Healing Beyond Touch

 Mark 5:21-43

Healing Beyond Touch

            What is the most desperate you have ever felt? I am not talking about the kind of desperation or anxiety driven by the need to pass a test, be approved for a loan, or realize a personal dream.

I’m thinking about the feelings you might experience in a life and death situation, your own or even more strongly - a situation involving a loved one – particularly a child.

Today we have such a story of desperation – two stories really, that are intertwined in the telling.

One of them is the story a young girl, the daughter of Jairus, a leader of the synagogue. While we don’t know the nature of her illness, we do know that she is near death - and her father is desperate in that breathless, heart-stopping way that verges on hysteria and hopelessness and feels like a death in and of itself.

            On the banks of the Sea of Galilee, as Jesus and the disciples struggle to move about freely for the crowds hemming them in, eager to receive some of that Good News Jesus has been talking about, Jairus runs up to him, throws himself at Jesus’ feet, and begs Jesus over and over again to come, to touch his young daughter, who is desperately ill to the point of death, and to heal her; to keep her from leaving him; to keep her from dying.

            I imagine that most of us can empathize with the man’s desperate pleas. We can all probably appreciate the fear, the absolute terror, and the need that drive him. And so, he begs, he pleads, he falls to his knees – he will do anything for his daughter to live. Won’t Jesus come and save her?

But, as Jesus turns to go with Jairus, in the midst of a hundred desperate, grabbing, reaching, open hands, there is one hand that touches the hem – just the hem of his robe, extracting the power she needs to become whole.

She is a woman perhaps in middle age. Unlike the younger girl, she seems to be alone, with no one to plead for her or help her. She will do anything to be healed.

The illness that afflicts her has taken its toll in more than a decade of suffering; she has endured long years of seeking the help of physicians, magicians, or anyone else who might be able to restore her to health.

Her chronic hemorrhage has rendered her ritually unclean, an outcast by her synagogue and her community even as she becomes sicker and sicker. This illness has drained her life from her; seeking a cure has drained everything else, leaving her alone, destitute, and nearly hopeless. She would have been valued by no one, accepted by no one, befriended by no one.

Standing between this desperate, fear-driven father of a daughter whose life seems to be over after just twelve years of living, growing, twelve years of developing into this girl who is now on the cusp of promise and plenty, and the impoverished, ailing, isolated twelve-years bleeding woman, stands Jesus.

He is a healer. He is the one who denies death its power; he is the one who restores life. Jesus is the one who goes beyond what is sensible or ‘acceptable’ to deliver God’s love, mercy, compassion, and healing on those who stand in the margins.

A leader in the synagogue, Jairus has power and wealth. His daughter, of course, benefits from these, and while Jairus fears losing her, he has every expectation that Jesus will come, along with whatever power he possesses, to heal his daughter.

The woman in our story engages in an act of civil disobedience just by being present in the crowd where Jesus is passing; (her condition makes her “unclean” and unable to mix with people, to touch or be touched by anyone).

The woman, by rights, can have no expectation of anything – kindness, compassion, or healing. Shamed into silence by the prejudice, judgment, and bad religion of the day, she should make her request and hold her hope in private.

But, as she reaches out to touch the hem of Jesus’ robe… his power turns her expectations into a prize larger than life itself – larger than the life she was reaching for when she dared to try to touch his robe.

Just then, a messenger comes with the worst nightmare one can imagine – announcing the death of the young girl. Yet, as we read on, we see the power of Jesus manifest in life restored to her.

A twelve-year marginalized woman, and a twelve-year old girl: Each one of them is precious in God’s sight: each of them with a beautiful story of healing to be told. Each receives the gift of healing – it is the power of Jesus alone to heal.

The two daughters and their mutual twelve years bring each to a place where physical barriers and religious taboos must be broken in order to reach Jesus – and Jesus shows that he is not bound by any laws to keep him away.

The number 12 is common to both stories; It stands as a sign that there is abundant life in Jesus. This interwoven story clues us in that Jesus is on the loose in the world with divine power to restore life — abundant life for everyone.

At the end, those who doubted and those who laughed are left in speechless amazement.

For those who suffer, wait, are isolated in their suffering, are stripped of life through disease or disaster, or sit with the intense longing that only those who have suffered deep loss can know, this text brings hope.

Jesus is and always will be present, available, compassionate, and death-defying. Jesus reorders who is “in” and who is “out” in the economy of God that insists on abundance, and denies the powers that choose sides or diminish God’s beloved children as anything less than deserving of grace by God’s own judgment.

