Reflection on Genesis 17: 1-7, 15-16

 

For the next few weeks we will be deviling deeply into the roots of our faith.  What are the nutrients of our faith?  What is the rich soil out of which our faith grows?  What fertilizer makes our faith rich and revives us once again.  What streams of underground water do our roots of faith tap in order to give us life? 

Do I seem to be a little overabundant in the root and soil metaphors this morning? 

Maybe, it is the spring-like weather from this week.  It really was nice! 

Maybe, it is because I discovered this week at the dentist that one of my teeth has squid roots?  That is a tooth with four roots rather than two.  I know, that was vital information that you all needed to know. 

Maybe, it is because it is Lent and during Lent we hope that God will speak to us in a deep way and turn us to be more faithful and more deeply connected?  It is probably that.  After-all, plants that have deep roots which spread wide are the plants that can weather high winds and find nutrients in times of drought. 

This week, in one of the first stories of the Bible, we read about Abraham and the root of faith that we call a “covenant” or as I like to put it: a “promise.”

Promises are so fundamental to life.  When Ember was first born, my soul was so filled with joy and love for that tiny, helpless, little baby girl, that I was driven to make a promise, “No matter what,” I whispered in her ear, “I will always be your Daddy.” 

This was not a statement concerning the biological reality of my fatherhood; rather it was a promise to love her and raise her and be with her as long as God grants me the opportunity.  It was a one-sided promise to her that no matter what, I would love her and care for her.  Nothing would be required of her for that love and care.  You could say that it was an unconditional promise, stemming from an unconditional love.

I will say that again, “it was an unconditional promise, stemming from an unconditional love.”

These intimate, unconditional promises between God and us are the sorts of promises that are at the root of our faith.  The first time we see such a promise is at the end of Noah’s story. 

After God got fed up with the evil of humanity and decided to essentially wipe the world clean and start over, and after actually going through with the plan by sending an enormous flood to wipe the world clean, God decides that this just might not be the best way to show the world that it is loved.  You cannot just destroy something every time it makes you mad. 

So, God makes a one-sided promise to the world, that every time God sees the bow hung away in the sky for safe keeping, God will remember to never to pick up that bow and use it to destroy the world again.  It was an unconditional promise, stemming from an unconditional love.

Before I continue with the promise found in Abram and Sarai’s story, I just want to say quickly that God has a lot to say about cancel culture in Noah’s story. 

You know cancel culture.  It can look like a civil rights activists being silenced and cancelled by media and government as he or she tries to speak for freedom.  Or, it can look like political figures being silenced and cancelled because they share a word that is not acceptable to others. 

After performing the ultimate in cancel culture this one time, through the destruction of a flood, God decides that redeeming and transforming humanity is a better answer than cancelling humanity. 

A promise is better than pulling down.  So, God gives a promise to Noah and us, Noah’s descendants.  We are promised that complete destruction is not the way of God.

That promise is just the start of God’s promises though.  As we read today, God gave a promise to Abram.  Genesis 17 reads, “As for me, this is my covenant with you: You shall be the ancestor of a multitude of nations.  No longer shall your name be Abram, but your name shall be Abraham; for I have made you the ancestor of a multitude of nations.  I will make you exceedingly fruitful; and I will make nations of you and kings shall come from you.  I will establish my covenant between me and you, and your offspring after you throughout their generations, for an everlasting covenant, to be God to you and to your offspring after you.” 

This is the promise from God; that Abram will have children, and God will remain devoted to Abram and his children. 

That sounds all well and good, (God is good! God provides!), but here’s the thing; Abram does not know that God will provide.  Abram is ninety-nine years old.  His wife is not much younger.  And, Abram has heard this same promise before from God, and nothing has come of it!

Having been in Abram and Sarai’s shoes, and not conceiving of a child for twenty years, I understand.  I have to say that the words, “God will make it happen someday” fell pretty flat on us throughout those 20 years.  Now, we all know the end of our family’s story; we have two healthy and wonderful children, but we did not know the end of the story at the time.  Like Abram and Sarai, the only thing we knew at the time was the uncertainty and the fear that we would never get to have a child of our own. 

