Spiritual warfare being a real thing, Adventers did not receive the recording of the homily for this past weekend (June 27). Those who do not believe the words of St. Paul regarding spiritual warfare being real and constantly happening should spend some time trying to do ministry using technology. Everything can be plug and play during the week, but when a service starts . . . look out!
Had Adventers
received the video, some would have likely been nicely distracted and not heard
a word I said. The camera caught the sea
marsh and some of the birds on the southern coast of Maine. It is an Estuarial Reserve, similar to Radnor
Lake but on the coast, that is abundant in life. I had some fun interacting with the college
students who were trapping and banding birds to study their migratory, nesting,
and daily patterns of life to make sure the preserve is not too affected by
development. And I had to use the back
deck to film because the front of the house, with the waves crashing on the
rocks, was definitely distracting even for the preacher! So, we are all stuck with words.
It is, as
most of you know, a bit disconcerting for me to preach while absent. Sermons, I think, are far more applicable to
our common life when we are engaged in life together. I found myself drawn to Mark, and the Gospel
as the antidote to loneliness and death and isolation, mostly as a result, I
think, of my interactions with people on vacation this week rather than with
Adventers. In particular, I met a lot of
self-identified Christians who had some strong feelings about their churches
remaining shut for fifteen months or so.
They were angry at bishops before they found out that some dioceses were
opened back up after a couple months. Now,
that anger has escalated a bit. And I
must confess, I am a bit surprised and envious at the number of churches who
paid clergy to do nothing this last sixteen months. No virtual worship, no Bible studies, no
ministries. Nada! I expect you and I will be hearing about the
consequences of such inactivity and action for the next couple decades at least,
but that is a sermon for another day!
Our story
in Mark takes place as Jesus returns from the Gentile side of the Sea of
Galilee to the Jewish side. The story is
well-known within Christian circles, and some outside the faith even know this
story. Jesus is greeted by a man named
Jairus, who falls at the feet of Jesus, begging Him to save his daughter. Jairus’ daughter is sick and on the verge of
death. Somehow, Jairus has heard of the
works of Jesus and has come to Him as a last resort.
Our Western
sensibilities are sometimes offended that the man falls at Jesus’ feet, but
such is the appropriate response of a patriarch desperate for help that he,
himself, cannot provide for those in his care.
Jairus knows he cannot save his daughter. His only hope is this itinerant Rabbi,
through Whom Yahweh is working deeds of power.
If Jairus can prevail upon Jesus’ person, maybe He can help save his
daughter. Unsurprisingly to us, Mark’s
audience, Jesus agrees, and the group heads off to the home of Jairus.
While
walking there, others in the town have heard of Jesus’ deeds. They press in on all sides. Imagine Garth Brooks walking down Lil’
Broadway. That’s the press of the
crowd. In that crowd, Mark shares there
was a woman who had been bleeding for twelve years. Mark shares she had spent everything she had
on doctors, and she was getting worse.
Her primary thought or belief is that, if she touches the cloak of Jesus,
she will be healed. She reaches out to
touch His cloak, and she is healed immediately.
Jesus stops
and demands to know who touched Him. The
disciples and apostles are “Are You crazy, Lord? Look at this crowd. Who hasn’t touched You?” Jesus, of course, has none of it. He has more healing yet to do. So, He waits and looks around. The woman knows she has been healed, but she
also knows that what she has done was dangerous. Again, a supplicant falls at Jesus’ feet and
confesses it was her and why. Mark says
she told Jesus the whole truth. Jesus calls
her daughter and tells her that her faith has healed her and that she is to go
in peace, freed from her suffering. Many
modern readers assume her only suffering was her bleeding.
Meanwhile,
poor Jairus. He fondest, wildest dream
was answered. The Rabbi agreed to try
and save his daughter. The crowd,
though, has slowed their progress, and now this touching thing has distracted Jesus. As Jairus agonizes, people come to him to let
him know that his daughter died and not to bother the Rabbi any more. Curiously, Jesus turns to Jairus, ignoring
the words of those who brought Jairus the horrible news, and tells Jairus not
to fear, but believe.
