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by Rev. Jimmy Pickett  Oftentimes when I think of the beginning of Jesus’ public ministry, I tend to think about John’s account. John tells us of a Jesus who is trying to not make a big scene, but Mamma Mary knows what her kid is capable of and sort of gently pushes Jesus into performing the first miracle of turning water into wine at the Wedding of Cana. But that’s not what we hear today. Mark, always seemingly running out of time, immediately shows us Jesus the exorcist, the joy of preachers everywhere during this lectionary year…
Upon first reading, this story from today’s Gospel seems like a scene out of a horror movie with a yelling priest and a kid with a spinning head. Thanks Hollywood. But upon second reading, as I sat at my friend’s kitchen table earlier this week, sharing my frustration about interpreting this text, we both came to a bit of a deeper understanding of what might have been going on here. Centuries of translation, tradition, pop culture, and less than helpful misunderstandings of mental and emotional health have been piled onto Mark’s telling of this healing miracle in Capernaum. Oftentimes the term “unclean spirit” is understood to mean a demon which makes it easy to jump to the idea of demonic possession, but when we strip away the layers of added baggage and let the original text speak for itself, we can come to a deeper understanding of what Jesus is doing for this man. As we were sitting around the table, there was one word that my friend noticed in the original Greek text that stood out, and the only reason I became aware of it is because I spoke the demon of my frustration out loud. In the light of day, that frustration dwindled away and gratitude and curiosity took its place. That one word in verse 26 translated as “unclean” is written ακάθαρτος (akathartos). This discovery got me curious about the opposite. What is the word for to clean, or purify, or to purge away? Καθαρίζω (katharizo), or in modern English, catharsis. Moments of catharsis are so important for our emotional, mental, and spiritual well being, they allow us to clear out whatever is blocking us from moving forward. In Mark’s account of this healing in Capernaum, we aren’t told anything else about the person Jesus meets, only that they cried out in a moment of catharsis. When Scripture leaves this vague emptiness of detail, Ignatious of Loyola invites us to read our lives into the text. Here we are invited to remember a good cathartic cry with a friend, or to drop our pain at the center of a labyrinth, or throw our anger into the frozen river by breaking the ice with a rock. We are also invited to think about where it is in our lives that we need Jesus to remove whatever is hindering us from living healthy and holy lives with ourselves, our neighbors, and God. What do you need to cry out? Shame? Anger? Fear? We live in a day and age of division and we will only be able to heal that division with God’s help and some catharsis. Our relationships with each other and with ourselves depend on us naming our suffering, then God can help in the transformational work of healing in our own hearts, in our community and our society. There are so many ways this healing can come about. St. Francis went out in the streets and swapped clothes with a homeless man and ate the same food he and his friends had begged for, so fear of people living on the streets lost its power over him. Some people go to the gym and punch a punching bag until their anger dissipates. One time I was watching Grey’s Anatomy and just sobbed on the kitchen floor for a good 15 minutes because I couldn't hold my grief anymore. And I felt a new kind of freedom after those tears ran out of me. Jesus said “I came that they might have life and have it more abundantly”, and here in today’s Gospel we see this gift of abundant life given. Abundant life does not mean simple, easy, anxiety free, walks through the rose garden every day (though those are nice). Abundant life means the real, authentic, angry hot tears that Jesus knows all too well. Thanks be to God for the Incarnation because our God knows intimately what it means to need a moment of catharsis in order to keep moving forward, and is telling each one of us that we will be picked up when we fall apart. It’s part of what it means to be human, to be fully alive, not just fine or ok, but real. You’re not alone in whatever you’re holding, God has given us the gift of community and the invitation to catharsis, God has given us each other that we might have abundant life. Amen. By Bill Hattendorf, Lay Preacher If it were me, I think I might have just stayed in the fishing boat.
