We've seen it emerge already as a theme throughout the gospel of Mark: what is the Sabbath? The discussion, and indeed the confrontation over what the Sabbath was and is comes to a head in this episode involving Jesus, the Pharisees and Herodians, and a man with a withered hand. Parallel to the development of the conversation over Sabbath-keeping is the marshaling together of Jesus' opponents. His adversaries started out as merely scribes (2:6), and their resistance was passive and implicit. Before long we get a clearer picture of the opposition, as the scribes are identified as scribes of the Pharisees (2:16). By the end of Mark 2 we see the Pharisees themselves enter into the discussion (2:24), and now by the beginning of Mark 3 we see that a formidable alliance of Pharisees and Herodians (3:6) has taken an active role in opposing Jesus and his ministry.
I mention all of this to demonstrate that the Pharisees and Herodians were not objective judges when it comes to evaluating Jesus and his actions. The word used in verse 2 is actually "observe", and it is the same word that would be used to describe a physician making a medical diagnosis, or interestingly enough, to describe someone taking part in a religious observance. Given that all of this takes place in the synagogue, I think it is fair to say that the Pharisees and Herodians true religion has ceased to be the worship of Yahweh, and has become the judgment of those around them. At some point, all of us have been guilty of judging a person's actions not based on their merit, but based on our opinion of that person. Such attitudes blinded the Pharisees and the Herodians to the Messiah standing in their midst, and more than likely they blind us to the God-given worth of the person whose actions we pre-judge.
As readers of the gospel, we have seen enough of Jesus' character to suspect that he is about to do something about the condition of this man with the withered hand. Our suspicions are confirmed when he tells the man to "stand up", or more literally "rise up", a word that is used not only to refer to the physical action of standing or rising, but is also used to refer to and describe the resurrection itself. Jesus is about to reveal the true power of the Sabbath in a way that no one could imagine. This man who would have been barred from Temple worship (see Leviticus 21:16ff), is about to be made whole again through the power of Christ. Sensing their silent judgment, Jesus even gives the Pharisees and chance to weigh in on the matter. "Is it lawful on the Sabbath to do good or to do harm, to save life or to kill?" He asks them this question knowing that as much as they revere the Sabbath, they have deemed certain actions in the past as being acceptable, perhaps the most prominent of the "exceptions" being the Maccabees self-defense on the Sabbath (see I Maccabees 2:41, a non-canonical book that fills in many of the historical gaps from the inter-testimental period). It is true that the Maccabees were the liberators of Israel, and that they were acting in self-defense, but nonetheless they worked (fought a battle) and killed on the Sabbath. Jesus point becomes all the more obvious: if exceptions can be made for killing, how can exceptions not be made for healing? The power of Jesus argument, and it's irrefutable nature are demonstrated in the silence of his opponents.
In the end, the tragedy is that the Pharisees and Herodians view of the Sabbath, and their prejudice against Jesus, caused them to miss what should have been obvious, especially to those learned in the law. As Jesus healed the withered hand of the man, they should have seen before their eyes the actual fulfilled of Isaiah 35:
"The wilderness and the dry land shall be glad; the desert shall rejoice and blossom like the crocus; it shall blossom abundantly and rejoice with joy and singing. The glory of Lebanon shall be given to it, the majesty of Carmel and Sharon. They shall see the glory of the Lord, the majesty of our God. Strengthen the weak hands, and make firm the feeble knees. Sat to those who have an anxious heart, 'be strong, fear not! Behold, your God will come in vengeance, with the recompense of God. He will come and save you." (Isaiah 35:1-4, italics mine)
The Pharisees and the Herodians, the religious leaders of the day, could have used their energy to speak courage into the anxious heart. Instead, they condemn themselves, ironically enough, by plotting to take a life on the Sabbath. How absurd their judgment of Jesus' healing actions looks when viewed against the backdrop of their own destructive scheming on the Sabbath. Thankfully, Jesus plans are not thwarted by judgmental attitudes, whether they belong to the Pharisees, the Herodians, or ourselves. You see, Jesus did much more than heal on the Sabbath, he healed the Sabbath. He restored our vision so that we can see what Sabbath truly is; not a ceasing from all work, but an entering into the rest of God.