This story seems particularly timely right now, as we are coming away from a time of pandemic and the restrictions it placed – and still places – upon us. One of the conditions this pandemic imposed upon us is one of isolation. Like the woman with the hemorrhage, many of us have endured a time of intense isolation.

What happens when such isolation becomes the norm, as it did throughout most of the past year? What happens when social alienation takes shape and becomes commonplace, even expected?

Given our experience of this year, we might have a better understanding and compassion on those who, like the woman in our text, suffer from the isolation of judgment or not being able to “measure up” to being worthy of God’s healing grace.

The key to understanding this text is located in this word, “abundance.” God grants us his mercy, grace, forgiveness and love unconditionally and extravagantly. In God’s presence we receive an abundance of his healing, miraculous love.

I hope that when Jairus embraces his resurrected daughter, he also embraces a new vision of who God is, and what God values.  In Jairus’s story, Jesus demands that we not see death where he sees life.  In the bleeding woman’s story, he demands that legalism and judgment give way to love every single time. 

In each story, Jesus restores a lost child of God to community and intimacy.  In each story, Jesus embraces what is "impure" (the menstruating woman, the dead body) in order to practice mercy.  ach story, a previously hopeless daughter “goes in peace” because Jesus isn’t a pronouncer of death; he is a giver of new life.

This is wonderful Good News to share today, on a day when we welcome a new member into the life of community at each service. At the early service we will welcome one who may have difficulty being physically present and we will pray for her healing. At the late service, we will welcome one through the Sacrament of Baptism. In both cases, God’s abundant love and compassion will be prayed for them and for this congregation as we are made more full through their welcome and presence.

Mark awakens us to the abundant healing grace of God in Jesus. In Jesus, there is hope, life and community for all.

When we experience the abundance of God’s grace, we can’t help but take Jesus seriously. In Jesus, God has a way of transforming our doubt and dismissive laugher into tears of joy, our skepticism into speechless amazement and wonder. May it be so, each and every day. Amen.

           

Calming Cosmic Chaos and Existential Fear

Mark 4:35-41

Jesus’ calming of the storm on the sea reveals his power over evil, since the sea represents evil and chaos. The boat on the sea is a symbol of the church and invites us to trust God amid life’s turbulence.

³⁵When evening had come, [Jesus said to the disciples,] “Let us go across to the other side.” ³⁶And leaving the crowd behind, they took him with them in the boat, just as he was. Other boats were with him. ³⁷A great windstorm arose, and the waves beat into the boat, so that the boat was already being swamped. ³⁸But he was in the stern, asleep on the cushion; and they woke him up and said to him, “Teacher, do you not care that we are perishing?” ³⁹He woke up and rebuked the wind, and said to the sea, “Peace! Be still!” Then the wind ceased, and there was a dead calm. ⁴⁰He said to them, “Why are you afraid? Have you still no faith?” ⁴¹And they were filled with great awe and said to one another, “Who then is this, that even the wind and the sea obey him?”

 

 

          We all have things we fear, and there are surveys and studies that identify some of the greatest fears humans hold and what they mean. So, let me ask you: Of what are you most afraid?         

          While most of the time, our fears don’t have an impact on our daily lives, phobias are something else: in fact, in psychological terms, a phobia is defined as an extreme or irrational fear of or aversion to something. The top ten phobias include things like:

·       Arachnophobia: The fear of spiders.

·       Ophidiophobia: The fear of snakes.

·       Acrophobia: The fear of heights.

·       Agoraphobia: The fear of situations in which escape is difficult. This may include crowded areas, open spaces, or situations that are likely to trigger a panic attack. People will begin avoiding these trigger events, sometimes to the point that they cease leaving their home.

·       Cynophobia: The fear of dogs. This phobia is often associated with specific personal experiences, such as being bitten by a dog during childhood.

·       Astraphobia: The fear of thunder and lightning.

·       Trypanophobia: The fear of injections.

·       Social Phobias: The fear of social situations. In many cases, these phobias can become so severe that people avoid events, places, and people that are likely to trigger an anxiety attack.

·       Pteromerhanophobia: The fear of flying.

·       Mysophobia: The fear of germs or dirt.

          Most of us dislike the various things in this list, but our “fear” doesn’t rise to the level of being an actual phobia.

But, of the second and less-paralyzing categories of fears, many of us would add these, which may or may not have much impact on our decision-making or activity on any given day:

·       Change.

·       Loneliness

·       Failure

·       Rejection

·       Uncertainty

·       Something Bad Happening

·       Getting Hurt

·       Being Judged

·       Inadequacy

·       Loss of Freedom

Additionally, many people self-report that

·       public speaking,

·       ghosts,

·       darkness, and, especially in recent years,

·       zombies,

·       and clowns,

-        round out these lists.