Today’s Lesson is about the beginning of Jesus’ ministry. We’re right at the first chapter of Mark, the first of the Gospels to be created. Mark tells us that after John was “handed over” to the authorities (pa-ra-do-thē-nai), Jesus returned to Galilee and began to preach the gospel. The NRSV that we heard a minute ago translates this verb paradothēnai as “arrested,” however, the Greek verb has a much fuller sense, as it includes an allusion to John’s death; later the same verb is used to speak of Jesus’ being handed over to death. The author of Mark clearly links these two men’s deaths. Both were prophets who offended the powers that be. Both died violent deaths. Gospel scholars have noted how for Mark, Jesus’ kingdom ministry takes place, from the very beginning, under the shadow of the cross. Considering how important a role Jesus has played in the history of the world, we really don’t know very much about him, particularly before he started his ministry. And we know almost nothing of the background of any of the disciples Jesus calls. The four in today’s story were fishermen. Matthew was a tax collector, but before Jesus came into their lives, we don’t know what the other seven had done, where they were from, what kind of families did they have, etc. As far as we can tell, the twelve guys Jesus called to be his companions were ordinary men. As far as we know, Jesus didn’t do background checks, figure out IQ levels, measure professional skills, financial acumen, or temple education. It seems like he picked people probably much like you and me. His disciples were anything but perfect. Many times they misunderstood him. So often they appear pretty clueless. They fell asleep on him, they often hesitated to follow him. Judas betrayed him and Peter denied him. These guys didn’t ask questions, which seems pretty astonishing. Jesus shows up by the Sea of Galilee, calls out to Simon and Andrew, tells them he’s going to upend their lives, give them a new vocation, then commands them to follow him without a backward glance or a thought for the family fishing business or anything else. Mark records no questions asked by either of the fishermen. In the space of one more sentence, Jesus issues the same call to James and John with the same results. In a flash they’re out of the boat and following Jesus. There seems to be no business plan, no evangelical outreach strategy, no job description, no interview and no time to consider the pros and cons of the offer – just an itinerant preacher who appears on shore, shouts an invitation and walks on. That first century of today’s story was an era of apocalyptic expectation among the Jewish community of Palestine. The end of the world was upon them. Countless prophets, preachers, and messiahs tramped through the Holy land delivering messages of God’s imminent judgment. Many of these “fake messiahs” we know by name and a few are even mentioned in the New Testament. The prophet Theudas, according to the book of Acts, had 400 disciples before Rome captured him and lopped off his head. A mysterious figure called the Egyptian, raised an army of followers in the desert, most of whom were massacred by Roman troops. In 4 B.C.E., likely the year Jesus was born, a poor shepard Athronges put a crown on his head as “King of the Jews” and he and his followers were brutally cut down by soldiers. There was Hezekiah the bandit thief, Simon of Peraea, Judas the Galilean, Simon son of Kochba, and many more – all of whom had Messianic ambitions and all of whom were killed for doing so. Many of them by crucifixion. My point in mentioning these is that following somebody doing what Jesus was about to do had the potential of being hazardous to your health. Thus my remark at the beginning that I think I might have stayed in the boat or dithered about what to do for so long that Jesus would have been a speck on the horizon before I made my move. We have to be careful about reading texts as if we could just plop them into the 21st century with no attention to context, and I know that this story, like other call stories in the Bible, is particular to a time and a people. These men did not seek to become Jesus’ disciples. They had not presented Jesus with their resumes and begged him to accept them as students. It was Jesus’ initiative, not theirs, that resulted in their becoming Jesus’ followers. That’s typical of other call stories as we see in the story of Abraham and Moses, Samuel and Isaiah. God chooses whom God chooses. These call stories confront us with the reality that God has a habit of showing up unexpectedly in the oddest places and inviting us to see, listen and turn around from where we are and follow him – no questions asked. I should say here that there’s another way to hear this story. Let me tell it to you a bit differently. Imagine again that you’re Simon or Andrew, James or John, fishing on the Sea of Galilee, going about your daily work. And then appears – Jesus of Nazareth, his hometown just a few miles away. And you know Jesus, you’ve known him practically your whole life. You know the stories about him, how his mother was visited by an angel, that a