Tuesday, September 27, 2011
Wednesday, September 21, 2011
Mark 2:18-28: fasting and feasting
A lot of my friends have gotten married recently, which I guess is a sign that I am at that point in life where an incurable case of adulthood is setting in. At first, when Jesus used wedding imagery to explain the concept of fasting, I was more than a little confused. And yet, having seen so many of my friends and their fiances prepare for weddings, I think I understand now the point that Jesus was trying to make. In essence, fasting is a means to an end. If you know a girl who is engaged, then you probably know a girl on a diet. I have heard it referred to as the wedding dress diet, among other things. The months leading up to the wedding are spent in physical preparation. More than likely, the bride has bought a dress that is a little too small, so that every time she sees that several hundred (or more than likely several thousand) dollars hanging there in her closet, she will find renewed motivation to lose a few pounds. She wants to look her very best for that special day. If, on the day of her wedding, that bride refused to eat or drink anything at the reception, people would think she was crazy. She did all that dieting BEFORE the wedding so that she could look her best, and fully enjoy the wedding itself. The wedding is a distinctly different context than the time leading up to the wedding. The scribes who challenge Jesus and his disciples regarding their fasting practices are making a category mistake, they have failed to recognize that the wedding day has indeed arrived. When we understand the discussion about fasting in this light, Jesus' comments about the patch and the wineskins make a lot more sense. Jesus has brought something new into the world. Just as we wouldn't mix old and new fabric, or put new wine into old wineskins, neither should we try to interpret Jesus actions through old categories and try to force Him to conform to the "old" way of doing things. Jesus has begun something new on the earth, and our ability to recognize that will ultimately determine whether we are able to truly embrace this new work of God among us.
It is a quick, and yet appropriate transition to go from the topic of fasting to the topic of feasting. The Pharisees go from questioning Jesus and his disciples about their fasting methods, to questioning them about how they eat. Perhaps the Pharisees call to mind certain religious people you have met, whose primary religious experience seems to be to critique the religious experience of others. The tragic irony of the Pharisees is that they were so tied up in the knowledge and keeping of their own law, that they failed to know their own story. As Jesus points out to them, his disciples are not the first men to "break the rules" in order to satisfy their hunger. David and his men did far more than pluck some grain on the Sabbath, they actually ate the Bread of Presence reserved only for the priest! If God was willing to let something like that slide, do you really think he is concerned about a few heads of grain being plucked on the Sabbath? Again, the Pharisees have made a critical error in assessing the situation. Earlier they tried to use old categories to interpret this new thing that Jesus was bringing about in His ministry. Here, they forget the simple fact that the rules were not made to enslave humankind, but rather to liberate it. The rules were given to us so that we would know how to interact with each other, and with God. It reminds me of an incident that happened at Clemson University a few years ago. One of the football players came from a very bad home where his mother was addicted to drugs. After he left to go to school, things destabilized even further and he decided that it was unsafe for his younger brother to stay in that environment any longer. He brought him up to Clemson to live with him, but ran into a problem. NCAA rules prohibited him from getting a job to support his brother, and he was forbidden from receiving any aid from those in the Clemson community. To receive aid, whether it was canned goods, some cash to buy groceries, or even some used clothes, would be seen as an improper benefit. Thankfully ESPN got word of the situation, and ran a story that in essence shamed the NCAA into making an exception to the rules in the instance of this young man. The rules had been created for a good reason; to protect student athletes and to ensure fair competition. However, in being so rigid and legalistic the NCAA was actually using the rules to harm this football player and his brother. It begs the question, how do we use the rules? Do we see them as a blessing and a means of protecting ourselves and others, or do we wield them as a weapon with which to judge and harm others? How we answer will determine whether we look more like Jesus, or one of his opponents.