And, that is the simple point that I would like to make; that behind promises lay uncertainty and fear. 

Will we ever have a child?  Will peace ever come back to the war torn nation?  Will the grief ever come to an end?  Will God forgive me even for this?  Will I get to live beyond tomorrow?  Will I ever have someone to love me?  Will I die here alone?  Will the insurance company ever get back to me about fixing my car?  You know, vital questions! 

Behind every promise lay uncertainty and fear.  Insurance companies are famous for giving promises, but are not as famous for making the promises come true.

The possibility that it might not come true is precisely what makes trusting in the promise an act of faith.  Abraham and Sarah have no choice but to eventually trust that they will have a child of their own.  The world trusts that it will not be destroyed by a life-ending flood.  And, Christians trust that “just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, so we too might walk in newness of life,” the words of trust from Paul in Romans 6:4. 

Newness of life is not a certainty.  God could change God’s mind.  God could decide that cancel culture is the way and that loving and redeeming is not.  It is possible.  After-all, God is God and God will do whatever God wants.  But, God has given us a promise, an everlasting covenant, as God says is God’s own words, “to be God to you and to your offspring after you.”

So, trusting in the promises of God is our first, and probably our deepest root of faith. 

But, this is not a root that we just decide one day to send down into the ground.  Plants are not in control of their roots.  You cannot decide to be cool like me and give your tooth four roots instead of two. 

This root of faith is a gift from God.  Our root of faith is a gift that comes from generations and generations of believers telling each other over and over again of the times that God did live up to the promise. 

God did give Abraham and Sarah a “multitude of nations.”  God has not wipes us clean off the face of the earth through a flood.  God has loved us to the end on the cross, and given us the life of his blood, the new life found in the resurrection. 

Jesus Christ has provided us with the gift of trust, the gift of faith.  And, we share the stories over and over about how good God has been.  And, it is that root that nourishes our souls day in and day out. 

We are firmly rooted in God’s unconditional promise, stemming from an unconditional love.

Reflection on Mark 1:9-15

I am not saying that I can keep away from temptation as much as Jesus, but I have visited Hershey’s Chocolate World before with the kids, determined to get out of there without spending money on candy.  And, though Satan is really good at what he does, like by placing an entire display of Reese Peanut Butter cups right at the exit of the Chocolate World animatronics ride, I can confidently say that took a deep breath and walked straight…up to the giant Reese Peanut Butter Cups.  You know the ones that are one pound of salty, peanut butter delight encased in Hershey’s smooth milk chocolate?

I admit it: I am a failure!  I could not walk by temptation.  I did not walk by temptation.  I would tell you that the giant cups of chocolate and peanut butter delight are long gone, but I fear that they will be hanging around my mid-section for a couple of years to come.

I confess that I am captive to sin and cannot free myself.  In particular, I am captive to the irresistible pull of Reese Peanut Butter Cups which have no nutritional value what-so-ever.  Temptation has a way of luring you into something that you know is not good or healthy, but is none-the-less completely satisfying. 

Now, if temptation was only about candy, its influence on the world might not be quite so bad.  But, we all know that I am walking lightly into this conversation, because temptation goes much deeper, and can be so much more destructive than giving into a delightful treat. 

Temptation is everywhere, luring you away from healthy relationships with other people and with God.  Those who have cheated on their spouses know the destruction that temptation can bring.  Those who have turned to substances and have recognized the effect on those they love know the destruction that temptation can bring.  Those who have clung to their professions and their money rather than clinging to their families know the destruction that temptation can bring. 

Need I go on?  You know what temptation is.  You know how destructive it can be.  You know that evil lurks behind temptation like a fisherman behind a lure.

Is it surprising to learn that Jesus too knows temptation very well? 