heavenly chorus even announced his birth, that he was chosen by God. You know Jesus. You’ve talked to him, listened to him teach. You’ve heard him whisper about the coming reign of God. He’s promised that something amazing is coming, that God is going to redeem God’s people, that the poor will be lifted up, the hungry will be filled. God’s faithful just have to hold on a little longer, just wait until the right moment. Wait for the right time. Just recently you heard John the Baptist was arrested by the imperial powers, his preaching silenced, his ministry cut off. Now Jesus comes to you and says, “The time has come.” Luke similarly begins his Gospel account of Jesus’ Galilean ministry with Jesus preaching in his hometown synagogue in Nazareth about the “year of the Lord’s favor” that Isaiah had prophesied. Jesus then said, as recorded in Luke, that time had been fulfilled in the people’s hearing that very day. The time has come. It’s time for Jesus to begin his public ministry. Jesus is saying to these first disciples, “Hey, remember everything we talked about, everything we’ve prepared for? It’s time. Now is the time.” So, I don’t think the calling of the first disciples is about them dropping everything to follow a stranger. I think it’s about following a teacher, a leader they already know. Jesus is telling them, “My work is entering a new phase, the time has come for me to travel and preach and heal. You know everything we’ve talked about . . . everything you’ve been preparing for? It’s time to put that into action. Come on, follow me, I’ll show you what to do.” I think that’s a message we can still hear today. Most of us won’t experience Jesus as a complete stranger telling us to drop everything. Being around the church for a while, Jesus is no stranger to us. We kind of know who this guy is. Jesus is an old friend who’s taught us well and now calls us into action. Jesus says to us, just like the first disciples, “The time has come. Everything you’ve learned, everything you’ve heard, everything you’ve prepared for? It’s time.” Coming to Galilee proclaiming God’s Good News is no longer an abstract rumor circulating at local gatherings; a person is now looking at particular people and inviting them to participate in his mission. Jesus tells them he wants to make them part of his life and mission, and they must decide what, if anything, to do in response. A list of rather obvious barriers comes to mind. We have responsibilities to families and members of our churches and communities. Fishing isn’t just a hobby but a livelihood. They expect us to be in the boat every day doing what we do to fulfill our responsibilities to them. Wouldn’t it be irresponsible, even crazy, to walk away with some street preacher? But the stickiest glue holding us in the boat might just be the desire to be in control. We go to elaborate lengths to gain and assert control over our lives, families, work and finances. Although even with all of our diligence, financial markets may crash, disease may enter our lives, people may behave badly and relationships may be damaged. It’s hard to live with uncertainties, so we hide or pretend we’ve got it all under control. All this can make it difficult to respond to Jesus’ call, because in order to say yes we have to follow a leader who stands the world on its head. He brings us face-to-face with our humanness and challenges us to stake our lives on his promises instead of our plans. Following Jesus is life-giving and transformational – but we don’t get to draw the map or have our questions answered before we start walking. We have to listen to Jesus’ call and take the first step. Jesus called his disciples to become fishers of people. He called them to follow him, to share the good news. Those first disciples called more disciples, they shared the story, they extended the ministry of Jesus across the globe and through the centuries. Jesus calls us, too. It’s not the voice of a stranger asking us to drop everything. It’s the voice of our teacher, our Lord, calling us to be the church. Not to go to church, but to be the church. Remember that we are the church – not the building or the institution, but the living church, the Body of Christ. It can be downright uncomfortable. Jesus stands on shore giving an invitation that makes real promises with real demands. The one thing that makes it possible for us to follow is that we know he will walk the entire way with us, leading the way right into the kingdom. Amen. Sources: “Zealot: The Life and Times of Jesus of Nazareth, by Reza Aslan © 2013 Bible Gateway translations for Mark 1:14-20, Matthew 4:1-17; Luke 4 Commentary on Mark, Working Preacher, by Michael Rogness, 2015, Bible Study Tools on Mark 1, from John Gill’s Exposition of the Bible Boyle Gospel Chapel, Fishers of Men, by Brenden Peters, 2019 By Rev. Heather J. Blais, Rector  “Here I am, for you called me.”*