It is a quick, and yet appropriate transition to go from the topic of fasting to the topic of feasting. The Pharisees go from questioning Jesus and his disciples about their fasting methods, to questioning them about how they eat. Perhaps the Pharisees call to mind certain religious people you have met, whose primary religious experience seems to be to critique the religious experience of others. The tragic irony of the Pharisees is that they were so tied up in the knowledge and keeping of their own law, that they failed to know their own story. As Jesus points out to them, his disciples are not the first men to "break the rules" in order to satisfy their hunger. David and his men did far more than pluck some grain on the Sabbath, they actually ate the Bread of Presence reserved only for the priest! If God was willing to let something like that slide, do you really think he is concerned about a few heads of grain being plucked on the Sabbath? Again, the Pharisees have made a critical error in assessing the situation. Earlier they tried to use old categories to interpret this new thing that Jesus was bringing about in His ministry. Here, they forget the simple fact that the rules were not made to enslave humankind, but rather to liberate it. The rules were given to us so that we would know how to interact with each other, and with God. It reminds me of an incident that happened at Clemson University a few years ago. One of the football players came from a very bad home where his mother was addicted to drugs. After he left to go to school, things destabilized even further and he decided that it was unsafe for his younger brother to stay in that environment any longer. He brought him up to Clemson to live with him, but ran into a problem. NCAA rules prohibited him from getting a job to support his brother, and he was forbidden from receiving any aid from those in the Clemson community. To receive aid, whether it was canned goods, some cash to buy groceries, or even some used clothes, would be seen as an improper benefit. Thankfully ESPN got word of the situation, and ran a story that in essence shamed the NCAA into making an exception to the rules in the instance of this young man. The rules had been created for a good reason; to protect student athletes and to ensure fair competition. However, in being so rigid and legalistic the NCAA was actually using the rules to harm this football player and his brother. It begs the question, how do we use the rules? Do we see them as a blessing and a means of protecting ourselves and others, or do we wield them as a weapon with which to judge and harm others? How we answer will determine whether we look more like Jesus, or one of his opponents.
Wednesday, September 14, 2011
Mark 2:13-17: Tax-collecters and sinners, is there really any difference?
One of the most difficult things for us as Christians to do is to reach out to people we don't like. One of the easiest ways to escape this uncomfortable chore is to label them immediately as a sinner, and thus avoid contact with them on "righteous" grounds. We even go to scripture to back up our hesitency to associate with such seedy individuals, after all, "bad company corrupts good morals."
While that may be true, we often rush to judgment on whether the company we are trying so desparately to escape is good or bad. Truth be told, if we turned the standards we use on others around and use them to perform a little self-evaluation, then we most likely would find that we shouldn't even be associating with ourselves!!
This is the reality behind these few verses from the gospel of Mark, which are centered on a tax-collecter named Levi. The society around him insisted on lumping Levi in with sinners, even though his activity wasn't illegal or sinful. Their disdain for him was motivated by their own nationalistic ideology, or more simply put their politics. Some will say that as a tax-collecter Levi was almost certainly over-charging, but I would suggest that to assume such things is to read more into the gospel than is actually there.
The real lesson to be learned is that sometimes our reasons for not liking someone have nothing to do with religion, morality, or righteousness, and that to our horror we sometimes discover that on the contrary, the people we dislike so strongly actually turn out to be people of faith and conviction. Can you imagine the reaction of Peter, Andrew, James, and John when Jesus says to Levi: "follow me!"? I think they probably reacted in one of two ways. The first way is skepticism: "Sure Jesus, you go ahead and ask that tax-collecter to follow you. There is about as much chance of that happening as there is of the pigs we can't eat sprouting wings and flying off!" The other would be one of shock: "You want to ask who to follow you? Levi?!?! That guy constantly has his hand in our pockets, and I suspect that it always takes out more than it should!" Peter might have been especially exasperated. I can imagine what may have been going through his head: "First he heals my mother-in-law who does nothing but nag me, and now he wants me to pal around with this guy from the IRS. This discipleship thing is not how I thought it would be!"
How do you think they responded when, to both their amazement and their horror, Levi got up and fell in with the other disciples, leaving his tax-collecting booth behind? Do you think it caused them to re-evaluate their previous opinions of him? As Jesus procedes to Levi's house, and enjoys a meal with both tax-collecters and sinners, do you think the disciples were perhaps a bit uneasy? We know that the Pharisees were, because they brought the issue up. And yet, all Jesus was doing was hanging out with those who were willing to hang out with Him. I think it's a powerful illustration that anyone; and I mean anyone, even "tax-collecters and sinners", can come into the presence of Jesus. In fact, ultimately we will be judged by our willingness, and even our eagerness to do just that. We can stand aloof insisting that everything is fine, in which case Jesus can do nothing for us. OR, we can do the scary thing, the thing that takes faith, and admit that there is much in our lives that needs to change. We can't heal illness by denying that it is present, nor can we deal with our own sinful nature by pretending to be righteous.