As the Bible tells the story, not more than minutes after God declared him as God “Son, the Beloved,” Jesus was driven by the Spirit out into the wilderness. 

The wilderness, a place of complete exposure amongst the barren rocks and scrub, with little place to hide, and a place of very real mortal danger where wild animals roam and hunt, is where Satan tempted Jesus. 

The Greek word for “tempted” here can also be translated as “tested.”  When I read this story I try to consider both “tempted” (the times we are lured away from what is right) and “tested” (the times when life does not go as we had hoped and we suffer).  In my experience, both the times of trial and the times of temptation can lead us far away from the two most important things: love of God and love of neighbor.

According to the Bible, those are the two most important things in life.  Take a look at chapter 12 of Mark’s gospel, where, incidentally, Jesus is tested again, this time by some Pharisees and by some Sadducees (religious leaders of the time). In this instance, Jesus is asked “Which commandment is the first of all?”  And, Jesus replied, “’Hear, O Israel: the Lord our God, the Lord is one; you shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind, and with all your strength.’  The second is this, ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself.’  There is no other commandment greater than these.”

Now, since those are the greatest commandments, those will obviously be, the primary targets in times of temptation and testing.  It is absolutely true that when we give into temptation, we abandon our care for others, causing them harm.  And, it is absolutely true that when our lives are tested to a breaking point, we are tempted to abandon our trust in God.

In short, you could say that our greatest temptations in life are the exact opposite of loving God and others.  We are tempted to abandon God and abandon others.

Maybe, some day we should have an entire worship service devoted to confessing all of the times that we have abandoned God and abandoned others.  Our confessions would range from driving past the guy stuck on the side of the road, to not actually listening to the brown skinned woman when she said she was being discriminated against.  Our confessions would range from times that we abandoned God’s way of love and did not do anything for the person down on their luck, to the time that we were down on our luck and could not find any hope for the future, so we gave up on God.

We should have a service of confession like that one of these days, but today we are not here to talk about us and our failures. That is not what this scripture is about. 

Rather, we are here to give praise to the one who overcomes when we cannot.  We praise Jesus Christ our savior.  We are here to give praise to the one who chooses to bring us healing even when we shout out like the doubting father with an ailing son in Mark chapter 9, “…help my unbelief.”  We praise Jesus Christ our healer.  We are here to give praise to the one who sat in the wilderness with the wild beasts as it says in Mark 1:13, and trusted in God to provide.

If the story of Jesus being with the wild beasts after being tested by Satan makes you think of that childhood story of Daniel in the lion’s den, it should. The Bible is intentional about that.

Remember, in that story, Daniel is tempted to pray to the king rather than God by a royal edict.  Daniel chooses to pray to God.  For breaking the law, Daniel is thrown into the lion’s den.  However, God sends some angels who shut the mouths of the lions and see Daniel through to the morning. 

We see this same dynamic going on in Mark’s short, one sentence story: “[Jesus] was in the wilderness forty days, tempted by Satan; and he was with the wild beasts; and the angels waited on him.” 

Jesus had the same sort of devotion to God the Father as Daniel had in his own time.  Jesus does not abandon God while being tempted and tested, even with the wild beasts lingering and threatening.  God the Father provides angels to attend to Jesus just as God had to Daniel when in the lion’s den.  And, that utter trust in God’s vision and God’s provision is the foundation for Jesus’ ministry from there on out as he proclaimed the good news of God, and ministered to the people of God.

Do not let that last bit fly over your head, because it is the what the rest of the gospel of Mark is about.  Jesus’ refusal to abandon God leads him to live a life where he is utterly free to love as God loves.  Jesus’ refusal to abandon God leads to Jesus’ refusal to abandon us.  It leads him all the way to the cross, refusing to abandon his love for us the whole way.  It leads him to a life of ultimate love, where temptation can never win and death can never have the last word.

And, that is the sort of freedom in which Jesus invites you to be a part.  It is a freedom in which you are able to love with abandon.  After-all, it is not a burden to love others.  Loving others is freedom. 

