Is Silence Golden?
Epiphany 5b, I Corinthians 9:16-23 and Mark 1:29-39
"Woe is me if I do not proclaim the Gospel – I should be punished, I should be damned". So said, St. Paul.
Now some of you may feel, particularly those of you who have been around for awhile, "woe is me when someone may have been attempting to preach the Gospel for a prolonged period of time in one sermon!"
Have you ever thought about it? Why do Christians (most at least) put so much emphasis on the proclaimed word? Why do Lutherans demand 4 years of Graduate school from their Pastors, a significant part of which is dedicated to beginning to learn to preach? Why do you pay me a minimum of $300 every week to prepare to preach? Why do we expect or have a tradition of 2-4 thousand years of proclamation and exposition of what we now know as Scripture?
I have to tell you: sometimes I wonder. I wonder when I am so tired, or so hurting or so questioning of myself or God. I wonder when some of you glance at your watches as if to say – isn't this over yet, when will it be over, please let us go back to whatever we were doing.
Nevertheless, the proclamation of sacred text and it's being literally mouthed into the lives of people is happening for between 800 million and a billion people today – Christians, to say nothing of Jews yesterday or those practicing the Islamic faith – who will be hearing and studying the Quoran.
So, I spend on the average about 8 hours a week preparing my sermon. This week as I studied I thought about Jesus bending over Simon's mother-in-law's bedside to touch her, to lift her up by the hand. I examined my previous study notes. Then I came across this email from my close friend Pastor Art Leichnitz. It was dated February 7, 2009. He had been suffering from colon rectal cancer. We - his family and closest friends had been holding out hope for pioneering surgery for him that was scheduled for February 10. But then Art emailed: " Well guys, life can be cruel and faith sorely tested. I went in for my final test before surgery and its (that's his word for CANCER) is back in my bowel. So I got the wonderful news – there is nothing else they can do for me."
My friend Art entered the hospital about 2 weeks after that. He died on March 3, 2009. He was 59 years old. He had given his life to developing youth ministry across this country, to serving as a Pastor in rural and urban settings – to working for the Lutheran World Federation which included helping many people in Africa see how they could grow as the body of Christ in following Jesus here and now, with other Christians around the world. His skills had been considerable. His love for others and for God undying.
I tell you the story of my friend Art for a number of reasons. The most important reason is that his story may usher us a bit more deeply into actually thinking about and wrestling with the realities of life - our own and yes, others. This past year I have told you about my younger friend Corbin who at 34 with an 18 month old daughter and young wife died while awaiting a liver transplant. I have told you about my friend Kevin who miraculously last year received a heart and double lung transplant. To this point Kevin is doing GREAT. Thanks be to God! But I can't tell you about the person that died who made the courageous decision to donate their organs so that Kevin and some others could live. Nor can I tell you completely about their loved ones and how death has robbed them in many ways of that unique person that that man or woman was.
I can tell you about the hundreds and thousands of people that are dying today because in many places in Central African there isn't any safe water to drink. We may not be able to identify with them – because they seem far away and let's face it we haven't been confronted with the choice of whether we will die from thirst or from drinking water that may or may not be contaminated. I haven't told you about the women in my parishes who have been beaten by partners who had promised to love them – that's confidential.
I tell you all of this because I want us, I am convinced that we need to know of the realities of life and death. There are powers in this world that are real – around us and within us. We can call them by a variety of names. We in the 21st century may think that we are way more sophisticated than the people of Jesus' time who were aware that they were subject to all kinds of forces. How we love our warm houses, our hot water, our fridges and abundance of food. Let me tell you, they have all been purchased with a cost. And they are all temporary.
These powers that rage around us and within us: of good and evil, of fear and insecurity of things literally striving to claim us, seek to continually expand their reign.
Whom are we trusting? What really matters? Whom will we trust?
These are the questions of our lives - every day, every moment, every second.
But wherever we are, Jesus comes. He comes, as he says right at the beginning of Mark's Gospel, "the time is come, and the reign of God is close at hand – turn, repent and believe, trust the Good News," (which is him).
How is Jesus good news?
Can we count the ways? Sometimes it's really hard to see: when you are with you friend, your parent, your child who is dying. My friend Art had so much more that he could have done – that would have been good for the people of Africa, for his sisters who depended on him and their kids – for this church that so often gets lost in itself. How is Jesus the good news? Do we know at least some of the ways?
Firstly, Jesus knows the powers and they know him. He exposes them by giving himself over to them. This means that when such powers get hold of us – and they do – WE ARE NOT ALONE! We can call out to him for help, for strength. Even if we don't actually feel him he is there with us – in Spirit, sometimes in body, through his body, through those who trust him and even those who aren't aware that they do. We are not alone in our suffering, or the suffering and dying or injustice of others.
So it is that Jesus bends over and touches Simon's mother in law, raising her out of her bed . Some are raised today: – in death, literally, figuratively. Did you notice what this woman does as she is raised? She serves Jesus and the others.
You see we too can serve because of Jesus. He loves us. He loves the world. How can we, who hear of him, who receive his body and blood, who even occasionally hear his voice, how can we not serve others and God with whatever gifts we have?
So, Paul says, "Woe is me if I do not preach the Gospel", this good news of Jesus, that God's reign is ultimate – that illness, death and evil, hatred and greed, hunger and injustice, as powerful, as real and devastating as they are, are neither the lasting nor the controlling word for our lives. In Jesus - his living, suffering, preaching, teaching, healing and dying – we see that God has the lasting word. That Word of God takes on flesh showing us a new way – a way through all of this to new life – not just for us – but intended for all.
And this dear people is why the Church has been commanded to preach – so that all can hear and see – so that the Spirit can take frail, fragile, sinful human beings like you and me and bring about reflections of the light and love of Jesus Christ even in and through us.
May it be so, in and through us, this reign of God dawning because of Christ, for the sake of the world. Amen.