January 28, 2024
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.
There’s a woman who said, “I think it would be good to get away for a while.” It had been a busy stretch: the holidays and their exhausting routines, demands of family, expectations at work. A few friends who were going through troubles of their own. So, she did what a lot of people do when life closes in: she contacted the travel agent. Picture that big poster of the teal water, the white sandy beach, the bright orange sun. It is a long way from here. That is a significant part of the appeal.
For those who can afford it, and for some who cannot, there is nothing like a getaway.
As some of you know, I once belonged to a study group with a dozen other preachers. It disbanded in 2020, two months before the pandemic hit. If that group had kept going, we would have been in a beach town in Florida, just about the time Pennsylvania temperatures dropped down to five degrees. This year, a couple of us were reminiscing through text messages: “It’s Sunday, we would have been in the karaoke joint beneath the palm trees.” “It’s Tuesday, time for breakfast on the pier.” “It is Thursday. Wish we were getting crepes and eggs.”
To quote the late poet Jimmy Buffett, the “change in latitudes” really did create “changes in attitudes.”
There’s nothing new about it. Sixty-five years ago, Frank Sinatra was crooning an old song by Matt Dennis:
Let's take a boat to Bermuda
Let's take a plane to Saint Paul.
Let's take a kayak to Quincy or Nyack,
Let's get away from it all.
Let's take a trip in a trailer
No need to come back at all.
Let's take a powder to Boston for chowder,
Let's get away from it all.[1]
The Gospel of Mark tells us that Jesus got away from it all. The story we heard today is one of three specific occasions that are worthy of mention in this Gospel. The third occasion was in the Garden of Gethsemane, as Jesus wrestled with the demands of the cross. The second occasion was immediately after feeding five thousand people in a place near Capernaum. Then there’s the occasion, which occurs after a very full day of work.
Jesus has been preaching and teaching and driving out the demons. He is so successful that anybody with any problems takes notice. As the Sabbath day concludes, they swarm around him, asking for help. He heals as many as he can, working late into the night. The next morning, he gets up before dawn, and he gets away from it all.
Most of us know how that is. You don’t have to be a healer like Jesus to feel some of that pressure. Maybe you are a mom, the kids always want something from you, including that big baby you’re married to who has a head cold. Or maybe you’re in business, the reports are due, the boss is insistent, and the whole machine will not let up on its demands. Or maybe you are sandwiched between grown kids and aging parents, and you’re feeling squeezed by needs and expectations.
Or maybe you are just plain tired. I don’t know if you realized that is a spiritual diagnosis, but it is. There’s a New Testament church that got a letter, the “Letter to the Hebrews.” The writer says, “Lift your drooping hands, strengthen your weak knees, and make straight paths for your feet.” It sounds that church is tired, so tired that some of them are skipping out of worship.[2] Imagine that.
In the story we’ve heard today, it sounds like we have a glimpse of the human side of Jesus: he’s tired, he’s worn out, he’s taking some time for prayer. As somebody describes the scene,
Jesus knew that he needed help. He knew that he could not live in this world without God. If he was forever going to be giving out, he must sometimes be taking in. If he was going to spend himself for others, he must spend time spiritually refreshing himself. Jesus knew that it was not humanly possible to accomplish all that he needed to accomplish every day of his life in his own strength alone. He also knew that he didn't have to. Not when the all-powerful, all-knowing, all-wise God, his loving Father was ever present, ready to provide, whatever he needed, whenever he needed it, however he needed it. All he had to do was ask. The Bible says we have not because we ask not. If we ask, we will receive.[3]
I think that preacher is on to something. That is why this scene from Jesus’ life is more than an escape. It is more substantial than a quick trip away.
Did you ever notice that a vacation can be exhausting? It takes a lot of work to get away from our work. Some of us struggle to know how to relax. For others, it is difficult to sit and be quiet, and for others, they go on their getaway and take everything with them: all the noise, all the commotion, all the music, all the clothing, all the stuff. They pack all their burdens in their suitcases and drag them along. (I’m the only one who does this, right?) Sometimes we need to take a vacation after we return from the vacation.
All our activity can wear us out, unless we learn how to be still, and to receive. This is a primary spiritual practice: hushing before God, praying to God, receiving from God. It is simple, really. You just have to do it. And you do not have to go away far. As Jesus will teach us, “Whenever you pray, go into your room and shut the door and pray to your Father who is in secret; and your Father who sees in secret will reward you.”[4] Go to the secret place, the quiet place, the deserted place - - and pray. In a noise-drenched, fast-paced, achievement-oriented, commotion-filled world, there is no better advice.