Many times, our fear comes from things that we have experienced before, whether they have actually hurt us or not. When we look at why we fear something, can we articulate what that fear means to us? Oftentimes, we cannot.

Whether our fear rises to the level of phobia (paralyzing us, fundamentally changing how we function) or not, we recognize that fear does have a way of altering our view of the world or of certain experiences in life, and oftentimes, they control us, rather than the other way around.

The past year and a half we have seen fear driving the polarization of humankind, driving our action and inaction, driving our view of “the other” in exaggerated and devastating ways, and controlling many of our choices, for good or ill.

As is unfortunately too often the case, we have also seen bad actors manipulating us by using our fear to control large segments of the population, or to create chaos and uncertainty, often through devious and exploitative means, like spreading misinformation and outright lies connected to areas in which our fears reside.

In our text, Jesus says, “Peace! Be still!”

We can certainly understand the fear of the disciples. But Jesus invites them – and us – to trust in his power to overcome the storm.  

The disciples are out in the middle of the Sea of Galilee when a huge and unexpected storm descends upon them. That would be scary for any of them.

The former fishermen among them have run into their share of disastrous and deadly storms before and have likely known people who have lost their lives in such storms.

Even those who had formerly lived and worked in non-nautical areas of life have probably heard about those lost at sea, and as I indicated before, darkness and storm make the lists of both phobias and peoples’ most common non-crippling fears.

As we read this story, it may be confusing to us that Jesus was so stern with these disciples over their fear of the storm around them. He even questioned why they were afraid! Really, Jesus?

But then, Jesus simply scans the chaotic winds and waters around him, rebukes them, “Peace! Be still!” And they quiet.

But here is the thing: it is after Jesus stills the storm that the text tells us the disciples were filled with great fear. (The word used in the Greek is usually translated as “fear,” and not “awe.”

The quieting of the storm reveals the power of God; it is a power that is greater than any storm. Throughout the Scriptures, storms and sea both represent chaos in the world and the very nature of evil – both powerful, each uncontrollable; they are chaotic and disruptive of the natural order of things.

By his stilling of the storm, Jesus exhibits the fact that his power is greater than any evil and more powerful than any storm or chaotic element in the universe.

This Jesus, whom the disciples call “teacher,” whom they have seen heal an assortment of diseases and maladies and who has driven out evil spirits from possessed individuals in their presence, rebukes the storm and stills the chaos. He controls the elements – they obey his word.

While the storm had unsettled them and had sent them to their knees and to the sleeping cushion of Jesus, it is this action – this stilling - that actually produces the greater fear; after Jesus’ stilled the storm, the Greek says literally, that they “feared a great fear,” causing them to question, “Who is this?” “Who has such power that even the wind and the sea obey him?” It is witnessing Jesus’ power over the chaos and storm that undoes them.

These poor disciples were as slow as we ourselves can be.

Despite the teachings they have received from Jesus, which have revealed great knowledge, wisdom and insight, and the miracles they have witnessed, they are still shocked and amazed at the level of power he possesses – it is absolute.

What is God doing here? What is God revealing to the disciples? And why should they feel such great fear at the revelation of Jesus and his power?

Let’s fast-forward and say it’s 2021 – or something like that.

We live in an era more than 2000 years after the death of Jesus. We are Christians, which means we believe in Jesus. He is the Son of God, the Messiah. We believe in his power. We trust in him with our whole hearts and minds—don’t we?

Jesus says to the storm and the sea, “Peace! Be still!” and they obey. Yet there are times when we question or doubt, and there are certainly times when we are lured into trusting earthly powers or our own strongly, only to find that they are not enough. How can we not believe in the power of his name?

As Christians, we believe that the trinitarian God has come into the world to save the world not only in a single snapshot of time, but remains in the world to strengthen, sanctify, and restore God’s good creation.

Yet, we draw lines, we struggle to understand or believe, and as the disciples did, we ask too often of God, “don’t you care?” And we allow our fear to change us, to change our view of God and our commitment to follow Jesus. Our fear keeps us from living, from loving, and from fully believing.

Yet still, God comes to us again and again to still the storms and redirect our trust and faith in him. And God calls on us to share the truth of his power and the revelation of Jesus’ divinity with the world.

The disciples were traumatized by this frightful storm, and they forgot – or never understood – the eternal and divine power of the person they called Jesus.

When we are buffeted in cosmic storms as they were, storms that scare us, that eclipse our faith, and send us doubting and wondering if indeed, let us be reminded of Jesus’ rebuke to the stormy and angry seas, “Peace! Be still!”

