Dear friends,
What was this past week like for you? If it felt especially hard–and for no particular reason–know you’re not alone. I’m holding you close to my heart today. And God is holding us all.
Today’s worship service, in its entirety, may be viewed here:
If you’d prefer to listen to just the gospel reading and sermon, you may do so here:
https://soundcloud.com/stacey-nalean-carlson/fly-free-a-sermon-for-the-4th-sunday-after-epiphany
The sermon is based on Mark 1:21-28.
21[Jesus and his disciples] went to Capernaum; and when the sabbath came, he entered the synagogue and taught.22They were astounded at his teaching, for he taught them as one having authority, and not as the scribes. 23Just then there was in their synagogue a man with an unclean spirit, 24and he cried out, “What have you to do with us, Jesus of Nazareth? Have you come to destroy us? I know who you are, the Holy One of God.” 25But Jesus rebuked him, saying, “Be silent, and come out of him!” 26And the unclean spirit, convulsing him and crying with a loud voice, came out of him. 27They were all amazed, and they kept on asking one another, “What is this? A new teaching—with authority! He commands even the unclean spirits, and they obey him.” 28At once his fame began to spread throughout the surrounding region of Galilee.
Beloved of God, grace and peace to you in the name of Jesus. Amen.
I don’t know quite what it is this week, but I have a feeling I’m not alone in this sense of profound weariness and heartache. A friend described it as a heavy cloud over her all week. Tanzina Vega, host of the Takeaway on NPR, described it in a recent viral tweet as hitting the pandemic wall.
https://twitter.com/tanzinavega/status/1349846918726361088?s=11
So, I’ve been doing what I do when the days are hard…and that’s turning to poetry–the poetry of Mary Oliver in particular. I have a book of hers called Thirst. This stunning poem captured my attention this week. It’s entitled, After Her Death.
I am trying to find the lesson / for tomorrow. Matthew something. / Which lectionary? I have not / forgotten the Way, but, a little, / the way to the Way. The trees keep whispering / peace, peace, and the birds / in the shallows are full of the / bodies of small fish and are / content. They open their wings / so easily, and fly. So. It is still / possible. / I open the book / which the strange, difficult, beautiful church / has given me. To Matthew. Anywhere.
If we were to entitle our own poem, it would not be After Her Death, but After So Much Death. After All Their Deaths. Today, after the deaths of over two million people worldwide, each one God’s beloved, each one cherished and grieved by those left to try to make sense of it all…we, too, open the book which the church has given us. Not to Matthew, but to Mark. Perhaps, having hit the pandemic wall, we, too, have not forgotten the Way, but, a little, the way to the Way.
Mark, as we open that book, would have us know that Jesus—the Way—makes his way to us, wasting no time. We’re still in the first chapter of Mark. In a mere twenty verses Jesus has been baptized, named as God’s Beloved, driven into the wilderness, and tempted by Satan. He has proclaimed the kingdom of God has come near and has called his first disciples to follow him and to fish for people.
Now, with no hesitation, Jesus leads his disciples into the synagogue at Capernaum where Jesus begins to teach with authority. Jesus doesn’t set up shop somewhere waiting for the people to discover him, to come to him, to decide that he is the help they need in the midst of their suffering and confusion. No, the Way makes his way to God’s people. He shows up where they are. He teaches them with authority so that they might know the Truth. And immediately, he’s challenged.
Jesus is challenged in the synagogue, in the church, among the very people he has come to call to repentance and to belief in the good news. An unclean spirit has possessed one of God’s beloved and has infiltrated the entire community—showing up at the synagogue to wreak havoc and destruction even there. The unclean spirit cries out in response to Jesus’ teaching, What have you to do with us, Jesus of Nazareth? Have you come to destroy us? I know who you are, the Holy One of God.
The unclean spirit knows the Way—knows the authority of Jesus in a way that the community is only beginning to understand. The unclean spirit recognizes Jesus as the Holy One of God AND recognizes Jesus’ intention—to, yes, destroy all that keeps God’s beloved from abundant life.
Pastor Steve Garnaas-Homes writes, The forces of evil know Jesus is out for nothing less than a loving, healing assault on the power of evil itself. Every healing by Jesus is a cosmic act, an insurrection against the Empire of fear and death. (Read more here.)
Be silent, Jesus responds to the unclean spirit, and come out of him. And the unclean spirit obeys. And God’s beloved ones are set free, liberated from a demonic power that has the gall to show up at the very heart of the worshiping community intent on chaos and destruction.
Perhaps what is really at the heart of my hopelessness this week is the reality of the unclean spirits revealed anew during this pandemic time. Rev. Priscilla Austin writes, There are evil forces in this world; I have seen them, encountered them and witnessed their work both from near and afar. You have as well. You might recognize them as racism, sexism, homophobia, patriarchy, Christian nationalism, anti-Semitism, Islamophobia and the list goes on. (Read more here.)
Unclean spirits are within and among us making this pandemic time harder than it had to be, dividing us from one another, keeping us from working together for the common good, causing us to look on one another with suspicion and, perhaps above all else, making us forget the way to the Way.
The way to the Way is a one-way street from heaven to earth. Jesus comes to us. In the light of his love, the trees whisper peace. In the glory of his provision, the birds are content and when they are done feeding, they open their wings and fly.
It is possible to fly. It is possible to be free even now. Even as we grieve. Even as we hit the wall. Even as we become acutely aware of the unclean spirits in our midst intent on destroying us. There is One who comes to destroy all those powers that seek to destroy us, One who wastes no time silencing them, One who casts them out of our warring, discontented, flightless bodies so that we might soar.
Be silent, Jesus commands the unclean spirits, and come out of these beloved ones.
Let the word of Jesus, Pastor Garnaas-Holmes writes, cut into you. With love that overrules any authority on this earth, let it take your breath away, and give you new breath. Let it uncover something in you. Let it, with authority, ask of you. Let it author a new story in you.
Let us pray. Jesus, we see you casting out the unclean spirits that deceive and destroy us and filling us instead with your Spirit—a spirit of freedom and truth, a spirit of gentleness and generosity, a spirit of love that builds up rather than mere knowledge that puffs up. Thank you for authoring a new story in us, making your way to us so that we might know the Way and fly free. Amen.