Isaiah 40:21-31, Mark 1:29-39
I was thinking how cynical we have become in this
world. Between news stories and family
drama, political speeches and outrageous tweets, the levels of cynicism are
depressingly high. It is a vicious trap
that many people are caught up in, and I hear it often in the lives of people
around me who have given up in despair because they can’t see a way out.
But there is a strong message that was intended for people
in that situation.
Have you not known? Have you not heard? Has it not been
told you from the beginning?
These urgent questions are passionately spoken to an
audience who has forgotten their story.
And our gospel today also has a feel of urgency. Today’s translation starts with ‘as soon as
they left the synagogue’, but a better translation is ‘immediately they left’,
and that word is used repetitively throughout the first chapter of Mark. Immediately they left the synagogue, where he
had just cast out a demon (who had immediately left the interrupting man, by
the way), he goes to a house where he then quickly heals a sick woman and she
immediately gets up and becomes the first deacon of this new church. And right
after that the house is surrounded with folks wanting to be cured of all their
problems. That’s a hectic schedule for
one day’s work, and we haven’t even finished Chapter One!
One common thread in these readings is the number of lost
and hurting people who do not know who they are and who created them.
Isaiah is writing to exiled Jews in slavery in Babylon to
remind them of who they are.
Come on, he seems to be saying, you don’t remember that
your family ancestors were enslaved once before in Egypt? God was with our
ancestors back then and God is with us right now here in Babylon. Remember who God is, so that you can turn to
God when we are living through tough times.
But you have forgotten your stories of who God is.
I think Isaiah realized that when we forget our stories, we
lose a piece of hope for the future and we get bogged down in soul-crushing
demons.
Demons such as depression, anxiety, narcissism and
addiction. Demons who live off cynicism,
resentment, apathy, racism, entitlement and pity parties. Demons that want us to believe we are slaves
with no hope of rescue. No wonder people flocked to Jesus to be cured of all
that. No wonder Jesus needed to get away
from it all and wander off into the desert.
Can you picture it, a starry black night with the Milky Way
painted overhead like a tiara of diamonds too numerous to count? The flashing streak of a meteor or two. The deep stillness with maybe a wolf howling
in the far distance, and crickets and frogs the only other sound. The stillness that filled his soul as he waited,
remembering the words of Isaiah ‘those who wait for God shall renew their
strength, they shall mount up with wings like eagles, they shall run and not be
weary, they shall walk and not faint.”
Contrast that with Simon, filled with excitement who wants
to have Jesus in his house first. He
wants Jesus to fix his mother in law, his neighbors, his relatives and even his
whole town. Does he want to be able to
say, “look at how significant I am, I brought Jesus to you all, and if it
wasn’t for me, you wouldn’t be fixed.”
Jesus has a bigger vision. He’s
not willing to become the neighborhood guru setting up a shop of miracles and
healing potions. His vision is bigger
than just one family, one town.
Have you not known? Have you not heard? Do you not remember
the story? Often we don’t remember, we don’t know who we are. Simon doesn’t know he is Peter yet, the rock
on whom the new church will be built.
The slaves in Babylon don’t know they will return, rebuild their culture
and renew their faith in ways that will endure for centuries. They don’t know that their story will survive
kings, wars, and genocides, or provide hope to many who follow after. We too lose track of who God is calling us to
be. But ours is a powerful, transforming
story.
If you think about it, this story speaks to each generation
in surprising new ways that outlast many stories. My grandmother was a Fraser, but I never had
a haggis until I was 18. I never went to
a Robbie Burns dinner until I was in my late forties. My grandmother did not pass on that part of
her story, because her family had been in Canada for four generations and
intermingled with a lot of other ethnic groups along the way. They lost the story of their culture and
customs, they lost their scots accents, but they kept their faith in God and in
the church community, their new clan and culture. That gave them faith to weather the storms of
world wars, revolutions, economic depressions and personal tragedies. It gave my grandmother a passionate
commitment to the Women’s Vote as well as the temperance movement that strived
to free people from the slavery of abusive relationships, family violence and
addictions. It helped her have the
courage and strength to cope with her British husband’s loss of sight and
career. Her faith story is one that
inspires and encourages me to this day.
Life can be a chaotic series of challenging
circumstances. We may feel like a pebble
tossed into Niagra Falls, wondering if we’ll ever surface again. When life is like that, we need to remember
our stories of Jesus, Isaiah, and the exiles in Babylon, to do as they did and
remember the stories of God’s love so that God may renew our strength once
again. May it be so for us all!
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