So, here we are, five weeks into Epiphany, and we are still on the first chapter of Mark's gospel. And if you sit down and read the whole chapter at once, you can figure out why Jesus was sneaking out before dawn in order to have time and space to pray. You know the story, if you've been paying attention.
After John’s announcement of who Jesus is we hear of Jesus’ baptism and then about his forty days of being tempted in the wilderness. Right after that he begins to call his disciples and next we hear of the start of his ministry of preaching and teaching and casting out demons.
Even in this passage, ten short Mark-like verses, look how much gets done. Jesus leaves synagogue, goes to the House of Simon and Andrew, lifts Simon's mother-in-law up, and cures her fever without even saying a word.
She jumps up, and having no time for rehab, she serves them.
That evening the sick and possessed are brought to him; he cures a few of the sick, drives out a few of the demons, opens the door, and – BAM – there's absolutely everybody in the town, standing there, wanting a cure or a glimpse or an autograph.
It’s been quite a beginning for Jesus. And you can almost imagine Jesus the next morning, tiptoeing as he did his best not to wake anyone — maybe trying to sneak out the back door to avoid the crowd — holding his breath as he prayed that for a little while at least he could get off by himself to rest. Because of course, Jesus knew in a way I often forget that he needed that time apart.
This is a very, very busy reading.
When Brooks and I were in Israel, we went to Capernaum and visited the church built on the site of Simon's mother-in-law's house. You could still feel the flurry of activity of our Gospel passage.
Tour buses roaring up the road, honking at each other as they try to move in more and more people. Tour guides barking in so many different languages, clapping their hands, waving signs to attract their charges.
Old guys hawking their wares; kids yelling and laughing and doing what kids do. Pilgrims, roaming through the church, murmuring and muttering to each other.
Everybody pressing and pushing and getting closer and closer to the altar, close to Jesus.
But Brooks and I had a habit of breaking away from the pack and trying to sneak off to the side and see if there was anything else that the tour guides didn't show us. And sure enough, there was a little gate behind the church with steps leading down to the Sea of Galilee with a sign that said something in Hebrew and Arabic that probably said something like “Keep Out.” But that didn't stop us.
By the shore there was an arbor with grape vines twisted in it, and as the sun beat down on the arbor, we noticed the shadows that were cast were moving and coiling around. When we looked up we found that the movement was the movement of dozens of cats sunning themselves on the top, stretching, and grooming, and purring. And just taking life as it came. Being part of God's creation, no more and no less.
And Brooks said, “You know, maybe when Jesus snuck off to pray it was like this.” I thought, we only see those paintings of him hunched over a rock, all worried when he prayed. But maybe he would sit by the shore, praying, just taking in the scenery, waiting for the sun to come up and shine down on him.”
We stood there for a while, watching the cats as the sun bounced off the Sea of Galilee. Then a guard of some sort shouted down at us, and assuming he was telling us we shouldn't be there, we did our best impression of Mark and IMMEDIATELY hurried back up the stairs to blend into the hustling crowds of Capernaum.
And I think we learned then a little about what Jesus is showing us today. Look at who all is in this story. Disciples, Simon's mother-in-law, people needing healing, people who crowd around, even demons. And I think that, as Christians, we can see a little of ourselves in each of these.
We can see ourselves as disciples, and we LIKE that, trotting along behind Jesus, being part of the group, doing the things that Jesus wants us to do.
And we can see ourselves as Simon's mother-in-law, after the healing grace of our baptism, after the affirmation that this is indeed someone we want to follow, jumping up and immediately rushing out to service. And that sounds wonderful.
But, if we're honest with ourselves, we can also so easily be part of the crowd, pounding on Jesus' door. “We aren't done with you,” we say. “We need more.”
“Stick around, do a few more miracles, so we don't have to.”
And after Jesus sneaks away, I wonder how many of us would be part of the grout that says, “I would love to follow Christ and be a disciple, but I've got all these Zoom meetings, and then I need to catch up on all these emails, and the dog needs walking, and the laundry is piling up, and so something has just got to go. Maybe next time. I'll focus on Jesus next time.”
We are, all of us, just a little bit of each of these people, kinda like our own version of that church sign I saw – wanting to do so much, but sometimes letting our demons talk us out of it and sometimes demanding that God does it for us.
But that's NOT how Jesus works.
Jesus lifts us servants up out of our fevered lives and then moves on...and it's the task of us left behind to convince others to follow along, too, and serve alongside, to pick up the slack, to bring others into the fold to send them out again to serve side-by-side.
We aren't supposed to fall back on always hunting Jesus down like he's escaped our grasp. He's entrusted this work to US.
But Jesus shows us one thing more. And this is important. He shows us that to be any use to anyone, we have stop. We have to stop. And we have to pray. Over and above anything else...pray.
We cannot do this kind of work; we cannot serve in the world; we cannot serve God, if we don't stop and rest and pray.
Without prayer, that work will grind us down. We'll wear ourselves out. We can't do it all.
So, as we get near Lent, like I have done every year, I challenge each of us, take just a minute, maybe two (maybe five?), every day to just sit with God, to put everything else aside, and just listen for God's will. A minute doesn't sound like much, but trust me, your prayer muscles will feel the workout.
I'm not talking about a list of needs, tasks you want God to accomplish, not that. Just BE with God. That's what Jesus does when he goes off to pray. Heck that's what those cats were doing when they were sunning themselves.
Just praying, and worshiping, and giving thanks, and listening – each in their own way.
Pray how you choose – sit in silence and listen, sing a song, sew or organize your garage, go for a drive, or go sit on the shore of Galilee, back against a rock, waiting for the sun to warm your face.
If I were Mark, I would tell you do this IMMEDIATELY! Oh what the heck. Let's do it. Let's do it now:
Let us pray.
O heavenly Father, who has filled the world with beauty:
Open our eyes to behold your gracious hand in all your works;
Open our ears that we may hear you speaking to our lives;
that, rejoicing in your whole creation, we may learn to serve
you with gladness; for the sake of him through whom all
things were made, your Son Jesus Christ our Lord.
Amen.