February 7, 2021 " What Shall I Pray?" Rev. Dal McCrindle
I learned this week that a friend I’ve known since my childhood is very ill and about all that can be done for him is to make him comfortable, so that his remaining time can be as fulfilling as is humanly possible. Prayer for healing is a powerful topic in the Bible and is on most people’s minds especially when they or someone they care about is sick. We all can think of someone or something we wished was different and we often include those people and things in our prayers on Sunday. Even people of little or no faith are desperate and quick to think of powers outside themselves when the normal courses of changing things have failed; whether they or loved ones are battling cancer, or facing a lifelong disease or confronting a life threatening situation. We are encouraged to pray for ourselves and for others even though in our liberal-minded theologies, we are not sure whether these prayers are efficacious or not; but we dream, hope and pray for some change.
When we read this or any story of Jesus healing people, we immediately identify with the sufferer in the story. We can sense the hope of the person as Jesus, the miraculous healer draws near, and we understand the immense joy of the person when they realize they are rid of their affliction. Who would not love to experience a true healing? To be given a new chance for healthy living?
So, with the gospel reading today, our focus returns to the subject of restorative healing. Last Sunday, we heard of Jesus exorcising the demon from the man who interrupted his sermon at the synagogue. Now, the narrative turns us from a place of worship into a private residence. Jesus and his small band of followers are visiting the nearby home of Simon and Andrew, and we, the reader, are provided another opportunity to witness the character and power of Jesus.
Simon's mother-in-law, is stricken with a fever. So, what would you do if your loved one was sick and this Jesus who you just saw drive a demon out of a man at church was now, in your home? Of course, you would seek his help. In the Gospel of Mark, this story will be the first of many in which people will place their hope in Jesus as healer.
There is something deep within that connects us with a healing story. When we are sick or afflicted, we don’t feel like ourselves. Things aren’t right. When someone we care about is very ill or feel broken hearted, or in the process of dying, they often don’t look like themselves; they are different, weak, beaten down. We choose to hold onto the memories of strong, vibrant people – even youthful.
We do not like to see people in a weakened, fragile state, and we certainly don’t want our own bodies to be weak and fragile. But it is inevitable, unavoidable. At some point, in time our physical, emotional, and perhaps even our mental state will be altered in the negative sense. We will cry, and not want to. We will hurt, and not want to. Why? Because pain: emotional, physical or psychological causes brokenness of spirit as well as a breakdown of health.
The core of the Gospel is that we humans in general, are to be whole. But in truth, we are broken, usually in more ways than one. Mark says it is Jesus Christ who makes us whole. Jesus brings restoration. So when Simon and his family speak to Jesus about Simon's mother-in-law, Jesus' ministry is restoration, in this case, healing the fever that keeps her from fulfilling her purpose.
When guests came to your house in the days of Jesus, it was the honourable task for the woman of the house, typically the eldest woman, to guide the preparation of the meal. Hospitality was expected, and it was honourable to fulfill this expectation. In bed with fever meant, Simon's mother-in-law could not fulfill her duty, thus the honour would fall to someone else. Make no mistake, it was an honour. In a society where receiving honour and avoiding shame for yourself and your family was significant, the mother-in-law would have been grateful for the honour to serve guests. It was more than a healing; it was a restoration. That’s what service or ministry to others can do, restore one’s dignity, feeling of worth, humanity. Of course, service, ministry can take many forms.
This week, I found a web site where you can listen to sermons and theme addresses given by the now retired Tony Campolo. Now, if you don’t travel in evangelical circles, you might not have heard of him but he was the Baptist minister who took President Clinton under his wing following the Monica Lewinski scandal 23 years ago. Campolo was criticized by several of his evangelical compatriots for agreeing to help the embarrassed President who, in their minds should have been condemned rather than comforted. Campolo maintained that should the President be helped to turn from his ways, he needed constant counsel and prayer; two things that Campolo offered to the discredited Clinton. This was his service, his ministry.
Anyway on this web site, Campolo recounts an incident when he was asked to speak to an assembly of Christian students. Following an address, a woman came forward dragging her son, whose legs were shackled with steel braces and asked Dr. Campolo to anoint her son with oil and pray for healing for her son. Feeling somewhat uncomfortable, and knowing that the assembly time was almost over, he asked that those gathered who didn’t believe that a healing could happen, to leave. He reported that everyone left except for the organizers of the assembly and a few Pentecostal student who had by now, starting to pray, in tongues. After an “appropriate length of silence,” he says he began one of those “phony prayers” that preachers often use when they’re uncomfortable. “O Great God of the universe, who made the heavens and the earth; and brought us into being; giving us the power to choose what we do, etc., etc. …” At that point one of the assistants grabbed the kid, placed his hands on the kid’s head and prayed, “O God, bring healing to this child;” simple, straightforward and sincere. And what happened? You guessed it, nothing!