In today’s reading from the Hebrew scriptures, we witness the calling of Samuel. The call story is a beautiful and moving account of vocational discernment. First, though, a bit of background.** Samuel’s father Elkanah (El-KAY-naa) had two wives: Peninnah (Pen-in-nah) and Hannah. While Peninnah bore him numerous children, Hannah struggled with infertility. Each year Elkanah would bring his family to Shiloh, so he might go to the temple and offer a sacrifice. Afterwards, he would give portions of the sacrifice to Peninnah and her children, and then he would offer a double portion to Hannah. This generous gift was a symbol of how dearly he loved Hannah. As you might imagine, this left Peninnah feeling threatened, and in turn, she would provoke Hannah. Year after year, this resulted in Hannah weeping and refusing to eat. Elkanah seemed oblivious to this tension, and the pain of Hannah’s infertility. He once asked her, “Hannah, why do you weep? Why do you not eat? Why is your heart sad? Am I not more to you than ten sons?”* One year, following the meal, Hannah was so deeply distressed that she presented herself before God in the temple. She wept and prayed silently for a child. She promised God that should she give birth, she would offer that child as one consecrated for service to God. Eli, the temple leader, noticed Hannah’s mouth was moving without any sound coming out. Assuming she was drunk in the temple, he went to reprimand her, when he discovered she had been in prayer. Hannah poured her heart out to Eli, who in turn prayed for her. She left the temple feeling better. With time, Hannah became pregnant, and eventually gave birth to Samuel. After he was weaned, she brought him to Eli, to minister in the temple, while she went on to give birth to five more children. When we meet Samuel in today’s lesson, he is asleep on the temple floor near dawn. A voice cries out: “Samuel! Samuel!”* Samuel assumes it must be Eli calling after him, so he runs to him and says: “Here I am, for you called me.”* Eli, who had been asleep, retorts: I didn’t call you, go back to sleep. This happens twice more. Eli begins to realize this may be God calling Samuel. He instructs Samuel to go lie down, and this time, to stay and respond: “Speak God, for your servant is listening.” Samuel does as instructed. And God responds by speaking to Samuel: “See, I am about to do something in Israel that will make both ears of anyone who hears it tingle.” God then goes on to explain all that will befall Eli’s family. Some background on Eli.** While Eli had once had the potential to be a strong leader, he had let his power, privilege, and position distract him from listening to God. Two of Eli’s sons served as priests in the temple, and their behavior was appalling. These scoundrels took the best portion of the sacrifices for themselves, while also mistreating and assaulting women who served outside the temple. Eli was aware of their behavior, yet he did nothing. He let abuse after abuse take place. While God had warned Eli to stop his sons, Eli’s love of power and privilege prevented him from taking God’s voice seriously. This is why throughout the first few chapters of 1 Samuel, Eli is described as having dimmed senses - both literally and metaphorically. Samuel must have felt quite uneasy with the information God had given him. After all, Samuel had essentially grown up under Eli. The next morning, Eli insisted Samuel tell him everything God had said. While a bit reluctant, Samuel spoke the truth in love to Eli - soon his family would lose everything. Eli, in a way that is quite admirable, essentially responds by saying - May it be so. Samuel goes on to become a trustworthy prophet of God, whose ministry is focused on putting an end to corruption. While Eli is a complicated and broken leader, there is good in him. Julian of Norwich once wrote, “...God is everything that is good, and the goodness that is in everything is God.”*** Eli’s family was corrupt, beyond repair. Yet even as Eli’s leadership was diminishing, the goodness within him accepted his fate, and selflessly helped this young boy hear and respond to God’s call. He helped Samuel listen. Eli did not manipulate Samuel, or misuse the information, or make it about him in any way. Instead, he helped Samuel listen and accepted his own fate. Given Samuel grew up in the unscrupulous environment cultivated by Eli’s sons, it turns out Samuel is uniquely poised to become a prophet who addresses corruption. Our experiences in life, particularly the hard ones, shape and form us. Again and again, God makes a way out of no way. The challenges and hardships we face, somehow become opportunities to serve God and one another. Eli was imperfect, but he did this one good thing. While he was slow to realize it, once he suspected the voice belonged to God, he equipped Samuel with how to respond. He sharpened his listening, and guided Samuel on how to proceed. Over the course of our lives we are blessed by the listening presence, wisdom, support, and companionship of family, friends, mentors, teachers, elders and little ones who teach us how to listen for the voice of God. These folks walk with us as we discern, and encourage us along the journey. They selflessly point us towards God, and the best versions of ourselves. These relationships are gems we can treasure our entire lives, because these relationships shape, form, and nurture