Mark tells us that only a select few are
allowed to continue on with Jesus. They
arrive at Jairus’ house and see and hear the mourners. Jesus tells them the child is only sleeping,
but those present know death all too well and laugh at Jesus’ assertion. Jesus puts everyone out and goes into the
room with Jairus, his wife, and the three Apostles. Mark records that Jesus told the little girl
in Aramaic simply to get up, which she does.
There no extravagant formulae. No
pentagrams or hocus pocus spells. Jesus
commands, and even the dead obey Him! And
then Jesus strictly instructs those present not to share what happened and to
feed her.
So, why my
focus on this story at this time? As I
noted above, I have had dozens of conversations with other Christians who are
grappling with the effects of the pandemic and the changes wrought, who have
been forced to examine, perhaps for the very first time or the most significant
time in their lives, the claims of the Gospel, and who rightly feel angered by
their Church community. As I thought
about those conversations, I realized that all those same attitudes and
emotions and thoughts are still likely present here at Advent, just not in the
sheer numbers that I have encountered in my travels. What do I mean?
Who is
Jesus? Adventers would likely answer
along acceptable lines, at least so far as the creeds are concerned. But in places where such considerations are
not intentionally discussed, in places where discipleship is lacking or absent,
answering the question is a true challenge.
It is a challenge, however, that is always before the Church and the
world. Was Jesus just an itinerant hippie
who did not care too much about anything but love and partying, or was He
really the Son of God who came for our salvation, to make it possible for us to
be restored in our relationship to God?
I will not bore you at this time with all the arguments, but many of you
have engaged in conversations along these lines.
Mark is
clear who he thinks Jesus is. The
miracles in Mark’s Gospel testify to Jesus’ power and authority, power and
authority that can only come from God!
The stories today deal mostly with death. For all our advancement, for all our medical
knowledge, we all still bow to the scythe of death. And yet, Jesus has the ability to raise
people from death. How can this be? Some modernists will reject the stories as
superstition. They know that nobody has
such power. And we, as an Easter people,
will sometimes remind them that Jesus’ Resurrection is THE event which marks
His singular importance in salvation history.
Those of us with more common sense will even remind our unbelieving friends
that each one of those who witnessed these events gave up their lives in
service of the Gospel. We live in a
world where people have complained bitterly about the need to wear a mask to
protect others, about the fact that restaurants and bars were operating at
reduced capacities so that we could not get food or drink exactly when we
wanted, and that we should not help “the poor” with access to medical care or
financial resources for housing, utilities, and food for fear they’d get
lazy. And these men and women literally
laid down their lives in service of the Gospel.
The world told them they were nuts and to cease, and they refused! What they saw, what they witnessed, changed
them at a fundamental level. Was Jesus Who
and what they expected? No. He was far more! And it took that power over death to convince
them of the truth of His teachings! It
is, in the end, that power over death (and the supernatural and nature) that separates
Jesus from all the other “spiritualists” in the world. It is that power which causes us to gather to
give thanks and praise to Him for His work, even when our clergy are absent!
And,
although most of us think that power over death is enough for us, there is
still more in the story. We hear the
claims that the Bible is misogynistic, as if the Bible does not teach each one
of us that everyone, men and women, are created in the image of God, as if women
and men cannot be used by God to reach the world or His people in His name. Just to point out the obvious, it is a little
girl and a bleeding woman whom Jesus heals in this pericope. If God only cared about men, and thought
women inferior, why heal a little girl and a bleeding woman—it would make more
sense to heal men and boys. Make no
mistake, I understand the Church has, at times, failed to instruct men that
women are created by God in His image, but that is on us, mostly men, and not
God. We are the ones not paying attention. We are the ones demonstrating yet again our
need of a Savior!
The raising
of a dead daughter is essentially the same across cultures and time. Those of us with children can well imagine
Jairus’ panic and desperation, the chafing at the delay with the bleeding
woman, and the resulting joy and wonder that this Jesus has power over death. Few of us, though, can relate to the
woman. She lived in a culture where
menstruation made her unclean. Under the
torah, she could not go to worship until her cycle had ended, she had bathed,
and made her thank offering. For those
who do not study the Scriptures or the extent literature of the time, it is
presumed that God hated women and did not want them around at that time. Life was in the blood. That was one point of the sacrificial
system. Living blood, offered on the
altar, cleansed human beings from sin.