I am reminded of Psalm 46:10, one of my favorite bible verses which reads, “Be still and know that I am God.” God is active and working in our world, holding back the chaos, healing the broken-hearted, calling us to trust him and to reveal our faith and trust with others.

God is the great keeper of the cosmos, healer of the broken-hearted, broken-spirited, and broken-bodied. God’s power is made perfect in weakness and made most evident in the calming of the storms, the chaos, and the pain of the world. Contemplating his great power, let us not be fearful, but joyful. Embracing his mercy and peace, let us, like the winds and sea, be calm. Let us, as the psalmist writes and Jesus quotes, “Be still and know that I am God.” Amen.

 

Gratitude and Joy - the relationship

 Sunday's sermon includes a clip of this wonderful video with Brene Brown on the relationship between gratitude and joy.

click link here

The Power and Danger of Hope (Mark 4:26-34)

 Mark 4:26-34 – The Power and Danger of Hope

Follow the Yellow Brick Road! Follow the Yellow Brick Road! One of my favorite movies when I was growing up was the Wizard of Oz. Lying on the floor of our darkened living room, mesmerized by the sights and sounds of this story about a girl from Kansas, her little dog, Toto, and the ruby slippers that sparkled and shined, it was easy to be transported to the land of Oz.

One of the first times I can remember watching The Wizard of Oz was soon after my parents purchased our first color television set. I was able to witness the transition from black and white to color and back again, and the story seemed to take on a whole new depth and meaning.

Technicolor added visual depth to an already remarkable story. I especially remember the visit to Emerald City, and the “horse of a different color.” But most of all, I remember that making the story come alive in this new way also increased the very real fear I felt at various times during the movie.  

            Every time they turned around, Dorothy, Toto, and their new friends were faced with one terrifying situation or another. Despite their fear, however, somehow, some way, they hung on to a semblance of hope, and this hope kept them going; it kept them moving onward even when things seemed hopeless.  

If they had been standing alone, any one of these characters may have given up and given in to hopelessness and despair. But together, they felt stronger; together, hope kept them moving forward, facing the next challenge; together, they gave it their all, because they trusted that if they faced their fears and persevered in following the Yellow Brick Road, their hope would be realized.

A few decades after our friends successfully made it out of Oz and Dorothy discovered that she had never truly been alone, another blockbuster film hit the screens: the Hunger Games. Like Dorothy searching for the wizard, the main characters in this film were up against seemingly impossible odds.

At one point, the mastermind of the horrifying games of survival of the fittest and the strongest after which the movie is named declared, “Hope is the only thing more powerful than fear… But for that very reason it is as perilous for a dictator as it is useful: A little hope, is effective; a lot of hope is dangerous." The dictator, you see, counted on the individual bit of little hope inspired by personal strength resulting in a dog-eat-dog sense of survivalism inspired by desperation. Yet, those who ultimately persevered and won the day were those who bonded to work together to defeat the evil around them.

Looking at today’s scripture texts, we find that it is hope that Jesus points us to.

Jesus has been speaking in parables to explain the kingdom of God is like; a kingdom where hope wins out over fear. In today’s text, Jesus likens the kingdom of God, the kingdom in fact inaugurated with the coming of Jesus himself, to the tiny mustard seed.

I would hazard a guess that mustard is not a seed or plant common to most of us here today. Living in the Mid-Atlantic when I think about mustard, I think about all the wonderful varieties of mustard found in grocery and gourmet cooking stores and websites. We don’t really think about the nature of the plant this condiment comes from. But this was a plant people of Jesus’ time would know about.

Jesus says that the kingdom of God is like a mustard seed, sown upon the ground, the smallest of seeds, yet when it grows up it becomes so large         that it is able to shelter birds as they nest in its shade.

We might think this would be a good thing, right?  Yet, the original listeners to this parable probably think Jesus is joking. Mustard was a pesky, even somewhat dangerous plant. Because it was invasive, it was even outlawed.

If you’ve ever been in Southern California during the late spring, you will see hillsides positively covered with the shining yellow heads of millions of wild mustard plants bobbing in the wind. Residents of the area can tell you it is, hardy and extremely prolific.

It’s this kind of mustardly behavior that threated crops and vineyards of Jesus’ time and made the plant undesirable; for these are plants quickly take over and choke out other, preferred, plants.

It makes you wonder what on earth Jesus was saying when he compared the kingdom of God to a plant that takes over where it is not wanted, gets out of control, and attracts those who are not necessarily welcome! (birds)

And Holy Flying Monkeys, what is Jesus thinking when he says this plant is what the kingdom of God is like?

