The Word Spreads

Mark 1:29–39 NRSV

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 sundown, 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.

Think for a moment: What does it mean for you to feel whole? When was the last time you could confidently say you felt whole? Now? Last week? Last year? Not in a long time?

How would we define wholeness?

Is it sound mind and body? Is it in our network of relationships, all humming along nicely? Is it fulfillment upon completing goals or hitting our sales marks for the quarter? Or is it only a feeling that you get when something is complete, you’ve hit the finish line, and can finally rest?

The word whole is related to the word health. Hale and hearty, we might say. We get the word wholeness from that old English word, hale, which evolved into words like health and our understanding of a full, well-lived, life.

And, of course, we know the feeling of being not-whole. Partial, longing, weak, striving. Seeking wholeness, but not quite there.

I have found it helpful, as I move through my adult life, to put some sort of parameters around what I believe to be wholeness in my life. What are my metrics for wholeness? Looking at my life, am I hale and hearty? In areas of wellness, strength, relationships, and purpose, do I have fullness or weakness? Can I improve on anything, move towards or grow in any area?

And I’ve found a framework, from the teachings of Jesus, to be very helpful in this reflection upon my own wholeness — Jesus teaches us to love God with our whole mind, body, soul, and strength. So what does wholeness look like for us, mind, body, soul, and strength. If we are struggling or growing in an area of life, what are practices that bring mind, body, soul, and strength into greater health, fullness, wholeness?

I know when I am whole because it most often means I am able to love and serve with generosity out of a natural compulsion to respond in gratitude. Out of the abundance of God’s providing for me, making me whole, so I can respond with abundant service to those around me, and myself. Jesus’ work in me is to restore me to wholeness of self, a self which in turn can seek the wholeness and health of others.

I think it is easy for us to listen to Scriptures and the stories like we’ve heard today and think — well, I’m not on my death bed with a fever, so Jesus wouldn’t heal me. This story, as mundane as it is, because it has a miraculous, healing nature to it, is sometimes easy for us to dismiss — that doesn’t happen when I’m sick, that isn’t how Jesus shows up in my life.

Early in the book of Mark, we’ve heard stories of Jesus’ first movements in ministry, where he casts out evil spirits, calls disciples, and begins to share the good news of liberation for the oppressed.

So why do we have this simple text about a fever lifting? Shouldn’t the stories ramp up more and more, becoming more miraculous, showing Jesus is the true Holy Messiah?

One piece of the Good News for us today is this: Jesus comes to us in our lowest places, our weakest moments, to bring healing. But not only to these instances, but to some of the more mundane, simple times, when we need to be lifted up. There is no problem or ailment too insignificant OR too profound that Jesus cannot meet us in.

We don’t know much about Simon Peter’s mother-in-law. We simply hear that she is ill. And in Jesus’ presence, with his touch and encouragement, she receives healing.

The mother’s response is key to unpacking and exploring this text.

How does she respond? Not with loads of praise or some kind of grand show. Not with running out into the streets to spread the news, though that is clearly what happens as they move on from this house. No, the mother’s response is to serve. To respond to Christ in gratitude by welcoming him and his friends into her home.

And in this, Simon’s mother-in-law becomes one of the first disciples of Jesus. Perhaps not part of the formal entourage of the 12, but she very practically takes on the posture of Jesus, stepping in to serve and care for those around her. Her act of gratitude is to respond with service.

It’s important that we pause and not over look this reality. It can be easy to take her service for granted. Well, of course, she’s just resuming her “women’s work.” These young men have arrived and expect a meal, so of course she sets about fussing over them. Sadly, when we read the text that way we miss the profound shift that has occurred in her, this move from illness to wholeness, and what that kind of movement that shift causes in her.

In the ancient world, a fever could be a way of describing an assortment of ailments. Fevers are, of course, a body’s response to disease or sickness, as we know, white blood cells working to fight infection. But what we know in modern medicine now wouldn’t begin to describe the many ways we could understand the fever of Simon’s mother-in-law. Perhaps she was ill from a bought of depression or anxiety, her fever a somatic response to the body’s struggle to fight against the pressures of the cold world. Or could she have been bound up by cancer or another form of bodily struggle? This fever could have been simply an overheating due to the regular work of the day. Perhaps she’d been overwhelmed by many demands to could not sustain hosting these visitors and went away sick. We don’t know. But we do know that many times we feel this lack of wholeness ourselves, this sense that it is all just too much to bear.