Temptation to ignore God and others is what burdens and blackens our souls.  Trials endured without hope are what throw us to the ground and hold us there. 

But, trusting in the love of Jesus Christ who walked out of the wilderness of temptation and testing is what sets us free.  We are free to follow the beloved of God.  Jesus will never abandon God and Jesus does not abandon neighbor. 

We have been set free by Jesus Christ from temptation and testing to live in the love of the kingdom of God.

Reflection on Matthew 6:1-6, 16-21

 

You are dust, nothing more, but also nothing less.

Ash Wednesday starts the 40 days of Lent in which we reorient our lives toward God.  The start of that reorientation is admitting that we need to reorient ourselves in the first place. 

For example, some people give greatly to their neighbors and their communities with money and volunteering, and that is wonderful.  However, at the same time, some of these people feel the need to have great recognition for their efforts. 

Exaggerating the point, Jesus says they “sound a trumpet” in the presence of the community “so that they may be praised by others.”  It is an exaggeration, but you get the point.  If you require recognition for your goodness, then you may need to reorient yourself. 

If you have ever said, “I don’t need to be thanked or anything, that’s not why I do it but…” stop right there.  That “but” before you continue to say that a “thank you would be nice” or some other follow-up condition of your goodness is the clue that your life of faith probably needs reorientation.  Somehow, in some way, it has become about you rather than about the unconditional love that we share with one another in the body of Jesus Christ.

In similar ways, Jesus tells you to beware of your motivations for praying and fasting.  These are ways to connect with our heavenly Father, but if they somehow become something more than that, such as proving to others that you are a religious person, or shaming them that they are not, then your life of faith probably needs reorientation. 

You want to know how great you are?  The Bible says that you are dust.  You were formed out of the dust of the earth, and in the end you fall back into the dust of the earth.  You will rust away, and break, and be stolen away in the end just like all of your possessions.

You are dust, nothing more, but also nothing less.

I was once walking along a creek bed with a friend when she suddenly stopped at the edge of the creek bed and said, “That is beautiful.”  I thought she was talking about the flowers, but she was not.  She was talking about the dirt on the edge of the creek. 

“That will make some beautiful clay!” 

She then took a handful of the dirt, added some water from the creek, and started to shape and mold it.  Suddenly, I had lost my friend to the imaginings of her creative mind as she worked the clay into a beautiful form. 

When I say that “you are dust, nothing more, but also nothing less,” I think of her and her clay.  It reminds me that though we may be dust, we are God’s dust.  In the same way as my friend, Genesis 2:7 says that “the Lord God formed the man of dust from the ground and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life, and the man became a living creature.” 

That molding and shaping and breathing means something.  This means that, though you are dust, you are also a work of art.  God intended you to be.  God shaped and molded every vein and muscle.  God shaped every finger and toe.

In Psalm 139, the psalmist cries out, “You formed my inward parts; you knitted me together in my mother’s womb. I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made.  Wonderful are your works.”

You were intended to be.  You were beautifully made, and you were made for a purpose. 

If you have no idea what that purpose is, look at Jesus Christ, God’s son.  Look at Jesus’ love of the sinner.  Look at Jesus’ love for those who are broken, in need of healing, and yearning to be free from all that holds them down.  Look at Jesus’ love on the cross.  Jesus’ life was the opposite of seeking praise.  The cross meant ultimate humiliation, weakness, and death.  But, it was done for a purpose: to set us free.  It was done for the purpose of love.

You are dust; nothing more, but also nothing less.  You are God’s dust.  You have been shaped and molded by the love of God into at beautiful creation.  And, you have been shaped and molded for a reason…for a purpose.  You have been beautifully shaped into a vessel that carries Jesus’ unconditional, self-sacrificial love. 

So, take the time this Lent to repent of and let go of anything that holds you back from being this beautifully created vessel of Jesus’ love.  Allow yourself to be reshaped and remolded into the creation God made you to be. 

