Mark the Wordsmith - Mark 1:29-39

The Gospel of Mark does not mince words. Already in Mark, Christ has been proclaimed by John the Baptist, baptized, tempted in the wilderness, has called his first disciples, and has cast out a demon, and we’re still in chapter one. But despite this minimalist approach to storytelling, Mark manages to teach us a lot about who God is in these few lines. We've learned that Christ is the savior that the scriptures have been proclaiming. We’ve learned that  baptism is how we enter into a new life with God. And we’ve learned that Christ is more powerful than anything Satan can throw his way. 

Clearly, in addition to being somewhat short and sweet, Mark also displays some real theological genius, so it is in our best interest to consider each of his words carefully. This morning, as we head towards the end of chapter one, we hear about Christ’s first healing. At first glance, we might think that this is a simple story about the magnitude of Christ’s power and the popularity of his deeds. But once again, Mark has used succinct, deliberately chosen language to tell us a great deal more than first meets the eye. 

For starters, Christ could have chosen any number of sick people on whom to perform his first healing miracle. As the story will soon show us, there is no shortage of ailing people in this community. But Christ chooses a woman, a designated second-class citizen, a marginalized minority of the time. This speaks volumes about who God is and about whom God loves. Then, immediately after she is healed, the woman begins to show hospitality to her guests. This helps us to understand that knowing Christ and experiencing his love is a gift, but it is also a call. It comes with a responsibility to the community. 

I’ll note here than many have argued that this story does not portray Christ and the Gospel of Mark in a very good light. The woman is never given a name, but known simply as the mother-in-law of Simon. And after she is healed, she is relegated to the traditional role of women: serving men. These are compelling perspectives, and it is right to name that the author of Mark’s Gospel likely could not conceive of a world in which women are equal to men. But I believe that makes it all the more powerful that Mark sees what Christ has done for a woman, and understands that it is new and important and worth telling about. 

For me, the most incredible part of this story is what comes after the healing. When the people in their community hear about what has happened in Simon’s house, they come running. Mark, not one to miss an opportunity for useful hyperbole, tells us that the entire city gathers outside Simon’s door. Now, these townsfolk were not there to thank or praise Jesus for what he had done for their neighbor. They were not there to ask Jesus how he comes by this power or what wisdom he might have to offer them. They are certainly not there to celebrate the renewed health of Simon’s mother-in-law. No, they have come out in droves looking for miracles of their own, hoping to consume some of the quick fixes Jesus seems to be offering. 

In light of their behavior, we might reconsider Simon’s mother-in-law. She has in her very bones the proof of what Jesus can do. And I imagine she has any number of problems plaguing her other than her health - problems she now understands Jesus could likely fix. But instead of joining the line of folks outside with her list of complaints for Jesus to fix, she does something entirely different. She feeds him. 

In just five verses, Mark has set up an incredible dichotomy that absolutely pervades our spiritual lives to this day. Christ has shown the world the healing power of God, and in response, some people seek to serve him, while others seek to exploit him. I’m reminded of examples of these contrasting behaviors in my own life. How many times have I felt the power and love of God and been nothing but grateful and satisfied? And how many times have I felt relieved of a burden and immediately presented God with the next one on my list? I suspect that more often than not, I’m among the townsfolk looking for a quick fix, instead of a healed sinner looking to serve in Christ’s name. 

It is no wonder that the next morning, Jesus got up early and left town before the melee could start up again. His disciples, who had slipped very quickly into the role of talent managers, search frantically. When they find him alone in prayer, they exclaim, “everyone’s looking for you!” We can almost hear them add on, “you’re a hit, Jesus!” But before the exploitation gets any more out of hand, Jesus tells them it would be better to slip away quietly and head on to the next town to proclaim the message there. “For that is what I came to do,” he says. I’m sure the disciples were confused by this, as they often were throughout his ministry. They simply could not understand why Jesus refused to take advantage of his popularity and power, or at the very least, tell people who he really was.

This clandestine pattern is significant in the Gospels. In Biblical scholarship, we call it the Messianic Secret, and it is particularly pronounced in Mark’s Gospel. Over and over again, Mark’s Jesus silences demons who might reveal his identity, and instructs witnesses not to tell anyone about the miracles they have seen. There are countless intriguing theories and theological explanations for this secrecy. But for me, it all comes back to today’s passage, and Mark’s blunt and concise dichotomy. When we experience the power and love of God, we can respond in prayer and service, or we can exploit it, and Christ preferred to keep the workings of God a mystery over letting exploitation win the day. He knew that in the end, on the Cross, there would be no more confusion about who he is anyway. 

As you can tell, I could talk about Mark the wordsmith all day long. I think his simple but powerful language is uniquely applicable and delightfully accessible at any given time. But in this season of pandemic, of hesitant hopefulness and of the earliest signs of spring, I think today’s 11 verses are all we need. Our task is clear. As we overcome the obstacles the past year has sent our way, as we experience gratefulness like never before for the gifts of shelter, family, and health, as we take pleasure in even the smallest daily victories, we will inevitably place ourselves somewhere in today’s Gospel story. And where we place ourselves matters. Will we, like the townsfolk, collect these miracles hungrily and jump back in line with the rest of the city to receive more? Or will we, like Simon’s mother-in-law, rest in God’s healing love and reach out to others with compassion and hospitality? As we approach the season of Lent, let it be our care and delight to notice God’s miraculous love at every turn, and to respond in prayer, in thanksgiving, and in service to the Kingdom. Amen.