The real question, I believe, is not "what does this mean for me?" That question is important, but I think the real elephant in the room, the question that no one wants to ask is, "what does this mean for our churches?" Barring the doors of our churches to the sinner, or more specifically to the sinner who struggles with a sin different than the one I struggle with, is like a hospital refusing to accept the injured, on the basis that mending their wound would get blood all over the floor. We would never close the doors of our hospitals out of fear of the sick, after all, where would people go to get well? Why then, do we have a tendency to slam the doors of our churches in the face of sinners? Without Jesus what hope do they, or better yet what hope we do, have of being made well?
While that may be true, we often rush to judgment on whether the company we are trying so desparately to escape is good or bad. Truth be told, if we turned the standards we use on others around and use them to perform a little self-evaluation, then we most likely would find that we shouldn't even be associating with ourselves!!
This is the reality behind these few verses from the gospel of Mark, which are centered on a tax-collecter named Levi. The society around him insisted on lumping Levi in with sinners, even though his activity wasn't illegal or sinful. Their disdain for him was motivated by their own nationalistic ideology, or more simply put their politics. Some will say that as a tax-collecter Levi was almost certainly over-charging, but I would suggest that to assume such things is to read more into the gospel than is actually there.
The real lesson to be learned is that sometimes our reasons for not liking someone have nothing to do with religion, morality, or righteousness, and that to our horror we sometimes discover that on the contrary, the people we dislike so strongly actually turn out to be people of faith and conviction. Can you imagine the reaction of Peter, Andrew, James, and John when Jesus says to Levi: "follow me!"? I think they probably reacted in one of two ways. The first way is skepticism: "Sure Jesus, you go ahead and ask that tax-collecter to follow you. There is about as much chance of that happening as there is of the pigs we can't eat sprouting wings and flying off!" The other would be one of shock: "You want to ask who to follow you? Levi?!?! That guy constantly has his hand in our pockets, and I suspect that it always takes out more than it should!" Peter might have been especially exasperated. I can imagine what may have been going through his head: "First he heals my mother-in-law who does nothing but nag me, and now he wants me to pal around with this guy from the IRS. This discipleship thing is not how I thought it would be!"
How do you think they responded when, to both their amazement and their horror, Levi got up and fell in with the other disciples, leaving his tax-collecting booth behind? Do you think it caused them to re-evaluate their previous opinions of him? As Jesus procedes to Levi's house, and enjoys a meal with both tax-collecters and sinners, do you think the disciples were perhaps a bit uneasy? We know that the Pharisees were, because they brought the issue up. And yet, all Jesus was doing was hanging out with those who were willing to hang out with Him. I think it's a powerful illustration that anyone; and I mean anyone, even "tax-collecters and sinners", can come into the presence of Jesus. In fact, ultimately we will be judged by our willingness, and even our eagerness to do just that. We can stand aloof insisting that everything is fine, in which case Jesus can do nothing for us. OR, we can do the scary thing, the thing that takes faith, and admit that there is much in our lives that needs to change. We can't heal illness by denying that it is present, nor can we deal with our own sinful nature by pretending to be righteous.
The real question, I believe, is not "what does this mean for me?" That question is important, but I think the real elephant in the room, the question that no one wants to ask is, "what does this mean for our churches?" Barring the doors of our churches to the sinner, or more specifically to the sinner who struggles with a sin different than the one I struggle with, is like a hospital refusing to accept the injured, on the basis that mending their wound would get blood all over the floor. We would never close the doors of our hospitals out of fear of the sick, after all, where would people go to get well? Why then, do we have a tendency to slam the doors of our churches in the face of sinners? Without Jesus what hope do they, or better yet what hope we do, have of being made well?
