Love Grows

Epiphany 4B; Mark 1:21-28; St. Paul’s, Smithfield, NC 1/28/2018

 

Jim Melnyk: “Love Grows”

The immediacy of Mark’s gospel always seems to catch me by surprise.  I know its brevity.  I understand its fast-paced clip.  I can never forget its incredible passion.  And yet I’m always a bit surprised as it unfolds before us.  In Mark’s gospel Jesus comes on the scene full-grown and ready to get down to business.  Mark tells us his story is about “the good news of Jesus Christ, the Son of God” (1:1) and immediately we’re put on notice.

First of all this gospel – this good news – is a promise of deliverance by God.  The word we translate as “gospel,” or “good news,” in English has roots in the Hebrew Scriptures – alluding to God’s promise to Israel in exile, “How beautiful upon the mountains are the feet of the messenger who announces peace, who brings good news, who announces salvation…” (Isa 52:7).  Good news is also a phrase that would have been familiar to gentiles of Jesus’ day, raising images of what was then called Pax Romana – the peace brought about by the emperor (Jewish Annotated New Testament, notes).

Secondly, this good news is about the in-breaking of the kingdom of God taking place in and through the very life of Jesus, who comes on the scene proclaiming, “The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God has come near; repent, and believe in the good news” (1:15).  The time to act is now, says Jesus.  God is present and ready to bring new life to all.

Now, I’ve always considered Mark’s work to be a passionate gospel written in desperate times.  By the time Mark puts ink to papyrus Rome and Israel are at each other’s throats with Israel being in full rebellion against their overlords.  The destruction of the temple has either just occurred, or is at the very least on the horizon.  Several key early Jesus-followers have been put to death – including Paul.  Followers of Jesus have been living with the expectation that his return is imminent, but now it doesn’t seem to be in the cards.  It’s no wonder Mark chooses to focus his telling of the tale on the promise of God’s kingdom in the face of the horror of crucifixion; or that his gospel, in its original, shorter form, ends with some rather enigmatic references to the resurrection.  It brings to mind the words of J.R.R. Tolkien, “The world is indeed full of peril, and in it there are many dark places; but still there is much that is fair, and though in all lands love is now mingled with grief, it grows perhaps the greater” (The Two Towers).

Jesus comes upon the scene, teaching in Galilee’s synagogues, and carrying within himself a sense of authority that is astounding to all.  He brings with him a new teaching that goes beyond precedent set by others, but which comes from who he is as the Christ of God.  Jesus teaches that the long-awaited Day of the Lord – what he calls the kingdom of God – has come, and will continue to come, filling the hearts of the faithful and bringing healing and wholeness for the whole of creation.  And it’s out of that authority which comes from both within and from God – that Jesus practices what he teaches – casting out evil with healing love – changing lives and bringing hope.

Jesus could have easily looked at the man with the unclean spirit and thought, “This guy is ruining my sabbath experience.  I wish he’d just go away.”  Jesus could have easily looked at the man with the unclean spirit and said, “He’s not our problem.  Tell him to come back when he’s better.”  Instead, Jesus recognizes that the coming kingdom of God must be for everybody or it’s truly for nobody – for in the Day of the Lord “all the nations shall stream [to the Lord’s house,]” and “many peoples shall come and say, ‘Come, let us go up to the mountain of the Lord, to the house of the God of Jacob; that he may teach us his ways and that we may walk in his paths’” (Isaiah 2:2-3).

Writing only a couple of decades after the life, death, and resurrection of our Lord, Paul understands the importance of finding within ourselves the authority that comes from God – an authority that is aware of, and in dialogue with, tradition – an authority which is also aware of, and in constant dialogue with, those around us. As author Michaela Bruzzese writes, “Paul insists that what we do affects others, and our duty is not just to ourselves but to the body of Christ. Knowledge alone risks pride, but knowledge combined with love builds the reign of God – a community of the weak as well as the strong, in which all are equally important…. If we dare call ourselves Christian, we must remember that we speak in the name of Christ and the new reign of God” (Michaela Bruzzese, Sojourners Online, Preaching the Word, 1/28/2018).  And the new reign of God looks different from our world as it stands today.

Like first century Israel our world today is “indeed full of peril, and in it there are many dark places.”  We find love mingled with grief – mingled with anger – mingled with fear.  Think about it: Just last Tuesday the 11^th School shooting of 2018 took place – the 11^th! – And we’re not even out of January.  That’s not even counting the student they found in Pennsylvania with an arsenal in his house and plans to shoot up his school, or the guns and ammo found in a locker at Enloe High School earlier this past week.  When I was in High School we had to deal with drugs – but we never wondered if one of our classmates was contemplating blowing us all away.  The world – our world – is indeed filled with peril. This past week more than 160 women came forward in court to acknowledge having been sexually abused by their gymnastics doctor.  Now-a-days Americans can’t seem to disagree with each other without putting their remarks in all caps or with exclamation points at the end of each sentence!  Or, we simply ignore the tough questions in order to keep the peace.  There are more days than not that I find myself wondering “Where is the ‘civil’ in ‘civilization?’”  I find myself wondering if the most fitting modern day icon of Jesus might be one in which he’s doing a face-plant out of frustration and grief.

But it is also true that “there is still much that is fair,” and that perhaps we, as faithful Jesus-followers, can help make love grow in this world.  We are called by God, and empowered by God’s Holy Spirit, alive and active in our hearts, to “speak in the name of Christ” and proclaim “the new reign of God” for this world.  We are called by God, and empowered by God, to be change agents for the kingdom of God – agents of God’s love and compassion to a world in need of good news.

Yesterday several St. Paul’s members joined with a diverse group of fellow Christians to work on the Habitat Faith Build taking place in a diverse neighborhood in Clayton.  Folks from St. Paul’s fed over twenty workers at lunchtime.  Obviously we’re not changing the whole world in one fell swoop – but we’re helping change the lives of the family who will make that house a home. 

Now, I’m willing to bet that between the many builders gathered yesterday we could have had some pretty significant theological and political fireworks had we wanted to go that route – but we are working together because like the God who created us, we know we’ve been called to be creators as well.  We know that building this one house – for this one family – will stand as a hallmark of the new reign of God.  Perhaps somewhere deep within us all, as we fixed sandwiches or hammered nails, we understood that even though in this world “love is mingled with grief,” that because we are faithful followers of the Living Christ, love will indeed grow all the greater.