Epiphany 5 February 8, 2009

Isaiah 40:21-31                                                                  

1 Corinthians 9:16-23                                                       

Mark 1:29-39

 

 

You and I are sick. We may not realize it, though some do—the lucky ones. We medicate ourselves, trying to cure our sickness, but the medications only make us worse. We end up having to take medicines to treat the side effects of our medicines and then more medicines to treat those medicines. We go through therapies and then more therapies. And we only get sicker. There is another way of talking about this sickness, which is to say that we are possessed: possessed with demons.

 

 

That evening, at sundown, they brought to Jesus 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 our many demons.

 

What is our illness? What demons are we possessed with? A case study may be helpful. A few years ago a young mother and her children began coming to Holy Cross. I never managed to visit them at their home, as I like to do with newcomers. They were always “too busy” or it “wasn’t convenient” or their house was “a mess.” I only saw the father once, when he sat in the car, waiting to pick them up after church, looking angry and impatinent.

 

They attended irregularly, because like so many their lives were full of conflicting activities: scouts, sports, cheerleading, dance, trips, visits, shopping, music lessons. They were unable to pledge, the mother explained apologetically, because they had so many debts and financial obligations they were working on. I liked this woman; I liked her children. But it was impossible to get close to them. They always looked somehow frantic, desperate.

 

At the beginning of that school year, we had a potluck supper for atrium families. This new family did not appear, though they had signed up to come. Then I got a note from the mother, apologizing and saying they would not be coming to Holy Cross any more. It was “just too much” on top of everything else. She and the children had been all ready to come to the potluck, about to get into the car, when her sister had unexpectedly pulled into the drive. And that was when the young mother realized it was all just too much.

 

Now I cite this case study without knowing the details behind it. But it’s so typical. Canon Charles Lafond likes to say that a hundred years ago the evil one attacked us with things like booze and brothels—old style sins. Today the devil is more subtle. He attacks us by overloading us with good things. The “too muchness” that broke that young family’s back was all good: the activities, the lessons, the obligations they tried to fulfill. Even the things they had gotten in debt for—house, car, education, technological equipment to enhance their ability to communicate and connect—all these were good or at least attempts to secure the good. But there was just too much. Way too much.

 

On average, you and I watch television 21 hours per week. We spend another 10 hours on the Internet. We spend about 24 hours a week in the car. All that adds us to 55 hours a week. No wonder we never have enough time. A couple of Sundays ago Yvette led the discussion over breakfast in a budgeting exercise, starting with the average household income in Weare of $60,000. By the time they had got finished with just the “essentials” they were already almost $1,000 in the hole, and someone pointed out that they had made no provision for saving anything or giving anything to church or charity. Not enough time. Not enough money. Those are the symptoms of our sickness. And when you think about it, all the “medicines” we resort to in attempts to cure our sickness—various “buyings” and “doings”—just end up taking more time and more money.

 

Today, as a nation, we have reached the point of crisis. What grips us is not just a financial crisis brought on by our lifestyle—and beyond that an environmental crisis, a health care crisis, a national security crisis, an energy crisis. It is a spiritual crisis. And it is not going to be easy to get ourselves out of this crisis, especially if we try to do it with more buying and doing.

 

Canon Lafond—I’m on a bit of a Lafond kick right now, because on Friday he gave a very helpful workshop on fear which helped me coalesce my thoughts on this subject—has suggested that we meet this spiritual crisis by working on three S’s: silence, simplicity and Sabbath. I’m going to discuss this with the Vestry this morning, and if they agree, we will try to put together something for all of us to use during Lent to bring these three S’s into our lives.

 

Take silence: What would life be like during the 40 days of Lent if we turned off the background noise of media? No mindless music or talk show chatter. No advertisements to induce us to spend more and do more. No “breaking news” to make us anxious. No listening for the cell phone. Could we “detoxify” ourselves from all this? It would be hard. We are addicted to “noise.”

 

Then simplicity: What things do we possess, what activities do we participate in, that end up taking more in time and money than they return in true wellbeing and happiness? Can we get rid of them, maybe just put them aside for 40 days? Again, not easy. We are talking about demonic possession here—truly we are.

 

And Sabbath: the one of the Ten Commandments we never remember, or think applies only to Jews or has to do with coming to church. Sabbath is the command that one day in seven we just rest. Do nothing, not even chores—not even shopping or traveling, heaven forbid! Just rest, wonder at the goodness of creation and the love of God. Could we, during Lent, observe Sabbath? Observe half-Sabbath?

 

The gospel reading recounts the end of Jesus’s first day of ministry. It has been an incredible day, packed with miracles and wonders. Jesus has drawn huge crowds. And what does he do afterwards: silence, simplicity and Sabbath. He withdraws to a deserted place to be in prayer with God. He needs to do this so that the world’s sickness, the world’s demonic possession will not overwhelm him too. If Jesus needed this, don’t we?