Friday, September 9, 2011
Mark 2:1-12: Which is easier??
Sometimes miracles arn't as impressive as they seem. On the other hand, sometimes that which doesn't appear impressive at first, upon further consideration, is revealed to be nothing short of miraculous.
Such is the case with Jesus' healing of the paralytic. Much has been said, rightfully so, of the paralytic's friends and their willingness to carry him to Jesus. Similarly, a lot of attention has been given to Jesus' healing of the paralytic. Again, it's hard to argue against the significance of such an event.
And yet, sometimes we get so caught up in the glitz and glam of physically impressive miracles, that we fail to come to grips with Jesus' true purpose for performing the miracle to begin with. It is important to note that rather than stating that the man was "healed", Jesus forgives his sins. The scribes quickly pick up on this, and even if it's silently, they begin to wonder who this man thinks he is?
Jesus' response is rooted in his identity as the Son of God. While others- prophets and apostles specifically- were capable of healing, and even brining the dead back to life, no one, and I mean no one, had ever claimed the ability to forgive sins. It is true that on occassion prophets would pronounce that forgiveness had been granted (see the story of Nathan and David in II Samuel 12:13 where Nathan pronounces forgiveness, while also being careful to credit the Lord as the one who does the forgiving), but none of them claimed the ability and authority to forgive independently of God. Just as Jesus authority to teach is inherently a part of him (see Mark 1), so is his ability and willingness to forgive.
Beyond his ability to forgive, Jesus also shows an uncanny ability to know the thoughts of others. While Jesus is yet to explicitly claim the mantle of Son of God, his actions implicitly point to who he truly is. Consider these words from the psalmist:
"Oh, let the evil of the wicked come to an end, and may you establish the righteous- you who test the minds and hearts, O righteous God!" - Psalm 7:9
In testing the minds and the hearts of the scribes who would challenge his ability to forgive sins, Jesus is indirectly identifying himself as the righteous God who alone is capable of such things!
More than physical healing, this is a story about forgiveness, namely who it is that has the authority to forgive. It's also a story about our willingness, and indeed our ability, to receive the forgiveness that is offered so freely. It is here that the friends of the paralyzed man teach us something about what it means to be a community. The commentator John R. Donahue states it this way:
“The text also encourages reflection on the relation between sin and “paralysis”. Sin can exercise such force that people are unable to move or change. They may, like the paralyzed man, be dependent on others on the journey to health and restoration.”
While it is God alone who forgives, we as His people are tasked with the sacred responsibility of bringing those in need of forgiveness, broken and paralyzed though they may be, to the feet of Jesus. And when the "mat" you carry them on gets heavy, call on others of faith to lend a hand and remind yourself that you are only capable of carrying them because at some point, perhaps long ago, someone had enough love and kindness to carry you. After all, it's only when we see our reflection in the person laying there, paralyzed with sin, that we can truly understand what it means to have been forgiven.
Such is the case with Jesus' healing of the paralytic. Much has been said, rightfully so, of the paralytic's friends and their willingness to carry him to Jesus. Similarly, a lot of attention has been given to Jesus' healing of the paralytic. Again, it's hard to argue against the significance of such an event.
And yet, sometimes we get so caught up in the glitz and glam of physically impressive miracles, that we fail to come to grips with Jesus' true purpose for performing the miracle to begin with. It is important to note that rather than stating that the man was "healed", Jesus forgives his sins. The scribes quickly pick up on this, and even if it's silently, they begin to wonder who this man thinks he is?
Jesus' response is rooted in his identity as the Son of God. While others- prophets and apostles specifically- were capable of healing, and even brining the dead back to life, no one, and I mean no one, had ever claimed the ability to forgive sins. It is true that on occassion prophets would pronounce that forgiveness had been granted (see the story of Nathan and David in II Samuel 12:13 where Nathan pronounces forgiveness, while also being careful to credit the Lord as the one who does the forgiving), but none of them claimed the ability and authority to forgive independently of God. Just as Jesus authority to teach is inherently a part of him (see Mark 1), so is his ability and willingness to forgive.
