Monday, February 5, 2024

The Christ of Capernaum

 

Jesu Juva

St. Mark 1:29-39                                        

February 4, 2024

Epiphany 5B          

 Dear saints of our Savior~

        Capernaum was just a quiet, seaside fishing village.  It wasn’t the sort of place where headlines were generated.  There wasn’t ever much “breaking news” in Capernaum.  Until the day when Jesus showed up, that is.  Suddenly, Capernaum was the epicenter of the Savior’s work.  There was chaos in Capernaum!  Capernaum would never be the same again.

        It all began on a Sabbath Day.  And this particular Sabbath began when local resident Simon Bar-Jonah showed up at the synagogue with his buddies—a little crew of Hebrews, with their new friend, Jesus of Nazareth.  We heard last week how that Sabbath service was nearly derailed by a man with an unclean spirit.  But with only a word, Jesus dispatched that demon, and freed that man from Satan’s tyranny.  It’s safe to say:  Everybody sat up and took notice of the new Rabbi from Nazareth.  But that day in Capernaum was just getting started.

        From the synagogue they brought the Savior to Simon’s house.  But there was a problem:  Simon’s mother-in-law was sick.  She was in bed with a fever; and they asked Jesus to look in on her.  It doesn’t sound too serious.  We’ve all been there.  Feed a cold; starve a fever.  Get some rest and plenty of fluids—maybe some ibuprofen, Vitamin D3.  But Jesus came and went to be with that sick, old woman in her hour of need.

        Have you been sick recently?  I have—sicker than I’ve been in many years.  If you’ve been sick with something more than the sniffles then you know that sickness can be a very spiritual moment—a time when you are forced to draw more deeply upon your faith and the promises of God.  You’re weak.  You’re vulnerable.  You’re dependent on the kindness of others.

        Ultimately, illness of any kind is a stark reminder of our mortality.  It causes us to remember that we are dust, and to dust we shall return.  But every time you get better—every time you experience healing and recovery—well, that is a little resurrection reminder.  It points us ahead to that grand and glorious day when our bodies will be raised and glorified, and sin and sickness will be no more.

        Consider the healing of Simon’s mother-in-law.  Such a nice story!  Wouldn’t it be nice to have Jesus come to your sickbed, take you by the hand, and lift you up “on eagles’ wings?”  So much better than dealing with insurance and co-pays and waiting on lab results and phoning the pharmacist because you can’t remember if it’s two pill three times a day or three pills two times a day.  Who wouldn’t prefer a house call from the Great Physician?

        But there’s more. This is a teachable moment for us.  Jesus went to look in on that feverish old woman.  And He comes to you, too, when you are sick.  He comes when your mother-in-law is sick—when your loved one is suffering—when you are flat on your back.  Never doubt that.  Jesus doesn’t just draw near when you are healthy, happy, and active.  But especially when you are weak, weary, and sick—He comes.  And suddenly, at such times, His Words and promises become even more meaningful and powerful.  His power is made perfect in your weakness.

        St. Mark says that Jesus “took her by the hand and lifted her up, and the fever left her . . .”  It’s a little preview of the resurrection, when Jesus will raise you up from sin and death, and from all that drags you down into the grave.  They who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength . . . they shall run and not be weary; they shall walk and not faint.

        And let’s not overlook that, as soon as the Savior healed her, she began to serve them.  She got to work.  Put on the coffee.  Scrounged up some sandwiches.  She returned to the work of her vocation with vigor.  She offered herself—not as payback or because it was expected.  She offered herself as a little sacrifice of thanksgiving and praise.  For now she knew.  She knew just how precious she was to Jesus—her Savior.  And she would never be the same again.

        When the Sabbath ended at sundown that day, chaos came to Capernaum.  The Savior’s work suddenly snowballed.  The whole city was gathered on Simon Peter’s front yard—bringing with them the sick, the demonized, the paralyzed, the leprous and the lame, the deaf and the mute, the epileptic and the diabetic.  And you would have done the same thing.  You would have moved heaven and earth to bring your sick loved ones to Jesus.  And one by one—with perhaps just a touch, or only a word—Jesus healed them.  Wonder of wonders.  Marvel of marvels.  Tears of joy!  The community of Capernaum could only conclude that the Kingdom of God had come to them in Jesus of Nazareth.

        But if that’s the case, why did Jesus eventually close up His Capernaum clinic?  He could have kept going.  The sick would have kept coming.  He could have put every doctor and hospital in Galilee right out of business!  Instead, Jesus sneaked off to pray in the early morning darkness.  His disciples hunted Him down to remind Him that He still had a waiting room full of patients:  Everyone is looking for you!  But Jesus had other plans—plans to preach elsewhere—for that is why I came.

        Jesus came to preach—to proclaim repentance and forgiveness of sins to the whole world.  The miracles and healings were to call attention to His message and His power over sickness, sin, and death.  Healings and miracles were not the main thing.  Jesus dealt decisively with disease and death by giving Himself over to death as your substitute—to take your punishment, to bear your sicknesses and sorrows, to endure the just wages of your sin.  On His cross and through His death, Jesus drags all our demons and diseases into the black hole of His death—swallows them all up forever.  Death and resurrection is the way Jesus works.

        His way is the way of death and resurrection.  Because Christ is risen, it means that every prayer you’ve ever prayed for healing will be answered affirmatively on the Last Day, in the resurrection of the dead and the life of the world to come.  Whenever we pray for health and healing, that prayer is always, ultimately, answered by God with a “yes.”  We just don’t know when or how that “yes” will come to pass.  You might be like Simon’s mother-in-law and pop out of bed and get right back to work.  Or you might spend a few more days in bed—or a few months.  Or you might spend the rest of your earthly days in hospitals or other care facilities.  Or you may die.  But then and there God’s “yes” will be wondrously revealed to you.

        Simon Peter’s mother-in-law died one day.  Peter died, too, along with Andrew, James and John.  All those diseased and demonized people who Jesus healed in Peter’s front yard in Capernaum—they all died too.  One day you and I will die.  And there won’t be any easy answers or quick fix miracles.  But Jesus will be there, as He always is.  Jesus will come alongside of you, take you by the hand, and lift you up from sin, death and despair.  Jesus will lift you up to be with Him.  And then all those prayers for health and healing you ever prayed will find their “yes” and their “amen” in the wonder of your resurrection.  All your sighs and groanings—years of tears and prayers—Jesus heard them all, and in His death and resurrection He’s already done something about them.

        The chaos in Capernaum quickly died down after Jesus moved on.  But Capernaum was never the same again.  The kingdom of God had come to them in Jesus.  And those who saw and experienced His power to save—they could at least conclude correctly that they—they were precious to Jesus.  Simon’s mother-in-law too—with all her faults and failings—with all her crackly bones and aching, arthritic joints—she knew.  She was precious to Jesus.

        And you are too.  Jesus Christ comes today into your messy world—wades into the chaos of your existence.  Whatever the worry that plagues you—whatever causes you to be feverish and flustered—whatever fills you with fatigue and weariness—Jesus doesn’t bat an eye.  Nothing gives Him pause.  To you He comes with the medicine of immortality:  Take and eat, He says, this is my body given for you.  Drink of it all of you, this cup is the new testament in my blood, shed for you, for the forgiveness of sins.

        And with these gifts He lifts you up from all that would drag you down.  And you—you rise up to depart in peace.  And you get busy serving and working on your divine assignments in this world.  For you have been given to know that you are precious to Jesus.

        In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.

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