us long after our relationship may endure, as people move away, change paths, or die. Recently, one of my first mentors, Jane, died after a long illness. Mid-career, Jane left a successful law practice to serve as the Diocese of Maine’s Youth Missioner. For over 20 years, she helped teens and young adults discover, grow, and deepen their faith. As I look back, it really amazes me how many of the youth from that community discerned calls to ministry, particularly into helping professions. Some of us discerned calls to ordained ministry; others to music ministry. Some felt the tug of God to go engage in mission work. I’ll never forget sitting at a table with some young adults from this community, while one shared that they had just finished selling all of their worldly possessions as part of their preparation to go and live as a missionary in Asia. Many more discerned calls to be social workers, teachers, and work in non-profits or government agencies that are working for justice and mercy. Still more serve in leadership roles in their local churches as lay leaders. Through regular youth events and gatherings, Jane cultivated a community where it was safe to be ourselves; where we could be painfully honest about what we thought of God and the Church; where we could be our messy, authentic selves. And Jane couldn’t have done that on her own. She had a knack for finding adults to volunteer at these events who enjoyed listening to teens and encouraging them in positive and healthy ways. Some were parents and grandparents, others youth group leaders, still others deacons and priests. We were empowered to lead liturgy, proclaim the gospel, offer sermons, administer the cup, sing boldly, and be leaders in the Church. What started as a group of teenagers in Maine has grown into a diaspora of Episcopalians who are now adults serving in a variety of fashions across the globe. All because Jane, and the adults that worked alongside her, loved God deeply, and knew how to listen. They nurtured and supported us, as we navigated finding the words. They taught us to say, Here I am. Speak for your servant is listening. As we continue to sit with the calling of Samuel this week, I would invite us to do some reflecting. Who has blessed our lives with their listening presence? With their wisdom, support, and companionship? What did we learn from them about ourselves? About God and God’s world? Who in our lives needs us to be a listening presence right now? To walk beside and encourage along the way? Might we engage in this holy listening together? Amen. * Scripture reference from 1 Samuel 3:1-20 ** Scripture references from this paragraph are drawn from 1 Samuel 1-2 *** Julian of Norwich in Revelations of Divine Love, ST 5, pg 9. By Rev. Heather J. Blais, Rector  Today we celebrate the Feast of the Epiphany. This feast takes place each year on January 6, and marks the arrival of the magi, who followed a star from a distant land to find the Christ-child. Like Christmas, Epiphany is more than a day. Rather, it is an entire liturgical season of revelation that lasts until Lent. During this season, our scripture readings recall the many ways Jesus was revealed to people-- from his baptism, to the calling of the disciples, to the transfiguration. Every element of this season is meant to emphasize Jesus’ mission to bring God’s dream to the whole of creation. It all begins with today’s gospel lesson from Matthew. While Luke’s gospel tells us of Mary’s child being born in a manger, and shepherds coming to pay their respects, it is only in Matthew’s gospel that we learn about the magi. The word ‘magi’ is Greek, and translates in English to ‘wise men’. The magi were a class of Zoroastrian priests and were renowned astrologers with a gift for interpreting dreams.* With time, the tradition of the magi evolved.They eventually became known as ‘kings’ and were each given names and histories.** While the gospel does not quantify the number of magi, the Eastern traditions have generally settled on twelve; while in the West we have landed on three.** This is likely because they brought three gifts - gold, frankincense, and myrrh.** I would suggest that the magi also have much to offer us. Their very presence in Bethlehem is a gift, as it boldly proclaims that the Christ-child is for everyone, no exceptions. They help us begin to appreciate the breadth of God’s radical welcome and inclusivity. These religious leaders are referred to as Gentiles, a name for those who do not practice Judaism. When they saw the rising of a star in the East, they experienced a call to come and bear witness. The magi turn their lives upside down, traveling from Persia, in what is now modern day Iran, all the way to Bethlehem. This journey would have taken several months, possibly even years. Bringing with them gifts that were meant more for a coronation, than for a new mother and child. Yet the gifts represent the magi’s reverence for the Christ-child. The newly born King of the Jewish people would usher in a new kind of reign that would look like none other, before or since. A reign of Divine Love meant for the whole of creation. And, something