But there is something else about this story that is helpful to remember. Do you remember how Mark describes the location where Jesus goes? He calls it “a deserted place.” The word in Greek is heramos, which is translated “deserted place,” “lonely place,” “wilderness,” or “desert.” According to the text, Jesus has been there before. John the Baptist was preaching in the heramos. Jesus went to hear him in the heramos. After Jesus was baptized by John, the Holy Spirit threw him into the heramos. And out there, in the heramos, he dealt with big decisions about what God wanted him to do. The Tempter tried to steer him away from necessary things.
So, after a busy day, after working late into the night, where does Jesus go when he gets up in the morning? Into the heramos. Because when the sun comes up, he will be tested. In fact, which is exactly what happens. The Voice of temptation comes in the voice of Simon Peter: “Hey, where have you been? Everybody is looking for you!” Do you hear that? “Hey Jesus, last night you really wowed them – everybody is hunting for you!” In that moment, there was no greater temptation for Jesus than to listen to the voice of popularity.
After a night like that, if he were to stay in Capernaum, he could settle down and enjoy the adoration of his neighbors. Everybody could start thinking of him as the local Medicine Man. He could heal the physicians, teach the rabbis, and put the funeral directors out of business. That sounds tempting. Everybody could like you. You wouldn’t have to spread the Word and start a movement; you could simply stay where everybody liked you.
Simon Peter hunts for Jesus and says, “Hey, you really impressed them. Everybody is hunting for you.” And that’s why Jesus gives his unusual reply: “Let’s get moving then. There are a lot of places where I need to preach and heal.” He has discerned the work of God is not about winning popularity contests. It is about getting on with the challenges God has set before him. He worked that through in the heramos.
It strikes me that this kind of prayerful clarity is rare. He goes to a quiet place, and his prayer is for a purpose. It is not merely for spiritual refreshment, but for guidance and direction. It’s not merely filling the tank but steering the car. “God, why am I here?” Not merely asking what others expect of me or reflecting on what I want to do. It’s asking: What does God put before me today?
In 1939, the theologian Dietrich Bonhoeffer slipped out of his home country of Germany. Storm clouds were forming. Hitler was amassing an army and planning a war. Bonhoeffer had academic friends in New York. They said, “Come here and teach. Escape the insanity. You have been here before; you know it’s safe.” So, he went. He was a pacifist. He had no time for Hitler’s goose-stepping soldiers or antisemitic hatred.
Yet after a brief getaway in Manhattan, something did not seem right. There was an international catastrophe forming at home. He was retreating from it, even for the best of reasons. As he wrote to one of his colleagues,
I have made a mistake in coming to America. I must live through this difficult period of our national history with the Christian people of Germany. I have no right to participate in the reconstruction of Christian life in Germany after the war if I do not share the trials of this time with my people.[5]
His mind resolute, he returned home and quietly engaged in the struggle that he knew he needed to do.
I am reminded of how the way of Jesus runs counter to so many messages of our time. When the world pushes a getaway on us, they encourage us to run three steps ahead of responsibility, or to spend a lot of money, or to drink more Margaritas than we really need. We turn on the football games, eat our chicken wings, and are tempted to forget how many people go hungry in our rich nation. That is what our getaway culture wants us to avoid. Avoid reality.
Yet the discipleship way is a different way. We can enjoy a good football game or save for a fun vacation, but we are always called upon to love God and neighbor 24-7. And nowhere in the Bible does it declare that we can put our affluence at the expense of other people’s well-being. Jesus came preaching, “This is God’s world. The dominion of God is right here.” And he worked tirelessly to make the world a healthier, safer, and holier place.
“Let’s get moving again,” he says to Simon and the others, “for that is what I have come to do.”
So, the Gospel text today calls us in two complimentary directions: be still and get to work. Listen to God and care for others. Pray in such a way that our souls are replenished and engage the pain of the neighborhood. It is both-and, a rhythm of spiritual depth and social justice. In the name of Jesus, they belong together.
There is a balance between what we do and what we refrain from doing. Hard work invites us to rest our bodies and tend our souls. Prayerful silence clarifies our purpose and reanimates our efforts. The spiritual life is an engaged life, rooted in God and directed toward others.
So, take advantage of our prayer time today. Lean back into the arms of a God who offers to restore our souls. Listen for the whispers of grace, and trust God will equip you for every challenge. And after you say Amen, open your eyes and look around. We are called to serve a world of need. That is why God granted that moment of prayer and rest. And when you get right to the heart of it, selfless service to others is the reason we are here.
(c) William G. Carter. All rights reserved.
[1]
“Let’s Get Away from It All,” Matt Dennis and Tom Adair
[2]
Hebrews 12:12-13. See also Hebrews 10:25.
[3]
Cynthia Hale, “Early Morning Rendezvous,” http://www.csec.org/csec/sermon/hale_4420.htm
[4]
Matthew 6:6
[5] Letter
to Reinhold Niebuhr, quoted in Eberhard Bethge, Dietrich Bonhoeffer: Man of
Vision, Man of Courage (New York: Harper & Row, Publishers, 1970) 559.