After-all, you are dust; nothing more, but also nothing less.  You are God’s beautifully and wonderfully shaped dust.

Reflection on Mark 9:2-9

 

When my son Isaac was two, he climbed up a mound of cinders left over from the winter.  The mound only had an elevation of about two feet; but when he got to the top he said, “Wooooow! I’m really high!” 

The kid was not even standing taller than my waist, but to him this vantage point was completely amazing to him.  He was about twice his height.  To Isaac, the cinder pile was a mountain, and it gave him a new perspective.

Mountains have a way of doing that.  They have a way of naturally resetting our minds.  Sometimes it is for just a brief moment as you pause to take in the beautiful sight, but other times the experience is life-changing. 

Consider that in Exodus 20 the 10 commandments, the laws that were to shape the people of God from there on out, were given on the top of a mountain.  On a mountain, God provided a new perspective on how life should be lived in peace with one another.  Mountains have a way of doing that. 

In addition, just when the people of God seemed to be at an end, with Elijah remaining the last prophet of God on earth, God speaks to Elijah on a mountain with a “still, small voice.”  Another way to say it is that God speaks to Elijah in the “silence.”  This holy word on the mountain gives Elijah a new perspective and provides all Elijah needs to head back into a hostile world, continuing God’s ministry.  Mountains have a way of doing that.

The first time that I topped a mountain I was struck, not only by the sight, it was an amazing sight with signs of life below barely visible to the naked eye, but I was also struck by the quiet.  Apart from a little wind blowing across my ears, it was so very silent up on the very top of the mountain.  No sounds of cars.  No rustling of the trees (we had climbed above timber line).  No people talking on phones.  There was simply no sound.

That silence, the same silence that Elijah experienced on top of the mountain of God, leaves you free to hearing the only thing that there is to hear: the voice of God.

Have you ever considered that you might be trapped in a cacophony of sound?  Have you ever considered that the voice of God is getting drowned out by the traffic of trucks and the endless voices telling you who you are and who you should be, and the political pundits tugging you one way and then another, and the shouting from the house next door, and the advertisements luring you in, and the various ideals and worries and deal makings within your own head?  Have you ever considered taking a break from it all just so that you can experience some silence

…so that you can hear the voice of God

…and be set free from all of the noise.

Because, sisters and brothers in Christ, if you were given a chance to take a break and live in the silence, I guarantee that you would finally be able to hear the voice of God.  And maybe, God would say to you, “This is my Son, the Beloved; listen to him!” 

“Listen to him.” 

You do not have to be held hostage to the noise.  Could it be that freedom is found in ignoring all of the noise and listening to the one voice that matters above all else: Jesus Christ our savior.

You see, beyond the mountain stories of Moses and Elijah, the Bible tells us a third mountain story where Jesus takes Peter, James, and John up to the top of a mountain in order to hear the voice of God. 

They need to hear the voice of God; Peter in particular.  You see, the gospel of Mark tells us that Peter has a problem.  He cannot accept the serving nature of the ministry that Jesus is being given by God.  Jesus lets the disciples know that he must, as the Bible reads, “undergo great suffering, and be rejected by the elders, the chief priests, and the scribes, and be killed, and after three days rise again.” 

This is an earth-shattering revelation.  After-all, power shown through strength, is it not?  The winners are those who struggle the hardest and prevail, are they not?  Those who come out on top get to the top because they are first and best of all, are they not? 

Peter cannot possibly understand how suffering could possibly lead to life and freedom.  In Mark, chapter 8, Peter rebukes Jesus for even implying that winning involves losing, and Jesus, in turn, takes Peter on a hike up a mountain for a new perspective.

While on the mountain, the Bible tells us that Peter experiences the sight of a shining Jesus underneath his very human exterior.  Peter sees Jesus in white clothes “such as no one on earth could bleach them,” and he witnesses Jesus standing with the other two biblical mountaintop greats: Moses and Elijah.

