Mk 1:29-39

5 February 2006

“Time to Move On”

            Today’s gospel reading in Mark is one that I haven’t paid much attention to for a while, even though there is some really interesting stuff in it.  And when I say “for a while,” I mean:  not since the last time I preached a sermon on it.  That would be six years ago.  It was one of my very last sermons in Nebraska.  I’ve read the text since then, but not to the point of really letting it sink in.

            At the time, my focus was on Jesus casting out the demons.  I even remember the sermon title.  It was simply, “Demons.”  I spoke about demons, be they actual demons or metaphorical demons.  That was when there was a furious fight in the Presbyterian Church over the ordination of homosexuals.  People in different camps were demonizing the others.  Things have cooled off a little since then, but it remains an unresolved issue.

            Today, I want to focus on something else.  The image that has captured my attention is that of movement.  The image of movement.  Actually, movement is a characteristic of Mark’s gospel in general.  With a mere sixteen chapters, the gospel of Mark is shorter than the other gospels, but he uses a certain Greek word over and over again.  It’s the word euqu" (euthus), which means “immediately” or “as soon as.”  It appears in Mark 41 times.  Matthew, at a distant second place, uses it only 5 times.

            Mark doesn’t like to linger too long on any one event.  He’s in a hurry; it’s time to move on!  It’s euthus this and euthus that!  “Immediately” this happened, and “at once” that happened.

            Reading Mark’s gospel is almost like watching TV with someone who likes to channel surf.  It’s not quite that bad, but it’s close.  You know what I’m talking about—someone who grabs the remote control and remains on one channel for a few seconds before deciding that it’s time to move on.  Just as you start to figure out what you’re seeing on the screen, it’s off to the next channel!  I won’t mention any names, but one of the residents at our house has been known, from time to time, to employ that practice!

            Getting back to the image of movement, Lutheran pastor Brian Stoffregen brings to our attention another Greek word that Mark uses—one he uses in various ways.  The word is afivhmi (aphiemi).  It carries with it the idea of “sending off” or “sending away.”

            Earlier in chapter 1, in verses 18 and 20 (from last week’s gospel reading), it’s used for the fishermen who leave work and family to follow Jesus.  Then in today’s text, it’s used for the fever that leaves Simon Peter’s mother-in-law, as well as for Jesus, who doesn’t permit the demons to speak.  He doesn’t give them leave to speak.  Then in chapter 2, it’s used for Jesus and God, who forgive sins (vv. 5, 7, 9, 10).

Stoffregen says, “The word seems to denote a drastic change from what was before to the present.  It is a ‘letting go’ of something in order to move on—whether that is a person leaving or letting go of family or jobs; or sicknesses and sins leaving a person.  It would seem that neither family, job, sickness, nor sins, are to control one's present life.  They have been ‘left behind.’”[1]

The common denominator in all these situations of “drastic change,” as he puts it, is that in each of them, there’s an encounter with Jesus Christ.  It’s difficult to have an encounter with him without some kind of drastic change taking place.

Our scripture reading begins with the word I’ve said that Mark tends to overuse—euthus.  Obviously, you don’t begin a story by saying:  “As soon as they left the synagogue…”  We need to look at the context, which was last week’s gospel reading.

It’s the sabbath, and Jesus is teaching in the synagogue at Capernaum.  He casts an unclean spirit from a man, which the religious authorities consider to be a serious no-no.  It’s not so much the act itself, but it’s when he does it, that they oppose.  They say that it constitutes working on the sabbath.  And that is definitely a no-no!

So now we’re told that Jesus and the two pairs of fisherman brothers leave the synagogue and go to Simon and Andrew’s house.  That’s where Jesus heals Simon’s mother-in-law.  The people wait until sundown, when the sabbath is over—when it’s safe—to bring those who are sick or demon-possessed.  And even though I’m focusing today on movement, I still have those demons to contend with!

Just as he did in the synagogue, Jesus again forbids the demons to speak.  What’s that all about?  We see here in operation something that’s been called “the messianic secret.”  Later on in the chapter, after healing a leper, Jesus “sternly” tells him, “See that you say nothing to anyone” (vv. 43-44).  Why is Jesus being so circumspect; why is he being so cautious?

No one really knows.  It’s always dangerous to try to read people’s minds.  A common opinion is that, at this point in his ministry, Jesus wants to avoid misconceptions about his intentions.  He’s in danger of being seen as yet another miracle man, one of many who roamed the countryside in those days.  Jesus has a much more important mission.  In any event, Jesus is careful to not let himself be manipulated by those with their own agendas.

For Jesus, as well as for us, there are, roughly speaking, two ways to avoid being co-opted into someone else’s plans.  One way is to become callous and hardened.  It’s to basically say, “I don’t give a…hill of beans what you think!  It’s my way or the highway!  You can take a long walk off a short pier!”  (I’m trying to be nasty in a nice way.)

