miracles

In and Of Itself

Mark 1:29-39

As soon as they left the synagogue, they entered the house of Simon and Andrew, with James and John. Now Simon’s mother-in-law was in bed with a fever, and they told him about her at once. He came and took her by the hand and lifted her up. Then the fever left her, and she began to serve them.

That evening, at sunset, they brought to him all who were sick or possessed with demons. And the whole city was gathered around the door. And he cured many who were sick with various diseases, and cast out many demons; and he would not permit the demons to speak, because they knew him.

In the morning, while it was still very dark, he got up and went out to a deserted place, and there he prayed. And Simon and his companions hunted for him. When they found him, they said to him, “Everyone is searching for you.” He answered, “Let us go on to the neighboring towns, so that I may proclaim the message there also; for that is what I came out to do.” And he went throughout Galilee, proclaiming the message in their synagogues and casting out demons.


I have been wondering when or how or if I would ever find a way to tell you all about this thing I saw on HULU a couple of weeks ago. I call it a “thing” very deliberately, because I don’t know exactly how to describe it. It is a beautiful, compelling, experience of a “thing” – a piece of performance art, for sure. It is a series of stories told from one man’s perspective and also includes actual magic – card tricks, illusions, sleight-of-hand, kind of stuff – which is why I thought about it when I read about Jesus and this morning’s miracles and healings.

Anyway, this “thing” I’m talking about is called “In and of Itself, and it was produced by Stephen Colbert and his wife, and created by Frank Oz – the master of The Muppets – and it was written and performed by some guy named Derek DelGaudio, who you’ve probably never heard of until now. And the thing about it all is that that’s about all I can tell you about this “thing,” this “show,” this “movie,” this “performance.” Because if I were to tell you any more I would spoil the magical, psychological, spiritual, mysterious experience of it and I don’t want to do that. So, consider this a pastoral public service announcement to give yourself 90 minutes – the whole 90 minutes – of uninterrupted time to see what I’m talking about. I don’t think you’ll be disappointed. (If you are disappointed, I’ll beg your forgiveness later.)

But again, all of this – “In and of Itself” and the magic and the mystery of it all – had me thinking about Jesus and his miracles – about his curing the sick and casting out demons like he was wont to do. And it made me think about how we live as Christians in the world in relationship with and in reaction to these stories of Jesus and his mysterious, magical, miraculous ways.

Unfortunately, it seems we Christians sometimes feel like we have to pick a side and figure things out when it comes to such things. For some, whether you believe the magic of it all, or not, determines the strength or weakness of your faith. Maybe you buy it – hook, line, and sinker – the magic and the miracles of Jesus. Maybe you’re more cynical and skeptical and certain there’s a logical explanation to all of that. Maybe you’re somewhere in the middle – like me – and the strength of your faith in those miracles comes and goes, if you have to be perfectly honest.

Whatever the case, it seems clear Jesus didn’t want our faith to rest entirely on the presence of magic or in the practice of miracles. (He wouldn’t have asked people to keep his miracles and healings quiet, as he often did, if that were the case.) Of course, he didn’t want faith to be lost in the absence of that sort of mystery and miracle, either.

So, I like to think Jesus was as amazed and as surprised and maybe even a bit confused about what was happening to him and through him back in Galilee. He wasn’t a magician or a performer, after all, so I wonder if he expected that fever to leave Simon’s mother-in-law when he touched her. What if he was just trying to comfort his friend’s mother-in-law by taking her hand in his? And I wonder if he expected the demon to leave the possessed man we heard about last week when he spoke to him in the synagogue. What if he was just trying to offer a calming voice, and some comfort, to someone who was unsettled and unsettling to everyone around him?

I wonder if what everyone was calling “miracles” were just as curious and just as unexpected and just as awe-inspiring to Jesus himself, so that he was driven out to deserted places – like he was in this morning’s Gospel story. And I wonder if he was as skeptical or cynical or terrified and uncertain, perhaps, about what was happening that he just had to be alone to wonder and pray about what in the world God was doing with him.