Maybe it isn’t about an evil spirit or a miraculous turning from one way of life to service of the Lord. Maybe it isn’t always about a complete U-turn in direction. Rather, maybe the call we experience in Christ is that simple, firm, close hand of presence. Perhaps what we long for, as we pursue wholeness in Christ, is simply that hand of help that lifts us up from our state of despair.

The prophet’s reading, from Isaiah, today, reminds us of this abiding presence of God. When our way gets unclear, when our struggle get’s to be too much, we are quick to think we are outside of God’s reach, beyond God’s ability to help. We slip into this state of fever and despair, wondering “why is my way hidden from God? Why has God disregarded me?”

But the prophet reminds us, our ways are not hidden, our lives are worth such a great value to our Creator, we are known and lifted up.

Hear the prophet’s words, once more:

The New Revised Standard Version God’s People Are Comforted

27 Why do you say, O Jacob,

and speak, O Israel,

“My way is hidden from the LORD,

and my right is disregarded by my God”?

28 Have you not known? Have you not heard?

The LORD is the everlasting God,

the Creator of the ends of the earth.

He does not faint or grow weary;

his understanding is unsearchable.

29 He gives power to the faint,

and strengthens the powerless.

30 Even youths will faint and be weary,

and the young will fall exhausted;

31 but those who wait for the LORD shall renew their strength,

they shall mount up with wings like eagles,

they shall run and not be weary,

they shall walk and not faint.

Are you struggling, hurting, incomplete, wounded? Are you grasping for wholeness, healing, security? Are you feverish with worry, fear, and despair?

He gives power to the faint.

He strengthens the powerless.

Our text goes beyond the healing of the mother-in-law and her response of service, but as it does, she rests in the rear-view, steadily serving and honoring how Jesus has brought wholeness back to her house.

If we are to follow Jesus along this journey, where we will see miracles and the world changed, it is crucial that we begin with moments like this at the bed side of the mother-in-law, to remind us that God’s presence is not only discovered in the grand movements of evil spirits being cast out, healing of the blind and the disabled, the release of captives from prison. Yes, these are the might deeds of God. But pointedly, we have to look at Simon’s mother-in-law first. We must see this simple interaction for how it aligns with our own personal struggles and experiences.

I have been like this mother in law.

I have had days where I could not get out of bed, struggling under the weight of depression, the fever of inadequacy, the illness of heart that says, “you’re not enough, you’re broken, unhealable.” I’ve had those moments where I wish everyone would just go away, leave me to languish, and hide away in my room. Have you? I’m sure you have.

Whose work is it to get right? To get whole? If this is something I am supposed to do all on my own, then I know I will fail. You will fail.

But the story shows us — Jesus doesn’t ask for us to do that work ourselves. Rather, Jesus comes to our deep darkness, our sick bed, our hidden places, the things in us that we think are unseen. Jesus comes there and simply offers a hand, a firm grasp, a hold to grip and be lifted up.

Can you receive this grace today?

Out of the despair or fear or hurt or loneliness…can we hear the invitation to grasp the hand of Jesus and be restored to wholeness? Can we receive the good news of this welcome and calling…time to get up, be lifted up, time to serve and be restored.

The good news, as well, is that once this healing occurs, the word spreads. The rumblings of the healer, Jesus, begin to spread out through the town and countryside. People come, seeking healing, wholeness, for their ailments and despair.

I like to picture the line up of people at the house, later that day, as the text says, the “whole city was gathered around the door.” I’m quick to think of the healings Jesus does in his ministry and my mind wants to picture bleeding, bandaged, wailing, hurting people. The drama of it all is so intriguing.

But what if that’s not what it looked like. What if it was just a bunch of people like you and me. A little back pain here. A migraine there. Yes, some of us come with severe maladies, cancer, heart disease, alzheimer’s. But others come with guilt, depression, addiction, or greed — easier ailments to hide, but nonetheless painful and in need of restoration.

Friends, as the word of God spreads out, even to the far reaches of the world, the invitation is to hear it from our particular vantage point and recognize it as good news for our circumstances.

Maybe you don’t think you need miraculous healing or a complete turnabout of your life. Ok, fair. But do you long for wholeness?

Jesus speaks and these struggles are met with healing. Spirits leave under the authority of the Holy One.

The message spreads, this word of wholeness and healing which is for all people, not just Galileans, not just Jews, but you and me and this whole world.

As you come to the table today, come as one who comes seeking that wholeness. And may you know that in the body and blood of Christ, that restored wholeness is freely given.

Amen.