Another option is the one we see Jesus choosing in verse 35.  “In the morning, while it was still very dark, he got up and went out to a deserted place, and there he prayed.”  We can avoid bending to the will of others by being defiant—or we can return to our Source.  (That’s “Source” with a capital “S”.)

            Jesus recognizes his need to get away…to be silent…to listen.  He needs to take some time away from the voices that clamor for his attention.  He needs to pray.  If Jesus himself sees the need for this, how can we possibly imagine that we don’t need it, as well?

            We’re only at this peaceful interlude for one verse.  True to his hurry-up nature, Mark quickly reports that “Simon and his companions hunted for him” (v. 36).  They “hunted” for him.  That’s a good way to put it.  The word he uses (katadiwkw, katadioko) can also mean “to track” or “to follow perseveringly.”  Peter and the boys track him down—like a pack of dogs after a rabbit!

            And it’s not just them.  “Everyone is searching for you,” they tell Jesus.  No doubt, that has many layers of meaning.  But at this point, they’re not speaking of any metaphysical levels of reality!  They’re just talking about all those folks who want Jesus to pick up where he left off yesterday.

            So, how does Jesus respond?  “You know, you guys are right.  Yesterday was a good day.  Let’s go back and do it all over again!”  Well, not quite.  Instead he says, “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” (v. 38).

            This has been called “the first dispute between Jesus and his disciples.  This dispute might be characterized as the disciples’…desire to have Jesus go back to where he was vs. Jesus’…desire to move ahead to new areas.”[2]  Jesus maintains his vision.  He doesn’t get bogged down.  He knows that it’s time to move on.

            Consequently, we end on this note:  “he went throughout Galilee, proclaiming the message in their synagogues and casting out demons” (v. 39).  The word for “casting out” (ekballw, ekballo) literally means “throwing out” the demons.  Jesus is showing them the door!

            And once again, this image of movement seems intertwined with getting rid of demons.  Is this merely a coincidence?

            It may be helpful to consider the earliest meaning of the term “demon”:  at least, as it comes to us from the Greek word daimonion (daimonion).  It originally referred to a lesser god or an idol.  Only later did a specifically evil connotation become attached to it.

            The question is posed to us:  “If we use the broad definition of daimonion as [lesser gods or idols], can we say that people are possessed [by] different gods of this world?  Can people be possessed by Greed or Perfection or Taking-Care-Of-Everyone?

A ‘demon’ doesn't have to possess people and cause them to do evil things, but a ‘demon’ can simply be anything which becomes our idol—whatever takes the place of the one, true God, is demonic.  Whatever keeps us from being the individuals or the community that God wants us to be, is demonic.”[3]

            Having said all that, it seems that moving along with Jesus is the way we must deal with the demons in our own lives.  However we view demons—as lesser gods or idols or as agents of evil—they cannot give life.  We can stay where we are (we can stay behind) and die, or we can move on with Jesus and live.  This isn’t necessarily a geographic statement, but it’s a place in our lives, our walk with Christ.

            My question is this:  do we find life in what we do?  Is what we are something that gives life to us, and to those around us?

            “A family systems approach stresses the fact that much of the unhealth in systems (and congregations) is caused by being stuck in past successes—continuing to do the same old things when they are no longer appropriate or no longer effective.  In order for Jesus to fulfill his mission, he had to leave behind his successes in Capernaum.”[4]

            Here’s a word for each of you.  Whether or not you choose to remain with the congregation after we relocate, something needs to happen before we can truly celebrate the successes of Westminster down through the years.

            We should recognize that we are experiencing a kind of death.  One of our seminary professors told us that, at the time of a person’s death (or not too far beforehand), for there to be a real sense of closure, some things should be expressed.  The exact words aren’t important, but the idea would be:  (1) goodbye, (2) I love you, and (3) forgive me.  That’s what we need to share with each other.

            Over the years, Westminster has had many successes.  No one can take them away.  The successes, nonetheless, have carried along with them burdens of ill will.

            We aren’t just another organization; we aren’t some club to which members need to pay their dues.  We are the church.  Our founder is Jesus Christ.  We don’t belong to ourselves; we belong to Christ.  But to truly be the church, we must forgive each other from the heart.  I can’t stress that enough.  Christian faith, if it’s about anything, is about death giving way to new life.  That’s why we worship on Sunday, the Lord’s Day, the Day of Resurrection.

            So, whether or not you choose to remain with us after we relocate, I ask you to move on with Jesus.  Ask him to cast the demons out of your life.  I ask for you to pray that he does that for me.

            I want the wisdom and courage to take those steps.  Still, I probably have more wisdom and courage than I want to admit.  I think we all do.

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