The mother-in-law’s story

This sermon was preached on February 4th, and is a reflection on these scripture passages: Isaiah 40:21-31; Mark 1:29-39, which you can find here.

I got halfway through writing my reflection on the text this week and I realised, actually, that’s not where I need to start. I need to start with a catch up. I’ve been away and things have been going on here without me… and, as you may have noticed in the newsletter, the parish council hasn’t met since November, which means that it’s been two months since I have had a chance to touch base with the elders and to share what is going on with me, what I’m planning for this year, what I sense the Spirit is saying to me. And while that two month gap is what normally happens, this year, it has felt bad, probably because last year brought significant loss and extra tension, and perhaps also because we began this year in a different way – with our shared services with Mount Wellington Community Church.

Plus, I’ve spent the last two Sundays with the good folks at St Paul’s in Napier as part of the free holiday accommodation on offer, which was a sweet deal, especially given how warmly they responded, and it also gave me a fresh perspective on my ministry here. So I recognise the need to re-establish a connection with you all, and I also have some important things to share about where my journey has led me over the past month.

I ended the year feeling flat and empty.

It wasn’t just that the year had been a hard one for me in terms of personal loss and grief, it was also that I was feeling at a loss.

The issues we face as a congregation and the issues the church faces as an institution, as an organisation in our society, in our country and around the world are so overwhelming that I don’t know where to start. I couldn’t see how to move out of keeping things going/getting more people into church mode into offering a way to journey together into a shared life that is healing, loving and full of grace.

I’m not even sure I can communicate effectively what I mean, how I imagine the difference between those two modes – I don’t know that I can describe what it is that I’m leaning towards and yearning to be part of – I don’t know that there are words for it yet that will make sense. In facing this reality, I felt despair. How can I inspire you to join me in a new thing if I can’t describe it for you? How can I motivate you to commit to something vague and entirely lacking in concrete goals without clear measures of success?

Why would you trust me and the changes I propose? I may just end up leading us to an early dissolution of the congregation.

I ended the year metaphorically on the kitchen floor, at a loss. There were tears. Lots of them. And there was also faith.

I know that God is present in the mess and the confusion because over and over this is where I finally let myself be found by God. When I reach the end of myself and my great ideas, and my hopeful planning and my latest resource…that’s when I throw myself on God’s mercy and let myself receive grace.

So I let myself begin the year with some fluffy fiction and the company of some good friends. And then I was offered a book called The Well Gardened Mind, and as I read it, I felt something resonating deep within, as if a bag of seed ideas for us at St Peter’s had just landed in my hand, and God was grinning at me. I followed that up with some long, reflective walks, I sat in quiet prayer, and I spent time talking with other ministers and listening to other’s sermons.

God is at work here and I’m looking forward to talking with the parish council about planting seeds in this coming year. I still don’t have words to fully describe what I’m leaning towards, but as I reflected on the scripture, it seemed like the gospel passage has some of the movement, the flow, the shape of it.

To start with we have Jesus going from the synagogue to the house of Peter’s mother-in-law, where he lifts up the sick woman, healing her, and in response she begins to serve others.

I’ve heard some responses to this story that are dismayed that a woman who was seriously unwell moments before, upon being healed immediately sets to with making sure the menfolk don’t go without their supper. I have some sympathy with that concern since I see how it can look like the story reinforces the idea that women have a fixed and lesser role and worth than men, and that Jesus is ok with this.

But that reduces her experience of Jesus’ healing touch to something transactional – as if Jesus’ motivation for lifting her up were just so that she’d get better and get back to work. But Jesus doesn’t treat others as problems to solve or fix. He sees wholeness and his touch is restorative.

Jesus’ touch is healing of the illness, yes, but Jesus is interested in the person – the whole person. Healing of physical symptoms is the most obvious sign to us, but it seems that for one who is open to trust and receive, there is more.

We have stories that tell of this… like the friends who make a hole in the roof to lower their paralysed loved one into Jesus’ presence. Jesus first tells him that he is forgiven and then he speaks to his physical healing.

We have the story of the woman who hid in the crowd and reached out to touch Jesus’ cloak for her body to be healed, but he would not move on, he would not let her go, until he spoke with her and called her ‘daughter’, restoring her connection to community and belonging.

We have the story of the ten lepers who were healed – nine of them content with the cure of a restored body, one who knew their healing had also happened at a deeper level.

So this woman, Peter’s mother in law, is lifted up by Jesus, just as Jesus is lifted up on the cross and from the tomb with the life of the Resurrection. She is touched by the vibrant energy of his love and in response to God’s action, she moves to serve – she ministers to him – out of gratitude, out of love, faith, and joy.

Jesus continues to heal into the evening. In the early morning he gets up and takes himself away into the quiet for stillness and solitude before he continues on his mission of loving, healing service.

There is a pattern here that we see in the other gospel accounts too. There is a flow from a restful solitude in nature, connecting with God in prayer into compassionate ministry and service to the world, connecting with God in people. There is a flow of joyful gratitude in the service. There is a flow of healing and enriching relationship. There is a flow of grace in all directions.

This is what I’m leaning towards and yearning to find a way to participate in – this rhythm of restful prayer, of loving presence, of deep and rich relationships and joyful service. I’m drawn to this pace, this flow, this vision.

So I am listening for the voice of the Spirit, I’m trusting God will show up, and that like the tenth leper, we will be open to receive and be guided to respond to what God is doing among us.