And, that is when the crack in Peter’s assuredness starts to form.  That is when Peter begins to be open to hearing something new.  That is when Peter starts to be open to the possibility that he might have it all wrong and that he might need to listen. 

“Rabbi, it is good for us to be here; let us make three ‘tabernacles,’ one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah,” Peter suggests.  The Bible says that Peter did not know what to say amidst all of the commotion, but he had an idea of what to do.  Jews construct tabernacles during the annual feast of tabernacles to both celebrate the harvest, and to also sleep in their makeshift tent while listening for God.  Peter does not know what to say, but he does know what to do.

Have you ever been there?  Have the world’s voices and the worrying voices of your mind ever become so overwhelming that you do not know what is up or down? 

Like Peter, what you do know is that in times like that the only way to make a move forward will be to have some silence and to listen for another perspective.

Just yesterday a friend posted on social media, “I need to take a break from all of this chaos and just focus on God.” 

And, if we were to join him and actually do that, if we were to leave the noise and opinions and convictions of the world and listen what God has to say, we just might hear God’s message to Peter, “This is my Son, the Beloved; listen to him!” 

“Listen to him.”

My friend decided that for Lent he was giving up the opinions and drama of social media so that he would have the silence required to listen to Jesus…to actually listen to the words of Jesus in the Bible rather than the other voices in the world.  He is literally going to be reading the sayings of Jesus and then journaling about them. 

This is such a great idea, though I would probably write songs based on the words of Jesus.  I have always hated journaling and writing songs is more my thing.  My wife would probably paint. 

It does not matter how it is done because the point is that freedom, true freedom in life, means listening to the one who created you, teaches you, died for you, and rose again all for your sake. 

In the same way that the life of the Israelites was shaped by the commandments given on the mountain as a gift of peace to the community of God, the lives of those who listen to Jesus are shaped by the voice of the one who loves his people to the end, suffers for them all the way to the cross, and rises with them on the third day. 

Somewhere in there, somewhere in the love filled voice of Jesus we will hear that we have been given the gift of life. 

“Listen to him.”

In the next few weeks, I invite you to find true freedom.  Find freedom on the mountain.  Find freedom in a new perspective.  Find freedom in the silence.  Find the freedom that is found by ignoring all the other voices in the world and ignoring the conflicting voices in your mind, and listen to the voice of Jesus Christ our Lord. 

Listening to Jesus is truly a gift of freedom from God.

Reflection on Mark 1:29-39

 

“Run down the hill pulling the sled with your children,” they said. 

“It will be fun,” they said. 

“It will be lots of laughs,” they said. 

What they did not say was that men in their 40s who fall flat on their backs when pulling children over ice on a sled will not be fun.  There were lots of laughs all right, but I was not doing the laughing.

For weeks afterward my back felt like someone tried to ram a steel rod down the center of my spine, and forgot to give me pain medication afterward.  I was in pain.  If I was standing, I had to stand completely straight, or the pain would literally make my chest incapable of expanding and breathing.  It was similar when I was lying down.  I had to be completely straight to get any relief.  And, sitting?  There was no sitting.  Sitting was out of the question.  You cannot sit when it feels like a steel pole is jammed straight through your body. 

I do not know if you realize this, but pastors sit a lot.  We sit for meetings.  We sit for Bible studies.  We sit to read and write.  We sit to have cookies and talk with people.  You get the idea, pastors sit a lot. 

So, when the time arrived to visit someone in their home, I panicked because I needed to figure out: first, how to drive (it looks weird for someone to be driving with chin down and chest in the air trying to keep their back straight, believe me), but, second, I needed to navigate the whole sitting a talking thing.

There are probably only a handful of people in the world who expect their pastor to lie in the middle of the floor on his back while having coffee and cookies.  And, when the person being visited is confined to the bedroom and the back-pained pastor, for obvious reasons, cannot sit at the foot of the bed, I cannot imagine too many people feeling comfortable with their pastor requesting, “Can I please lie next to you while you share your deepest secrets?” 

