Know Where You Are Going. Mark 1:29-39, Epiphany 5-B, 2/8/15
Some years ago, when I was working as deployed staff for the ELCA in campus ministry,
I was asked to conduct a review at the University of North Texas. So I flew into DallasFort Worth airport in early evening, picked up a rental car, and headed out. This was in
the days before GPS systems; all I had to guide me to Denton, where UNT is located, was
that map they give you at the rental counter.
As soon as I was disgorged from the airport parking lot onto the spaghetti bowl which is
the Dallas freeway system I knew I was in trouble. I could not read the map because it
was pitch black in the car. Butt it would not have helped anyway because I was
immediately confronted with five lane choices, none of which said “Denton.” I picked
one and was swept into the automotive flood, like driftwood on a raging river. I would
have been happy to pull off and ask directions, but there were no true exits for miles and
miles, just ramps that led onto more freeways. To this day I have no idea how I got to
Denton; for about an hour and a half I crisscrossed the interstate system hoping for some
clear sign and I kept thinking, “I have no idea where I am going, but I am getting there at
75 miles an hour.”
It’s easy to do that isn’t it? I don’t mean driving aimlessly about in our cars, but driving
ourselves very hard with only a vague sense of where we are trying to get or whether the
destination is worth the journey. Our daily tasks carry us along at break neck speed, like
the flow of the freeway; it’s hard to pull off and get our bearings. In today’s gospel
lesson Jesus illustrates how the life of discipleship is ideally one of purposeful action
rooted in an awareness of God’s call in each moment.
Our text is a drama in three acts: the healing of Simon’s mother-in-law, the healings in
the city, and Jesus’ encounter with Simon at the break of day. Clearly, meeting human
need is important to Jesus. We see that in Jesus’ own actions, as he gives himself to the
sick and the possessed, but also in the way Simon’s mother-in-law responds to her own
healing. As soon as she is made well she begins to serve Jesus and the disciples. Mark
could not illustrate it any clearer: When Jesus touches you, he calls you to a life of
service like his own. To follow Jesus is to be a servant who responds to the suffering of
the world.
But there is more than that going in this story. Indeed, the most important part of the
drama is not the healings, but the conversation between Peter and Jesus which puts those
healings in context. After many hours of giving of himself Jesus arises very early to pray
and reflect. He wants some time apart to discern his next steps. But Peter and the other
disciples are having none of that. Jesus is on a roll and they want him to ride it as long as
he can. The sense of the verb is that they pursue him like hounds hunting a fox. In
essence they say, “Jesus, what the heck are you doing out here; there are folks waiting for
you to do your thing, come back to town and get going.” Jesus says, No.” He tells them
to follow him to the next town because he has a message which needs to be proclaimed
far and wide.
It seems to me that there is a very important lesson for life and ministry to be found in
this encounter between Jesus and Peter: faithfulness pushes us to dare new things.
Nothing would have been easier for Jesus than to go back into town and take up the work
of a beloved healer. His fame was spreading. He was doing worthwhile work. He could
have settled down and done a lot of good. The only problem was that God had bigger
plans for Jesus than that. Jesus could have stayed very busy as the resident exorcist of
Capernaum, but his calling was bigger than staying busy.
In like manner our calling is bigger than simply staying busy. In life and in ministry,
nothing is easier than settling into a comfortable routine. Particularly when we can
honestly say that we are doing good in the world, it is hard to step back and ask whether
we are doing what most needs to be done—or whether perhaps God is calling us to dare
new things.
As Christ’s disciples we face two great dangers in too quickly settling into unthinking
routine. The first is that the world will change and leave us in the dust. Examples from
business abound. Many in this room can trace the life cycle of Blockbuster Video from
non-existence, to industry dominance, to non-existence—all in less than 30 years.
Blockbuster found itself offering what nobody needed.
The analogy is imperfect. The world continues to hunger for what the church can offer.
The hope, comfort, and purpose of Christ can never be outdated. But how we offer those
things can. How we communicate can be. So whether it’s the songs we sing in our
liturgy, the way we promote Luther Memorial on social media, or the outreach ministries
we undertake, we dare not be content with simply repeating what has worked in the past.
We are called to service in a changing world and faithfulness demands taking that change
seriously.
So, one danger of merely repeating past patterns is that we lose effectiveness as a
community of faith, but on a personal level we run the risk of a slow spiritual death. Last
week I was listening to a podcast on the impact of robotics on employment. The thrust of
the argument was that robots will increasingly do more of the present jobs in our society.
The host asked the robotics expert, “So are you saying that at some point most of us just
won’t have the need to work?” There was long a pause before the expert replied, “I am
not sure we have a need to do paid work, but I think there is a basic human need to be
invested in something that matters and gives purpose to life. We may not need to work,
but we will need to do something meaningful.”
When Jesus told Simon that they were not going to go back into Capernaum to do more
healings, it was in part because that was not the ministry to which Jesus felt called. But it
was also because Jesus knew that Simon and the others needed to follow him into new
places if they were to ever expand their vision and understand the fullness of what God
was up to. Jesus wanted Simon to discover that which matters and gives purpose to life
and he knew that the only way to do that was to set out into uncharted territory. So he
refused to let Simon go back to what was comfortable.
Just as our muscles need progressively greater resistance if they are to grow stronger, so
our spirits need to push and strain beyond their comfort zones into new places if they are
to grow into greater trust of God.
All of this assumes that we are actually taking time to listen to what God is calling us to
do. In the midst of a busy schedule Jesus took time to pray and reflect. Right here in our
text we see the secret of faithful discipleship—a rhythm of passionate service in the
world followed by renewal and discernment of the next steps.
Some say faithful discipleship is a life rooted in prayer. Others dismiss that as escapism
and say that discipleship is all about service in the world. In truth that is a false
dichotomy; discipleship is both together. As one pastor puts it, “Action without prayer is
arrogance, prayer without action is hypocrisy." Faithful prayer preserves us from well
intentioned busyness; in our devotions we claim the time and space to focus our energy
on what God need us to be about in this moment. Bold action gives flesh to our holy
intentions.
If you sometimes feel as I did on those Dallas-Fort Worth freeways long ago—not sure
where you are going, but going very fast—I invite you to take a deep breath, pause, and
consider where God wants you to go…and where God might want us as a congregation to
go. That early morning I’m sure Simon was a little afraid to abandon what had worked
so well in Capernaum—but what an adventure Jesus had in store for him. Be assured,
God will also take us to some amazing places if we are willing to be led.