quite radical is worth noting. While every pilgrim is changed by their journey, these magi came to Bethlehem as Zorastian priests, and they went home as Zorastian priests. In other words, religious conversion was not required of the magi. Conversion to Judaism, or to the not-yet-even-an-idea religion of Christianity. The gift of the Christ-child is bigger than any one religion or way of life. Rather it is a gift of Divine Love for all. The magi also offer us insight by contrasting the distinctly different reigns of Herod and Christ. In our story, the magi are unknowingly drawn into the self-interested web of destruction woven by Herod the Great. While Herod’s title was ‘King of Judea’, in reality, he was a political appointee. He served under, and at the pleasure of, Roman Emperor Augustus. Scholars have noted that he was only partially Jewish, and often would respond savagely to potential rivals, particularly Jewish rivals.* Herod is a leader who seeks power and wants to hold onto it at all costs. He immediately perceives the Christ-child as a threat. It ignites his fear, which spreads a wildfire of fear, uncertainty, and anxiety amongst the people of Jerusalem. Herod does not care about the ripple effect of his beliefs, decisions, and actions. The suffering that ensues is of no concern to him. Herod misuses the resources of his position to learn where the Christ-child was thought to be born. He then attempts to manipulate the magi, hoping to trick them into telling him the location of the child, so he might ‘pay his respects’. Yet that kind of selfishness leaves its mark, and when we pay attention, our intuition will raise the alarm and guide us away. The magi do go on to find the Christ-child in Bethlehem and are ‘overwhelmed with joy’. Yet having been warned in a dream not to return to Herod, they go home by another way. When Herod realizes the magi caught on to his despair and trickery, avoiding him altogether, it sends him even further into madness. In the verses that follow today’s, Herod retaliates by sending soldiers to kill all the children under two years of age in and around Bethlehem. The untold suffering that resulted from this one man’s selfishness and fear is incomprehensible. Thankfully, like the magi, Joseph had been warned in a dream, and had led the holy family into Egypt where they lived as refugees until Herod’s death. Herod’s self-interested and fear-driven model of leadership is uncomfortably familiar. We have seen it throughout all forms of government, and across the political spectrum. Self-interest and fear drives too many leaders, and those ‘served’ are the ones who suffer most. The magi’s pilgrimage points us toward an entirely different kind of leadership. They guide us to a mother and her young child. A child born from an all powerful Creator, who willingly set it all aside, to embody Divine Love as the ultimate gift for the whole of creation. Lifting up a vision for this world like one we’ve yet to truly comprehend. God’s dream is a vision that upholds the whole of the human family and all of creation. A vision of a world ruled by divine justice; where the riches of creation are cared for and made available to all; that Love is the rule that guides our beliefs, decisions, and actions. Finally, the magi also offer us an opportunity for self-reflection. Reflection that is imperative if we want to help bring about God’s dream for this world. The magi witness the ripple effect of Herod’s fear, just as we watch fear play out in the news on a daily basis. The misinformation that spreads, the misunderstandings that ensues, the misuse of power and resources, and the senseless suffering of innocents. Witnessing such destruction invites us to take a holy pause and examine our own inner landscape. Archbishop Desmond Tutu and the Dalai Lama write about fear in The Book of Joy. They write: “For fear, it can help to face the fear directly. You can think of the worst thing that could happen if your fear comes true. Now, could you or your loved one survive what might happen? Could it actually be beneficial for you or your loved ones? What could you or they learn if this were to happen? How might this allow you or them to grow and deepen as a person? For example, perhaps you are worried about your child who is struggling in school and you are afraid some bad outcome will come to pass. Ask yourself, ‘Is it true that this outcome will definitely happen? How do I know for sure? Does my worry help the situation? Is there a better way of thinking about it or approaching the situation? What might my child learn from that experience? How might they grow and develop as a person?’ When we turn and embrace what we fear, it loses its power to frighten us. We no longer need to fight it, but can instead work with it.” *** What would it look like to try this exercise? In any case, as we head back out into the world today, I hope we might accept the magi’s invitation to examine our own inner landscape. To consider:
Sources:
*NRSV, p.1749; JANT, p.13; ** https://www.britannica.com/topic/Magi *** The Book of Joy by Dalai Lama and Desmond Tutu with Douglas Abrams, p. 317-318. |