Jesus never seems to be as consumed or as wrapped-up in or as concerned with how God was working miracles in the world like Simon and his companions, who hunted him down in this morning’s Gospel, might have been; or like “everyone” in Capernaum who was searching for Jesus that next day; or like we – so many generations later – still seem to be so consumed so much of the time. It seems to me we worry too much about WHO and HOW and not enough about WHY when it comes to Jesus and his miracles and the way these stories are told in the Bible.

See, more than miracles, more than healings, more than casting out demons, Jesus was about telling God’s story to whoever would hear it. He was about proclaiming and promising the love of God for all people. He was about sharing grace and mercy and compassion and good news. That is, after all, the message to be found in and through and because of every one of his miraculous acts of healing, I believe: the promise of forgiveness, the offering of compassion, the expression of mercy, the gift of new life.

What Jesus couldn’t wait to tell people is that we are loved and forgiven and welcomed in the face of our fevers and in spite of our fears; even though we have demons and diseases; and whether we’ve witnessed or received a miracle or not. That’s why he didn’t want to sit around Simon’s house. That’s what – I imagine – kept him up nights, what woke him early some mornings, what drove him out to pray in deserted places … and what inspired him to hit the road.

Jesus knew that his charge – that the call of every disciple and every one of his followers – was to get up and go out and to proclaim that message in synagogues, in homes, in marketplaces; at bedsides, to family and friend and neighbor and stranger…

Because for every fever that breaks – there’s one, somewhere, that doesn’t.

For every cure that comes – there’s another that will not.

For every demon that leaves or is quieted or cast out – there are legions that stick around and seem to win the day for too many.

And for my money, that’s why Jesus showed up – and why God calls us to show up – for the sake of the world, too: To care for the ones who don’t get the cure they’re after… To comfort the ones who are beset by burdens that never seem to get lifted… To be the answer to prayer for someone who would never expect such an answer to be shaped like you or me.

Which brings me back to that “thing” I told you about earlier – that show, that movie, that performance, whatever it is, called “In and of Itself,” on HULU. I don’t want to tell you too much more about it, not just because no one likes a spoiler but because it’s hard to explain and something you just have to see and experience to understand.

And the Good News of God’s love can be the same way. Which is why we’re called to speak of it, to share it, to become and to embody it – like Jesus did for our sake – so that others might know… and be blessed… and better… and loved in surprising, transforming, life-giving ways because of the grace we share.

That, in and of itself, is the stuff of miracles, if you ask me. And it’s holy work to which each of us is called in Jesus’ name for the sake of the world.

Amen

4,990 Little Miracles

John 6:1-21

After this Jesus went to the other side of the Sea of Galilee, also called the Sea of Tiberias. A large crowd kept following him, because they saw the signs that he was doing for the sick. Jesus went up the mountain and sat down there with his disciples. Now the Passover, the festival of the Jews, was near. When he looked up and saw a large crowd coming toward him, Jesus said to Philip, “Where are we to buy bread for these people to eat?” He said this to test him, for he himself knew what he was going to do. Philip answered him, “Six months’ wages would not buy enough bread for each of them to get a little.” One of his disciples, Andrew, Simon Peter’s brother, said to him, “There is a boy here who has five barley loaves and two fish. But what are they among so many people?” Jesus said, “Make the people sit down.” Now there was a great deal of grass in the place; so they sat down, about five thousand in all. Then Jesus took the loaves, and when he had given thanks, he distributed them to those who were seated; so also the fish, as much as they wanted. When they were satisfied, he told his disciples, “Gather up the fragments left over, so that nothing may be lost.” So they gathered them up, and from the fragments of the five barley loaves, left by those who had eaten, they filled twelve baskets. When the people saw the sign that he had done, they began to say, “This is indeed the prophet who is to come into the world.”

When Jesus realized that they were about to come and take him by force to make him king, he withdrew again to the mountain by himself.

When evening came, his disciples went down to the sea, got into a boat, and started across the sea to Capernaum. It was now dark, and Jesus had not yet come to them. The sea became rough because a strong wind was blowing. When they had rowed about three or four miles, they saw Jesus walking on the sea and coming near the boat, and they were terrified. But he said to them, “It is I; do not be afraid.” Then they wanted to take him into the boat, and immediately the boat reached the land toward which they were going.