Here is the good news that doesn’t look at first glance like good news: Like the mustard plant, the kingdom of God can’t be controlled.

The kingdom of God comes about at God’s will and like the “invasive” mustard plant, God will not be contained or defeated by any other powers, no power on earth is stronger than God.

The kingdom of God will draw in and shelter those who might be considered undesirable –

the outsider,

            the powerless,

                        the addicted,

                                    the HIV infected,

                                                the abused,

                                                            the convict,

                                                                        the uneducated,

                                                                                    the starving,

                                                                                                the poor and needy, and most of all -                                                                                       the sinner –  in other words, all of us.

The kingdom of God has come to take over,

to overturn the status quo,

and to transform the kingdoms of the earth.

Now, as you can imagine - for those who benefit from the status quo, this is not good news.

But for those who were outsiders in their own communities, ostracized by society, or otherwise disenfranchised, this is very good news.

For the early church, struggling through fear, this gospel was great news.

For us, today, who sometimes feel beat up, like outsiders, like pretenders, this is likewise very good news.

            This is news that gives hope.

                        These are words that we can trust, sent by Jesus to invade the

scariest,

            darkest,

                        most isolated,

                                    loneliest,

                                                most shameful,

                                                            most fearsome corners of the world

                                                                        and of our very lives.

The kingdom of God conveys hope; the only thing more powerful than fear.

                        A little hope is effective;

                                    a lot of hope is dangerous.

                                                Jesus gives us is maximum hope.

Yet we might ask, how is it that this hope is as perilous as it is useful? Who might find it dangerous?

How about the powers that subjugate the marginalized; those that benefit from exploitation of the powerless; those who enslave the weak and overpower the poor.

The hope Jesus offers is dangerous to those who deal in fear-mongering: like unscrupulous leaders, drug lords, terrorists, both domestic and foreign; like those who promote fear and hatred toward targeted groups of people; corrupt officials in public and private arenas who prey on those who live without hope.

The good news of this gospel, my friends, is that even more than the mustard plant is hard to control, the kingdom of God cannot be controlled. It cannot be restrained. It cannot be contained. And Jesus makes us part of that kingdom

Therefore, we shall not fear. If there is nothing else the past couple of Sundays have reminded us, God’s own Spirit comes to give us great strength and the gifts to bless this kingdom in Jesus’ name.

If our friends from Oz had given in to hopeless despair, they would never have kept going, overcoming obstacles in their way, defeating the darkness in their world.

They never would have discovered the gifts they had already been given.

The good news in this gospel is that God is here, giving each of us the gifts we need to anticipate, participate in, and to offer hope in this kingdom of God. God is here like the mustard plants, growing, spreading, and blessing those in most need of love and mercy, of protection and shelter, of compassion and generosity.

The kingdom is at work here in the thousands of meals prepared, given out and delivered to the lonely and to those in need not just of food but of the love and prayer that goes out with it. The kingdom is at work here in VBS packets being assembled for the children who will learn more about Jesus in a couple of weeks despite our need to do so online.

The kingdom work at Zion includes utility, rent, shelter, and other assistance given to our Helping Hand fund, as well as donations given through your generosity to abused women and children, men and women rebuilding lives after prison, the homeless now being sheltered, at-risk children being provided safe activity for the summer through the Lutheran Camping Corporation, the Wittel Farm Food Growing Project, and more.  

As disciples of Christ, when we share the love that God first showed us in Christ, we are like mustard plants, participating in the kingdom work, providing Christ’s hope in the world.

The kingdom of God is spread through soup kitchens, blood that is donated, and prayers said for loved ones and strangers alike each week here in worship and daily in our homes.  

The kingdom of God is at work with every smile shared, every kind word spoken, and every card sent to the lonely, the sick, and the homebound.

God’s Spirit fills us with hope, and when we live in hope, we get things done. When we live in hope, joy follows, as we help those who need to experience the blessing of this kingdom work.

When we remember the indiscriminately shared, sheltering love of God demonstrated in the example of a simple, small seed, we learn what it is to live in hope, trusting that God’s full, technicolor love will grow the kingdom as God has always done.

God will continue to scatter seed, continue to invade the dark and stormy places of the world. As part of that work, we share hope that is stronger than fear, driven by the grace of God, who frees us to turn the black and white of the status quo into the brilliant, life-giving, life-sustaining colors of the kingdom of God.

May God grant us each hope stronger than fear, more powerful than any power on earth, and more dangerous than we can dare to imagine. Amen.