That is a lawyer’s dream right there. 

“Just stand,” you say?  Well, you have not visited too many grandmas with cookies and coffee have you?

What I am trying to get you to understand, in a trivial manner here, is that the freedom to be the person that God has created you to be often gets blocked by illness or disease.  Ask anyone who has had to quarantine recently how much “goodness” they were able to get done in those two weeks?  Or just open up your Bibles to Mark 1:30 and ask Simon’s mother-in-law.

The Bible says that Simon’s mother-in-law “was in bed with a fever, and [the disciples] told [Jesus] about her at once.” 

Now, we do not get very far into the story before we need to stop and dig a little deeper, because it probably will not occur to us in the first reading that the mother-in-law’s condition is dire. 

Consider this: Aspirin was not invented until 1897 by Felix Hoffman, a German chemist who worked for Bayer.  Previous to this, the only way to get a bad fever to go down was to submerge a person in ice cold water.  But, the home refrigerator was not invested until 1913.  And, how much snow can you find in the deserts of the Middle East? 

You see where I am going with this.  We do not think too much about fevers today, but back then this was serious stuff.  A high fever would put you at risk for dehydration, and, if your body temperature rose to 108 or beyond, brain damage and death could occur. Simon’s mother-in-law had a fever that struck fear in the hearts of those who knew her and loved her.

But the most fascinating thing about this story is what the Bible says after the woman was healed. 

Oh, by the way, Jesus healed the woman in the time span of a sentence and a half.  Yay, Jesus!  The Bible says, “He came and took her by the hand and lifted her up.  Then the fever left her…” 

Anyway, what I was going to tell you was that we read this fascinating thing after Simon’s mother-in-law was healed: it says she was at last able to “serve them.” 

Please read this much deeper than, “Great, now Mom can finally go in the kitchen and get me my coffee.  Three creams please!  And, a Biscotti!  And, some bacon.”  Mmmmm…bacon.  Who here is hungry?  I got distracted, back to serving!

The word for “serve” here in the Greek is διηκόνει.  In the church, the words for deacon and deaconess come from the root of this word.  Now, these are holy callings in the church where regular people like you, commit to being servants of Jesus Christ in daily life.  Deacons and deaconesses commit to loving who Jesus loved and serving as Jesus served; sometimes in the church, but more often in healing ministries, ministries to the poor, ministries of teaching the faith to children and adults, ministries to refugees, and ministries to prisoners. 

What the Bible is trying to tell you clearly is that Jesus did not cure Simon’s mother-in-law so that she could finally fulfill her lifelong dream of serving her children coffee. Rather Jesus restored Peter’s mother-in-law so that she could follow her holy calling in life.  Jesus restored her, so that she could be a disciple.

One of my friends earlier in life had a mother who devoted her life to hospitality.  Her home was always kept immaculate because the greatest joy of her life was to have people over and host them with fine food, drink, and conversation.  She would treat new people in the community like kings and queens and would offer the same royal treatment to rich and poor alike. 

Even us teens benefitted from her royal treatment of great food.  Now, who does that?  So many people complain about the kids these days rather than serving them and loving them.  But, she ministered to all, no matter the age. 

You see, God had created her to make people feel loved and welcomed.  So, it was all the more tragic when a muscle disease made it so that she could no longer stand and cook and clean.  Her only desire was to serve in this hospitable way.  After the disease, she could not.  She wanted more than anything to be free to serve.

She understood deeply Jesus’ personal conviction and Jesus’ expectation of us in Mark 10:45, “that the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many."  She understood that life is about love, and love is about serving others.

Sometimes, freedom in Christ means leaving something behind, even something you love, and following where Christ leads.  Sometimes, freedom in Christ means being set free from our demons; set free from the insidious voices in our heads that tell us we are not good enough.  And, this morning, we see that sometimes freedom in Christ means being healed to serve. 

