Epiphany 5 / Year B
Mark 1: 29-39
If you decided to rank Jesus’ miracles from
most impressive to least, chances are good the healing we just heard would be
at or near the bottom of the list. A
woman is bedridden with a fever and Jesus makes the fever go away. On the surface, it feels just a tad more
impressive than helping someone get over the hiccups. We are not even told the woman’s name and
know her only through her relationship to Simon Peter. I suspect her situation is more grave than it
appears. She lives in an age well before
antibiotics and an illness of any kind has the potential to be serious. That Jesus deems her in need of healing
suggests her situation is dire.
What makes this story stand out is what
happens immediately after she is feeling better. The text tells us “The fever left her and she
began to serve them.” It almost seems as
if Jesus heals her so he and his friends can get a meal. In our sympathies, we wonder why he didn’t
direct her to rest for a while before jumping back into action.
Sarah Heinrich, a New Testament professor
at Luther Seminary in Minnesota, notes this:
Illness bore a
heavy social cost: not only would a person be unable to earn a living or
contribute to the well-being of a household, but their ability to take their
proper role in the community, to be honored as a valuable member of a
household, town, or village, would be taken from them. Peter’s mother-in-law is an excellent case in
point. It was her calling and her honor
to show hospitality to guests in her home.
Cut off from that role by an illness cut her off from doing that which
integrated her into her world. Who was
she when no longer able to engage in her calling? Jesus restored her to her social world and
brought her back to a life of value by freeing her from that fever. It is very important to see that healing is
about restoration to community and restoration of a calling, a role as well as
restoration to life. For life without
community and calling is bleak indeed.
“Who was she when no longer able to engage
in her calling?”
While the story is hopelessly set in a
culture of fixed gender roles different from our own, it is worth noting the
Greek word translated here as ‘serve’ is diakoneo,
from which we derive the word ‘deacon’, the ordained ministry of the Church’s
servants. The woman is healed in order
to allow her to do her ministry. Mark
tells us as Jesus is dying on the cross a group of women watch from a
distance. Some are named, others are
not. He tells us these women ‘provided’
for Jesus when he was in Galilee. The
word translated here as ‘provide’ is diakoneo. It is very possible Peter’s mother-in-law is
one of these faithful servers who remains with Jesus to the end, even though
his male disciples all flee after his arrest.
“It is very important to see that healing
is about restoration to community and restoration of a calling, a role as well
as restoration to life. For life without
community and calling is bleak indeed.”
Last week heard about Jesus’ first action
in ministry – freeing a troubled man of an unclean spirit. In that story, Jesus delivers a person from something. In my sermon last week I asked what has the power
to possess you, to make you unclean or ill-at-ease with yourself. And I invited you to use the time between now
and Ash Wednesday to discern how a Lenten period of fasting and self-denial
might free you.
In today’s reading, Peter’s mother-in-law
is healed not so much from something,
but for something. She is healed in order to be able to do the
work God has given her to do. She is
able once again to claim her identity by living into her calling; thus
restoring to her life a sense of meaning and purpose and value.
During this time of pandemic many of us
have lost the ability to serve because our ministries have been put on
hold. As an example, in a normal year
Macey and Sandi are in the parish kitchen preparing Kansas City and Tampa Bay
themed soups. Sadly, this is not a
normal year. In a normal year our
building is used by one group or another pretty much every day of the
week. Now, sadly, it sits mostly
quiet. In a normal year many of you
donate your time and talents to various community groups and efforts. Sadly, most of these opportunities have been
paused.
But the diakoneo
in us is not easily silenced. We are
finding new ways to serve by reaching out to our families, our neighbors, and
helping those most in need at this time.
It manifests itself in many different ways and I am blessed to see it
every Sunday morning as people drive up to receive a communion bag and request
another one or two to drop off with a friend.
Another way our diakoneo is being expressed during this time is through our life of
common prayer. On a typical morning or
evening some fifteen households come together on Facebook live to join in
prayer. Others faithfully watch the
services at a later time of their convenience.
Our diligent prayers are supporting people in need and strengthening us
for the work God gives us to do.
Yesterday we held a Vestry Retreat via
Zoom. While not ideal, it worked. I am pleased to tell you Bob Leonard has been
elected to serve (diakoneo) as our
Senior Warden. John Rector has been elected
to serve (diakoneo) as our Junior
Warden. Mary Ellen Baur will serve (diakoneo) as our register. Beau Holland will continue to serve
(diakoneo) as our Treasurer and promises personally to make up for any
shortfall in the year’s finances! Our
staff ably serves (diakoneo) our
parish in so many ways beyond how we can compensate them. Still, they appreciate your thanks, your
gratitude, and your support.
And I continue to delight in my role
serving (diakoneo) as your
Rector. I have told you before I cringe
every time I hear a colleague use the phrase “my parish” or “my Vestry”, as if
you are our possession. I always say
“the parish I serve” and “our Vestry”.
Can you imagine the audacity of saying “my Altar Guild” or “my
choir”! I sense very deeply most of us
think of St. Paul’s not as a faith community we possess, but rather as a place
where we belong and contribute. In the
thirteen plus years I have served as your rector, never once has a person
demanded “their” parish do something.
But I can’t tell you the multiple times people has come to me and asked,
“What can I do for St. Paul’s?” and “What does St. Paul’s need from me?”
During our Zoom Vestry Retreat two very
telling questions emerged. Yes, we
talked about when we might think it will be feasible to regather for public
events and yes, we pondered the leadership this will require. But more telling of who we are and where our
heart is are these two areas of concern we discussed at length. First, who in our parish family are we not
reaching during these times? How do we
identify them and how can we connect with them?
And second, how can we begin to open up St. Paul’s as an outreach center
in our community? How can we begin again
to be a beacon of God’s love and God’s light in downtown Suffolk? As I reflect on the gathering of our elected
lay leadership I recognize acutely these are questions of diakoneo. How can we serve
our fellow parishioners and our community in a way congruent with our deep
sense of calling and purpose?