Beyond his ability to forgive, Jesus also shows an uncanny ability to know the thoughts of others. While Jesus is yet to explicitly claim the mantle of Son of God, his actions implicitly point to who he truly is. Consider these words from the psalmist:
"Oh, let the evil of the wicked come to an end, and may you establish the righteous- you who test the minds and hearts, O righteous God!" - Psalm 7:9
In testing the minds and the hearts of the scribes who would challenge his ability to forgive sins, Jesus is indirectly identifying himself as the righteous God who alone is capable of such things!
More than physical healing, this is a story about forgiveness, namely who it is that has the authority to forgive. It's also a story about our willingness, and indeed our ability, to receive the forgiveness that is offered so freely. It is here that the friends of the paralyzed man teach us something about what it means to be a community. The commentator John R. Donahue states it this way:
“The text also encourages reflection on the relation between sin and “paralysis”. Sin can exercise such force that people are unable to move or change. They may, like the paralyzed man, be dependent on others on the journey to health and restoration.”
While it is God alone who forgives, we as His people are tasked with the sacred responsibility of bringing those in need of forgiveness, broken and paralyzed though they may be, to the feet of Jesus. And when the "mat" you carry them on gets heavy, call on others of faith to lend a hand and remind yourself that you are only capable of carrying them because at some point, perhaps long ago, someone had enough love and kindness to carry you. After all, it's only when we see our reflection in the person laying there, paralyzed with sin, that we can truly understand what it means to have been forgiven.
Thursday, September 1, 2011
Mark 1:29-45: Would you want Jesus to heal your mother-in-law?
We aren't even through the first chapter of Mark, and yet already Jesus is having problems escaping his reputation as a miracle-worker. It's not that it's a bad thing to be a miracle-worker, but as we have already seen, Jesus didn't come to perform the miracles. Nonetheless, in two of the three "scenes" from this passage, we see Jesus acting in the moment, healing and restoring health. It's worth asking though, is Jesus new-found popularity permanent, or more a result of what he can do for those around Him at the time? In seeing the reactions of those around him to his healing work, it might even challenge us to ask if we love Jesus for who he is, or what he can do for us?
Jesus' healing of Simon's mother-in-law, when taken in conjunction with the exorcism he performs just prior to arriving at Simon's house, tells us a number of things about Jesus' view of the relationship between the Law and humanity. Quite simply, if Jesus followed the Law as the Pharisees and scribes would have him to, the exorcism and healing of Simon's mother-in-law would never have happened. The Law doesn't allow for work on the Sabbath. Nor does it allow for the touching of one with an unclean spirit, or the touching of a woman who isn't a relation. So what does this tell us? Is Jesus some free-wheeling rebel who throws the Law out the window? On the contrary, Jesus actions serve to remind us of the intent of the Law. At the risk of spoiling what is yet to come, in Mark 2:27 we will see Jesus state explicitly the thinking that caused him to violate the Sabbath in such obvious ways, "man was not made for the Sabbath, but the Sabbath was made for man." Rather than seeing Jesus as some Law-breaking free-spirit, perhaps it would have done the scribes good to consider another option. Perhaps, Jesus was opening up a deeper, more eternal way of thinking about Sabbath. Perhaps Jesus knew that there is no rest for the demon-possessed and the ill. How tragically ironic would it be if Jesus allowed the law that was given to ensure that humanity would have rest to prevent him from giving rest and the restoration of health to those most in need of Sabbath?
After making an attempt, albeit a brief one, to flee the crowds surrounding him for miracles, Jesus once again finds himself in the midst of people, teaching in a synagogues and when necessary casting out demons. It is in the midst of this ministry of preaching and healing that Jesus is confronted by a leper, who desperately wants not only to be made well, but to be made "clean". Again, we see Jesus violating the rules of his day as he reaches out his hand to touch the man. What we dare not miss is that Jesus' touch, while not being the thing that heals him of leprosy, is the thing that heals the man's spirit. The man's request to be "made clean" reflects the way that he has been ostracized, completely cut off from his community. He wants to be healed, yes, but what he most wants is to be made part of society once again. If this man had been a leper for any length of time, then Jesus' touch would have been at once both a foreign, and yet also longed for thing. If we look closely, we see that Jesus' touch serves no other purpose. It is his words, "I will, be clean", that cause the healing to become an immediate reality. The pattern continues to emerge, Jesus refuses to elevate the law over the well-being of those around him.
