Mark 1:21-28
Are You Ready
for a Miracle?
Sometimes when I read a biblical
passage, I feel …… awkward. By that I
mean I am wondering exactly what I am supposed to do with the text. Sometimes the scripture takes me out of my
comfort zone. Sometimes the text seems
irrelevant for a sophisticated 21st century audience. This morning might be one of those
times. Jesus entered the Synagogue and
began to preach. The folks listening
were astounded by his words. Mark wrote,
“He spoke as one having authority, not as one of the scribes.” I have no problem with this part of the text.
Ever heard James Forbes preach? Forbes
is an African-American with a smallish voice that seldom seems to rise above a
whisper. When he
begins, Forbes appears to barely be 5 ½ feet tall. But by the time he finishes he could play
center for the Los Angeles Lakers. I
remember hearing him preach to a room full of Presbyterian ministers. Trust me, that is a tough crowd. He preached for over ninety minutes. By the end of the sermon Forbes had us waving
our arms over our heads, singing “This Little Light of Mine”, begging for
more. I thought the whole room had gone
Pentecostal. That is the power of someone
who is filled with the spirit of God. I
have no doubt when Jesus preached, the room fell quiet as folks turned all
their attention on this young Rabbi and when he finished, they probably begged
for more. Jesus’ ability to preach is
not what causes me to have problems with this text.
As Jesus was preaching a man stood before
him and cried, “Have you come to destroy us?
I know you are the Holy One of God!”
Even this doesn’t bother me. I
have had plenty of folks comment on my sermons.
I was preaching once in an African-American congregation and a lady in
the back stood up and hollered, “Help him Jesus, help him.” And she was right, I needed help. My
belief has always been if one is brave enough to engage in this “holy
monologue” then one has to be courageous enough to hear the not so
complimentary comments that are offered.
Criticism is part of the job and your comments are welcomed. But you might want to wait till after the service.
What frightens me about this text is how
Jesus responded to his critic. Jesus said, “Be silent, come out!” Instantly an unclean spirit left the man’s
body. (stop)
I saw “The Exorcist” when I was 23 years
old. I had just completed Advanced
Infantry Training at Fort
Polk where I was
instructed by our nations finest to overcome my fears and face my fiercest
enemies. My instructors would have not been very proud of me that evening
because that movie nearly scared me to death.
I mean when Linda Blair’s head did a 360, my stomach was performing the
same feat. Yet when I left the theatre,
I didn’t jump at shadows or look under the car.
It was just a movie. It was
scary, but still it was just a movie.
I am not suggesting the supernatural
doesn’t exist. I am not suggesting there
is no such thing as the personification of evil. I am not even suggesting that somewhere in
history there might have been exorcisms that worked. I am just saying that is not part of the
world in which I reside. I know mental
illness exists. I have witnessed some
folks who are obviously possessed by things I do not understand. But I am a rational guy, pretty much
convinced that it takes more than a wave of a hand to heal a wounded soul.
Yet here is Jesus, who with a word
quells the dispirited; with a word, makes the lame walk; with a word, raises
the dead to life. And then we who
believe in Jesus are told if we have enough faith, we can perform the same
miracles.
There is something going on here that
make me a little nervous. I do not doubt
that God has the power to heal, but I know there are charlatans out there who
play on the emotions of folks who are hoping for a miracle. Folks in my profession are not shy about
laying their hands on the afflicted and asking that a limb, or spirit, or heart
be healed. Trust me when I say I believe
in the power of prayer. But I also
believe more damage than good is often done by these unholy exercises.
Ever see the movie, “Leap of
Faith?” It starred Steve Martin who
played a faith healer. He made the
rounds in Texas creating a carnival like atmosphere
where he promised healings to a people had little else to hope for but a
miracle. Martin’s line was always “Do
you believe God can heal you?” Now who
in their right mind is going to say no?
We trust in the power of God, we have witnessed folks recover from
cancer and heart attacks, we believe those miracle stories in the Bible yet this
is a dangerous question which preys on the soul of anyone who is
desperate. “Do you believe God can heal
you?” Of course we do, but what happens
if a healing does not take place.
Charlatans like the character played by Martin can then say, “Obviously
your faith was lacking.” The failure of
a miracle is placed on the already burdened soul of the afflicted, doing more
harm than the disease itself.
In this particular scripture Jesus
didn’t say to the possessed man, “Do you have the faith that God can heal
you?’ Jesus rather said, “Be silent, and
come out.” The man is healed, not by
his faith, but by the power of a word.
At first glance this puts an incredible
burden on those who are agents of healing and reconciliation. It would seem if our faith was strong enough,
if our words are spoken with enough authority, cancer would be eliminated,
mental health would be restored, and wars a thing of the past. This text causes considerable conflict within
my soul because I want to believe that there is the possibility that I possess
the healing touch of God but my faith is challenged by the reality of what I
witness each and every day. People get
sick and people die. That is simply a
fact of life. And if that is the case,
where is the good news? Where is the
gospel?
A number of years ago a middle aged stranger
entered my office. He was a bit unkempt
and had a rather wild look in his eye.
Jack said, “You don’t know me and I don’t know you but a preacher down
the street said we ought to get to know each other. I have been diagnosed as schizophrenic but I
am not. I have been tossed out of two or
three churches. I have no trust in organized religion. I am not about to become
a Presbyterian. But I believe in God and
I believe God loves me. Can we talk?”
My initial thought was, “Why did one of
my colleagues send this crazy guy my direction?” But Jack was already in my office so I asked if
he would like to sit and talk. Jack
never sat down. He ranted and raved for
an hour, never letting me get a word in.
I finally said, “Jack, I have another appointment in two minutes. Would you like to come back?”
He stopped, and to my surprise calmly
said, “Yeah, this has been helpful.” Twice
a month, for the next five years, Jack would come to my office for an
hour. Mostly he would talk and I would
listen. Sometimes I would hear the same
story over and over again. At the end
of each conversation Jack would say, “I still believe in God and I still
believe God loves me.”
In December, Jack came to my office for
the last time. He knew I was leaving Clinton and told me the
trip to Nellysford was a little further than he wanted to travel for our
bi-monthly sessions. As we got ready to
part I asked Jack the question I had wanted to ask for years. “Jack, why did you keep coming? I’m not sure
the progress you have made has anything to do with our conversations.”
He looked at me and said, “Quite the
contrary. Each time I leave, I always
say, “I still believe in God and I still believe God loves me.” And you always respond, “Yes Jack, God does
love you.” Do you how few times I have heard
those words?”
Sometimes we forget the power of a
word. Sometimes we never realize the
healing balm of a phrase especially when offered in prayer. Many of us pray everyday that someone will
recover from an illness or a difficult situation in life. We routinely pray for miracles which may
never happen. But when we pray, we
remind the ones with whom we pray that God’s presence, God’s love will be with
the one who suffers… that God’s presence, God’s love will be with the family of
the one who suffers… that God’s presence, God’s love will be with the community
of the one who suffers. By doing so, we
offer hope not just for the moment but for tomorrow.
Is that any different than a faith
healer? I think it is. We acknowledge that God’s time is not
necessarily our time, but God remains with our wounded souls even when we feel
desperately alone. We are not faith
healers, but we are dispensers of Gods Holy Words of grace and compassion. We are not miracle workers, but we are believers,
who awaken one’s willingness to be made whole again.
Do not be afraid to speak the Holy
Words. They create spaces of freedom and
places of healing and communion. Do not
be afraid to speak the Holy Words.
Transformations and resurrections do happen, even if they don’t meet our
particular timetable.
To God
be the Glory. Amen