Jesus Christ has the power to set your free from the illnesses and diseases that keep you from being the person that God has created you to be.  And, I have absolutely seen the freedom that comes from healing in people’s lives.  My back was healed for one.  Simon’s mother-in-law was given another chance to serve.  I have also seen a ton of people suffering from depression stand tall and serve others once again.  I have seen it happen. 

But this too is true: my friend’s mother never got better.  Not everyone gets a cure.

The Bible seems to acknowledge that.  After Simon’s mother-in-law was healed, Jesus continued to heal people into the evening at the door of Simon’s house.  The whole town gathered in the cramped streets of the ancient village to be a part of his healing ministry.  The next day, the Bible tells us that Jesus went away from the commotion to pray…to get some alone time…and the disciples hunted him down because the people were apparently looking for more.  Instead of going back and healing even more people Jesus says, “Let us go on to the neighboring towns, so that I may proclaim the message there also; for that is what I came out to do.”

In other words, there are people who do not get cured.  Jesus did not always stick around long enough.  Rather, Jesus seems to be more interested in proclaiming the saving news, of God.  Not everyone gets a cure, but Jesus hopes that everyone hears the saving news of God.  Can we just stop and sit with that for a moment? 

We often cry out in grief, “Jesus, why didn’t you cure my loved one!”  It seems that Jesus might say in return, “I never promised that I would.”

Are we missing something here?  Whenever I get to one of these points in my life of faith, where I do not understand…where I seem to be missing something, I return to God’s word and look even closer.  And, when I look closer if often find that I am right, I have missed something. 

And, we definitely missed something in this story.  We glanced right over the top of it and did not give it a second thought.  Here it is: when Simon’s mother-in-law is healed, the New Revised Standard Version of the Bible says that Jesus “lifted her up.”  But, that is such a poor choice of words; it should read that Jesus “raised her up.” 

She was “raised.” 

Being “arisen” is what the preacher in the gospel of Mark is trying to get us to latch onto. 

Does the word “raised” make you think of the cross and the grave, because it should?  Does this word make you think of Jesus coming out of the grave to do more and teach more and be more through the power of the Holy Spirit, because it should? 

Jesus heals the woman so that she too can be raised to do more and teach more and be more.  She is raised to be the person that God has created her to be, a disciple of love and service.  And, though the mother-in-law was “cured” in order to be healed and in order to serve Jesus, you do not have to be cured in order to be healed. 

Let me say that again.  You do not have to be cured in order to be healed.

You do not need to have a cure in order to be restored to being a disciple of Jesus Christ.  If healing in the Bible means that you have a restored relationship with God and neighbor (which it does), then Jesus does not have to provide a cure for that to happen.  You just need to be raised up! 

Listen, I know plenty of people with disabilities who are making a bigger difference in this world than I.  They have not been cured, but they most certainly have been healed.  They have been raised up! 

My friend’s mother was no longer able to be the hostess of her former life, but that did not keep her down.  Jesus raised her from a lost, depressed state and led her into a new ministry of connection.  She made calls, and listened to cries, and arranged for others to gather with her, to gather with God, and to gather with their neighbors.  She was not cured, but she most certainly was healed.  She was raised up! 

And you, sisters and brothers in Christ, may have had a cure at one time or another.  If you have, that is great.  Praise be to Jesus!  

But, do not be mistaken, Jesus does not promise a cure.  Jesus does promise, however, that you will be raised up.  You will be healed from all that is holding you back from being the person that God has created you to be.  You will be raised up to a new life and a new purpose and a new calling for as long as you are granted life here on this good earth.  And, that is where, sisters and brother in Christ, true healing is found. 

That healing will raise you up so that you will again be a disciple who follows Jesus’ saving news, the news he so dearly desires you to hear; the news of a divine love that rescues, and saves, and, yes, even heals. 

You have been raised up until that day when you will gather with the choir in heaven and sing:

“I’m so glad, Jesus lifted me!

I’m so glad, Jesus lifted me!

I’m so glad, Jesus lifted me!

Singing ‘Glory, Alleluia, Jesus lifted me.”