(Homily for Gayton Road Christian Church's Worship on February 4, 2017, Epiphany V)
Teaching and Healing
“And he went throughout Galilee,
proclaiming the message in their synagogues and casting out demons”
(1:39). Teaching and healing.[1] If you take everything that Jesus did
in the gospels and reduced it all to its common denominators, these two things
are what you would end up with.
This was Jesus’ ministry.
Teaching and healing.
Last week, we went with Jesus to
the synagogue in Capernaum, where Mark says—twice—that Jesus shocked his
audience with his teaching. What
did he teach? The strange thing
is, Mark doesn’t say. What Mark does say, is that a troubled man
interrupts Jesus in his teaching.
And instead of ignoring him or waiting for him to be removed, Jesus
stops and speaks to the troubled man.
Jesus cares for the troubled man and will not rest until he does.
The best answer that I can muster
to the question, “What did Jesus teach?” is love. In our world, a teacher’s authority means great knowledge
and a bold voice. A teacher’s
authority commands respect and silence.
Disruptions are not tolerated.
In the kingdom of God, however, a teacher’s authority means something
very different. It means
love. Rather than look upon the
troubled man with impatience or annoyance, Jesus looks upon him with
compassion. He cares for him and
speaks to his troubles.
The Word “Cure”
So we know a little bit about how
Jesus teaches. But how about the
second piece to his ministry? What
did Jesus heal?
This week, we follow Jesus from
the synagogue where he has been teaching to the house of his disciples Simon
(who is also known as “Peter”) and Andrew. I imagine that they go there to eat, much in the same way
that folks traditionally have enjoyed a Sunday lunch or dinner after going to
church. But when they arrive,
Jesus hears about Simon’s mother-in-law, who lies restricted to the bed with a
fever.
We all know what’s coming
next. Jesus will “cure” her,
right? That’s the word we commonly
find in our translations for how Jesus responds to the sick. For instance, later in this passage,
when a whole crowd of sick people gathers at the door of Simon’s house, Jesus
“cures” them.
I don’t know about you, but for
me, the word “cure” suggests that the body has a problem to which there is a
sure solution. I think of “cure”
in the same way I think of a mechanical problem with my car. When my car doesn’t work, I take it to
the mechanic. He finds the faulty
part, and he fixes it. And my car
is “cured.”
For me, the word “cure” turns
bodies into machines. It turns
care into control. When I think of
Jesus “curing” people, I think of a man with magical powers, instantaneously
fixing the faulty parts of body-machines.
Jesus’ “Therapy”
But the word “cure” in the Greek
is therapeuo, from which we get the
word therapy. As our word therapy
suggests, therapeuo has to do with
care and presence and practice. It
has to do with something much bigger than an isolated moment of magic.
When Jesus comes to Simon’s
mother-in-law, Mark does not use the word therapeuo. Instead he shows us what therapeuo looks like.
“He came,” Mark says, “and took
her by the hand and lifted her up.”
Which is to say, Jesus touches her in her sickness. Elsewhere it is said that Jesus bore
our diseases as his own.[2] I wonder if that is the first step to
his “therapy.” He shares our
sickness, so that he may then lead us—lift us—to new life.
When Mark describes Jesus’
“therapy” for Simon’s mother-in-law, he talks about more than an isolated fix
to her body. He describes the
result. “Then the fever left her,”
Mark says, “and she began to serve
them” (1:31). Sickness had limited
Simon’s mother-in-law. It was not
simply that her body-machine had been malfunctioning. It was, rather, that the condition of her body had limited
her from living. She had been shut
away from the world, confined to a bed.
She had been kept away from her calling. But when Jesus shatters her isolation, touches her sickness,
and enacts his therapy, he pulls her from
confinement into community. He
pulls her from incapacity to calling.
After Jesus has lifted her up, I
imagine her suddenly coming into her own.
I imagine her entering into her element as a hostess, bustling about
with preparations for the evening dinner.
In other words, Jesus does not merely fix her faulty body-machine. In his therapy, he does so much
more. He restores her to
life. He restores her with a sense
of call that moves her. He
restores her to the community that makes her who she is.
A Modern Day Story of Healing, Or “Therapy”
It’s hard to talk about faith and
healing, though, when we all know people who never received a full fix for
their diseases, despite plenty of prayer.
What does this mean? That God chooses to cure some people
and not others? That there are
reasons beyond our comprehension for care shown to one person but not another?
I would imagine that we all have
different answers to these questions.
And that’s fine. Our faith
is not uniform.
But our faith is united. We all trust in a God of healing, in
one way or another.
Let me share one story from our
church that gives me hope in a God of healing, a Christ of divine therapy.
If you were here at all in the
last couple years, you know Tom and Candice. It’s hard not to know them, as sociable as Tom is. Because of diabetes complications, Tom
has been on dialysis for the last couple years. He and Candice had been exploring the possibility of a
kidney transplant, but right now that looks unlikely.
I won’t sugarcoat it. Life has been rough for Tom and
Candice. It would be a lot easier
if Tom did not have to deal with dialysis on a daily basis.
But if you were to ask Tom about
all of this, he probably wouldn’t let you dwell on the difficulties. As he’s said to me on more than one
occasion, “I don’t want anyone’s pity.”
Instead, Tom will talk about what he’s learned through his experience
and his desire to help others navigate the uncertainties and confusions of
diabetes and dialysis. In other
words, Tom—and Candice too—feel a call on their lives, a call to share their
experience and to give others hope.
And it goes without saying that Tom and Candice maintain a strong sense
of community. Their friendships
fill them with life.
Life Is More Than Biological
I continue to pray for Tom’s
health. I honestly don’t know
about cures—why they show up for some people and not for others. What I do know, is that God is our
healer. Like Jesus who came to
Simon’s mother-in-law, touched her, and lifted her from confinement to
community and from incapacity to calling, so I believe that Christ journeys
alongside Tom and Candice, lifting them too into a life-giving calling and
vibrant community. I believe in the healing of Tom.
Our faith tells us that life is
more than biological. Life is more
than merely a mechanical tick-tock.
Jesus came not so that we might have the mechanics of a beating heart,
but so that our lives might be abundant with meaning—with a sense of calling
and communion.
What did Jesus heal? He healed more than the faulty parts of
our body-machines. That would be a
feat far too small for the love of God.
Jesus healed lives. He
wrought wholeness in the shape of calling and community.
Following Jesus:
Bringing Love and Life
It’s all beginning to click for
me. Jesus came teaching and
healing, Mark says. What did he
teach? Love. What did he heal? Lives.
And all of this, Mark says, is
part of the message that Jesus proclaims: “The kingdom of God has come near”
(1:15). What is the kingdom of
God? The kingdom of God
turns on love and life. To ask if
something is the part of the kingdom, is perhaps as simple as asking, “Does it
bring love to the world? Does it
bring life to others? And not just
the mechanical tick-tock kind of life, but a life full of meaning—a life filled
with calling and community?”
“Follow me,” is the daunting
invitation that Jesus gives us.
Follow Jesus? How? We can’t preach like he did. We can’t heal like he did.
Or is that just the voice of
doubt? Because we can love like he
did. And we can share life with
the sick, walking with them as they rediscover their calling and their
community. We can preach the most
beautiful sermons wordlessly by loving others, and we can make miraculous
healings with the simplest gestures of touch and words of hope. We can, we can.
“Follow me,” he says. We can.
Prayer
Caring Christ,
Whose touch
Restores us
To abundant life:
To a calling that moves us
And a community that makes us more.
Empower us to follow you,
Preaching love with our deeds
And bringing life with our presence.
Amen.
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