Perhaps the word that is the most relevant for us is found in the response of both Simon's mother-in-law, and the leper. On one hand, we see Simon's mother-in-law respond by serving. Important to note is that she doesn't just serve Jesus, but also those with him. Without Jesus' physical presence among us, could it be that serving others is an equally valid response through which we show our gratitude for what Christ has done for us? On the other hand, we have in the leper a simple inability to stay quiet, despite Jesus injunction to say nothing. I find my ability to stay silent, even when commanded to do otherwise, an indicting characteristic of my own life. It is clear to me that I need to learn to appreciate the good news of Jesus Christ in a way that manifests itself in both service, and in an inability to remain silent about God's work in the world. The only way that can happen is if I learn to love the miracle-worker, not the miracle, if I learn to love not the cross, but the one who hung on a cross. What about you? Do you truly love the giver of all good things, or merely the gifts themselves?
Jesus' healing of Simon's mother-in-law, when taken in conjunction with the exorcism he performs just prior to arriving at Simon's house, tells us a number of things about Jesus' view of the relationship between the Law and humanity. Quite simply, if Jesus followed the Law as the Pharisees and scribes would have him to, the exorcism and healing of Simon's mother-in-law would never have happened. The Law doesn't allow for work on the Sabbath. Nor does it allow for the touching of one with an unclean spirit, or the touching of a woman who isn't a relation. So what does this tell us? Is Jesus some free-wheeling rebel who throws the Law out the window? On the contrary, Jesus actions serve to remind us of the intent of the Law. At the risk of spoiling what is yet to come, in Mark 2:27 we will see Jesus state explicitly the thinking that caused him to violate the Sabbath in such obvious ways, "man was not made for the Sabbath, but the Sabbath was made for man." Rather than seeing Jesus as some Law-breaking free-spirit, perhaps it would have done the scribes good to consider another option. Perhaps, Jesus was opening up a deeper, more eternal way of thinking about Sabbath. Perhaps Jesus knew that there is no rest for the demon-possessed and the ill. How tragically ironic would it be if Jesus allowed the law that was given to ensure that humanity would have rest to prevent him from giving rest and the restoration of health to those most in need of Sabbath?
After making an attempt, albeit a brief one, to flee the crowds surrounding him for miracles, Jesus once again finds himself in the midst of people, teaching in a synagogues and when necessary casting out demons. It is in the midst of this ministry of preaching and healing that Jesus is confronted by a leper, who desperately wants not only to be made well, but to be made "clean". Again, we see Jesus violating the rules of his day as he reaches out his hand to touch the man. What we dare not miss is that Jesus' touch, while not being the thing that heals him of leprosy, is the thing that heals the man's spirit. The man's request to be "made clean" reflects the way that he has been ostracized, completely cut off from his community. He wants to be healed, yes, but what he most wants is to be made part of society once again. If this man had been a leper for any length of time, then Jesus' touch would have been at once both a foreign, and yet also longed for thing. If we look closely, we see that Jesus' touch serves no other purpose. It is his words, "I will, be clean", that cause the healing to become an immediate reality. The pattern continues to emerge, Jesus refuses to elevate the law over the well-being of those around him.
Perhaps the word that is the most relevant for us is found in the response of both Simon's mother-in-law, and the leper. On one hand, we see Simon's mother-in-law respond by serving. Important to note is that she doesn't just serve Jesus, but also those with him. Without Jesus' physical presence among us, could it be that serving others is an equally valid response through which we show our gratitude for what Christ has done for us? On the other hand, we have in the leper a simple inability to stay quiet, despite Jesus injunction to say nothing. I find my ability to stay silent, even when commanded to do otherwise, an indicting characteristic of my own life. It is clear to me that I need to learn to appreciate the good news of Jesus Christ in a way that manifests itself in both service, and in an inability to remain silent about God's work in the world. The only way that can happen is if I learn to love the miracle-worker, not the miracle, if I learn to love not the cross, but the one who hung on a cross. What about you? Do you truly love the giver of all good things, or merely the gifts themselves?
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