in the sky are not other gods (as some contemporaries then thought), but rather marvels God created simply by calling their names. Have you not heard the psalmist sing? “God heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds. God determines the number of the stars; God gives to all of them their names” (Ps 147:3-5).

9) This creation-through-speech evokes Genesis 1 — and it resonates with Mark 1, too, as Jesus drives out the unclean spirit merely by speaking, and heals Peter’s mother-in-law through gracious, life-giving touch. Have you not heard? You may be laid low but have courage! God will take your hand and lift you up (Mark); God will renew your strength, and you’ll mount up with wings like eagles (Isaiah)!

Takeaways:

1) For Mark, this first day of ministry is a microcosm of Jesus’ mission as a whole: the Holy One of God comes to confront death-dealing forces for the sake of life-giving restoration. Jesus will be resurrected later in the story, but his life’s mission is all about resurrection (literally “standing again”) in the here and now. He comes near in order to lift us up into service, to reawaken us into dignity, community, and genuine health.

2) And please note, Jesus doesn’t so much say this with words as demonstrate it with action. He offers and enacts a “freedom from” bondage and ruin, and at the same time a “freedom for” service, ministry, and kicking up a little dust. And since this first day of his ministry is on a Sabbath day, Jesus thereby embodies the true meaning of Sabbath: a day for restoration, for health, for resurrection, for joy, and in that sense for anticipating the Great Sabbath to come. Throughout his ministry, Jesus proclaims the Sabbath of Sabbaths, the Jubilee of Jubilees, the dawn of a new era: “The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God has come near” (Mark 1:15).

3) Some listeners may well wonder whether or not we are required to believe miracle stories like this one — and this kind of doubt puts us in good company! As the Swiss theologian Karl Barth has pointed out, miracle stories are designed to astonish — and astonishment, after all, is a blend of belief and disbelief. Accordingly, Barth contends that Christian readers should neither merely “believe” miracle stories (for that would mean we aren’t truly astonished by them) nor merely “disbelieve” them (ditto); rather, these stories should leave us continually “taken aback.” Thus, we may truly take our place among the “amazed” crowds, and turn our attention to the deeper dimensions of what Jesus’ mission means for us today. What death-dealing forces should we tangibly and practically confront? What life-giving service should we tangibly and practically undertake? What dust, good deacons, do we need to kick up around here?

4) As we seek to answer these questions, Mark and Isaiah give us guidance. Following Jesus means having the courage to confront forces of ruin; it means finding ways to tenderly bind up wounds; it means not only proclaiming resurrection but living out lives of resurrection, for ourselves and for others; and it means doing all of this with our deeds as much as with our words. Jesus comes as a healer and liberator, calls us to join him — and promises to accompany us along the way, caring for us as we confront, come near, take hold, lift up, and serve. A great challenge, it’s true, the greatest of our lives — but God’s love, companionship, and support are more than enough. Have you not heard?