Campolo says, “what did I, a liberal evangelical expect? Not much.” By the time the mother left with her son, the five Pentecostals had ended their mumbling and Campolo returned to the University’s Sociology Department where he worked. A few years later at a conference that same mother approached him and pointed to the tall teenager standing beside the drink machine.
“That’s my son over there,” she exclaimed.
“But what happened to him,” Campolo replied.
“A miracle, don’t you remember? You prayed for him!”
“Well yes I do, but nothing happened then. I didn’t think anything would happen.”
“Well it did,” replied the mother. “One day my son complained about pain in his legs and we released the braces and his legs straightened, just a little. And over a long period of time, both his legs straightened, little by little and he got stronger too. One day, we were able to take the braces off completely and he hasn’t worn them since. The doctors say it was a miracle. We know that, and we know how it happened! It was you!”
“But my theology doesn’t allow that sort of thing to happen,” he shouted!
“Well maybe God can do more than your theology,” she sighed.
Sometimes our ministry is in doing something, sometimes it is in supporting what others do, and sometimes it is in praying about what we and others do or should do. God in Jesus restores humanity. It is the sum of the gospel message.
In reading the text, I am struck by the simplicity of the healing. Unlike Campolo’s prayer or the action of his assistant, there aren’t any spoken words, only that Jesus approached the woman, touched her by the hand and lifted her up. There’s no show of power, no flash of a "look-at-what-I-can-do" attitude. Someone needed the compassionate power of God, and Jesus acted and his reputation spread.
Jesus couldn’t hide his power. People around him knew what he could do; they saw it and in an era with no YouTube, Face book, Tweets or Twitter, word spread the only way it could, word-of-mouth. Pretty soon, as you would expect, everyone who needed physical help was there. Jesus' healing prowess was no longer a secret. In what may not be hyperbole, the biblical narrative says the whole city was at the door. Actually, Capernaum was a relatively small village but if everyone gathered at the door, it would be quite the crowd. Can you imagine the scene? Everyone with a broken bone, back spasm, painful bunion, fever, stomach flu or demon was there by nightfall. They were all there waiting for their turn. Everybody knew what he could do, but the irony is that no one really knew who he was. Only the demons knew who he was, but Jesus silenced them.
It was a full night of healing and restoration; so you would think a good rest would be just what Jesus needed. Instead, he goes out in the morning while it is still dark to be alone in communion with God. It was short-lived. When you are a star, everyone wants your time. The legend of Jesus the Healer was growing by the hour.
Mark tells us it was morning and Jesus awakened to get away from the group to pray. He probably didn’t have much sleep; like when something’s been bothering you and just can’t sleep. You toss and turn and dream cray thoughts. You wake, startled even sometimes frightened, breathing hard, heart beating quickly and all you want to do is escape. But Jesus gets up, still exhausted from his preaching teaching, healing, responding to every demand that came his way. He had retreated to a friend’s house, only to find Simon’s mother-in-law sick who needed healing too. He’s so tired, wasted, beyond sleep. So he slips away into the wilderness, a deserted place. Even now in his quiet time, it is a time of wrestling, a time of struggle on how to be God’s servant messenger. Just then his prayer is interrupted and he is called away to continue his work.
As Christians, we know we are called to follow Jesus. That’s why we call ourselves Christians. But so often we like to rest on our laurels of what we have already accomplished in the past, rather than move ahead to go boldly where no one has gone before. It is tempting to recount what we have done; what has been built, what the church has been. But when we take the time to retreat into our silent place, to engage in speaking with God, not phony words but directly in words that we can understand, prayer is dangerous. Because God just might respond to what we ask. They say be careful for what you wish form, you just might get it! The same can be said for prayer: God just might give you what we ask. Prayer is like joining Jesus in the wilderness, in the deserted places, where God confronts us to hear what it is that we have to say, what is it that we want. God’s response might overwhelm us, shock us into discovering something that doesn’t fit our theology. We might just come to know, really know, so much so, that we describe our experience as hearing God calling us, telling us to be about something that at first glance sounds preposterous, dangerous, beyond our ability. What to pray? Whatever it is that we want or need. Frivolous or sincere, when we stand in the presence of God we will know what is foolishness and what is appropriate. We knew in a flash, when we asked something of our parents whether it was sensible or not; whether we were trying to pull a fast one or not, just seeing how far we could get. God is no less wise, nor any less compassionate and understanding. What to pray? For whatever we think we need. But don’t be surprised that the results are not exactly what we expected. Remember we are dealing with God and God has plans for the world, our community, our church and us. At least that’s the way I see it!