All of that pointed to Christ’s blood, shed for us. But blood was also a major pollutant of God’s
people. How many times do the prophets
remind us and them of the sin of shedding innocent blood? How many times does Scripture remind us that
menstruating blood was a sign of death, not life? The problem, of course, was that men added
rules and expectations and teachings, rules and expectations, and teachings
that, curiously, never made their way into Scripture despite the modern claims
that “we” wrote the Bible and can re-write it if we choose. And, to be absolutely clear, unclean does not
equal sinful. Oh, on the off chance some
of us have forgotten, men could be unclean, too! We know this from Jesus’ words to Peter regarding
food, but we are reminded of this truth in Jesus’ encounter with this woman.
Most of us
today would assume healing her would be enough.
But would it be, based on what you know about your friends and neighbors? She has been bleeding for twelve years! For twelve years people have literally avoided
her like the plague and gossiped about her.
Her neighbors have likely come to the conclusion that she is despised and
accursed by God, that this bleeding is what she deserved! When wives bled, guess who else was unclean? The husband.
The children. Anyone who came
under her roof and, later, anyone who was touched by her shadow. Now, imagine you lived in such an existence
for twelve years. You have literally
lived a life of banishment for twelve years!
Incidentally, guess what the name of the Mishna tract on menstruation
was called? Banished. Physically, Jesus heals her bleeding, but she
needs more! He understands her need
better than she or we. He stops and
demands she answer His question Who touched Me. Eventually, she falls at His feet and
confesses everything. By touching Jesus,
she knows she has risked making Him unclean and in need of purification. She knows any rabbi worth his salt will
condemn her action, be mad that she dared to do this simple act, to share her uncleanness
with him. She may lose her life because of
that touch. The crowd might well be incited
to condemn her. But she confesses to
Jesus that she touched Him. Jesus, like
so much of His work, does this for her benefit, the benefit of the crowd, and
for us. He knows what has happened and
why. He knows the healing she really
needs.
Now the whole
crowd knows she has been healed. The
Rabbi, the Prophet, the possible Messiah has said so. In that brief answer, her twelve year banishment
is over. Everyone knows she is
restored! Gloriously! She is clean!
Still, Jesus is not done! He
calls her daughter. This Rabbi, Who is
clearly favored by God, calls her daughter.
Jairus’ daughter has a family who loves her, we know this by Jairus’
actions and Jesus’ declaration, but this woman has learned for the last twelve years
of banishment and isolation that she is unloved. Can you imagine what that address meant to
her? Can you understand the longing of
belonging with which she lived? She is a
daughter of God, even when her community has forgotten and failed her.
How many
people have we, the Church and Advent, failed during this pandemic? Oh, we can make all kinds of protestations,
but we have still failed others. What
needs haven’t we met for those whom God has given us to minister? How many phone calls or emails or cards have
we not sent? How much more food have we
not worked to use to feed? How many
people have we allowed to become banished?
Isolated? Unloved? And yet our story today reminds each one of
us, that despite our failures, God loves each one of us. All He demands is that we repent and try
again. And safe and secure in that
knowledge that He loves us, we tackle those ministries, those works, that He
has placed upon our hearts that others might know the comfort and joy of His saving
embrace. It is a glorious calling. One in which we all fail. And yet such is the power of His love and
grace that people like us can testify effectively to Who He is and why we
believe. People like us can lay down our
lives in service of Him trusting that, one glorious Day, He will command us to
rise much like He died Jairus’ daughter.
And like those present in this story, we will rise and celebrate the
work that He has done for us and then join Him and others in that feast of thanksgiving
and deliverance. Can you imagine it? Can you taste it?
Of course,
until that Day comes when He declares our labors over, we have much work to
do. We feed in His name. We clothe in His name. We visit in His name. We remind people of the truth that they were
created in His image and loved dearly by Him.
We remind them that He calls them daughter or son. And when they protest that if we only knew,
we laugh joyously reminding them that we do know – all too well! And we give thanks that He loved us when we
were unlovable and testify to His redeeming work in our lives! Who do we know who has been banished? Who do we know who has been isolated? Who do we know in fear and terror and
anxiety? Those, my friends, are the
Jairus’ daughters and bleeding women of today!
Those are the ones to whom our Lord is calling each one of us to
minister in His name!
In Christ’s Peace,
Brian†
