From grasshoppers to eagles
Commentary
"Does God really care about me? Does anyone care about me?" Most pastors have heard these questions. Things begin to go wrong. Soon it seems that anything that could go wrong does go wrong. The death of loved ones, divorce, financial failures, accidents, bad health -- the whole range of events that can discourage and paralyze us. People get pulled down into a dark pit, and in there you can't see beyond yourself and the pit. Psychology calls it depression and admits that some events can trigger natural and "normal depression." Whatever you call it, whenever it may come, and however it may be occasioned, this experience of "bottoming out" is common.
When circumstances seem to conspire against us, we naturally turn to God or some fundamental source of reality. We want to know why all this has happened to us. We want to know if there is anything or anyone beyond this mess on whom we can rely. Like Job, we feel we are seated on a dung heap, shaking our fists at the heavens. It is then that those questions bubble up out of our souls: "Does God really care about me? Does anyone care about me?" These are not necessarily the questions only unbelievers ask; they are questions almost every believer asks at some time or another.
The Christian faith claims to be a resource in just such times as these. We believe that the gospel provides a refuge in times of trouble and a way out of desperate despair. The Christian faith is a ladder dropped down into that pit and provides us a way out when everything else has failed. However, it is not that easy, is it? Pastors do not cure another's depression with words like these. Nonetheless, what we can do is to help people acquire resources for those tough times. Preachers can nurture a confidence in God's care, a care that does not abandon us when everything is going up in smoke. This Sunday provides an opportunity to contribute to our congregation's confidence in God's inexhaustible care and concern for us.
Isaiah 40:21-31
This passage stands at the beginning of the second part of the book of Isaiah. It is part of the introduction to the message of the anonymous prophet of the exile. Chapter 40 opens with that famous announcement that God is about to free the exiles from their alienation and lead them back home again. That announcement continues from verse 1 through 11. Then another question is addressed: Is God mighty enough to accomplish this task? Can God influence the course of world events in such a way as to weaken the Babylonian grip on the displaced people of Israel? The prophet answers that question in an extended description of God's absolute sovereignty in verses 12-31. Indeed, that theme of God's sovereignty is one of the major themes of Second Isaiah.
The reading constitutes one segment of this elaborate affirmation of the Lord's domination over all things. It begins in verse 21 with a series of rhetorical questions that ask, in effect, "Don't you already know this?" Those questions are answered in a colorful description of God's might when compared to puny humans (vv. 22-24). God stands over the whole of creation, and nothing in all creation is comparable to the divine power. Kings and princes are nothing at all when matched against God's power. God can blow all humans away like we can blow a blade of grass off our arm.
Amid this poetic depiction of the divine power, humans are called "grasshoppers." What an unusual metaphor for the weakness and subservience of humans. When you think about it, grasshoppers are indeed most vulnerable. They really have no way to protect themselves, as do other creatures. While they are skilled in jumping, they are in reality slow and clumsy. They can be crushed with the least little force. Most of us have never thought of ourselves as grasshoppers and probably would rather not do so. Still, it is a powerful image for the vulnerability and frailty of human life. Perhaps in those moments when we are feeling absolutely powerless against life's circumstances, the image of grasshopper makes more sense.
This comparison of the divine and human power comes to a climax in verses 25 and 26 with the questions, "To whom then will you compare me, or who is my equal?" The answer by now is obvious -- absolutely no one or nothing. To make the point certain however, verse 26 offers another statement of the Creator's sovereignty.
The preacher-prophet now applies this humbling ride through the evidence of God's sovereignty to the lives of the people. In the light of who God is, how can you possibly think that the Lord doesn't know you inside out? Would the Creator be ignorant of the creation? Would the Creator be entirely indifferent to the creation? Once again, you have heard all this before -- right from the beginning. Verse 28 summarizes it all. God is above all time, creator of everything, forever filled with tireless energy, and has knowledge that is unfathomable.
The final verses suggest then what this God can do for us: power to the faint and strength to the powerless. Even the young will finally tire, but not those who rely on God. Those who tap into the divine power fly like eagles and never weary. This is possible only because of who God is. If the Lord is this absolute Sovereign, then surely God can supply our needs, which seem puny when compared with the limitless mastery of the divine.
This passage skillfully carries us from thinking of ourselves as helpless grasshoppers to imagining ourselves as soaring eagles. From grasshoppers to eagles. Within ourselves we have no more power than a grasshopper, whose hops at best are two or three feet. With God's power, however, we are eagles who reach into the blue and fly for miles. If we imagine that God cannot possibly know or care about our situation, we are doomed to hopping through life. If, on the other hand, we trust God to strengthen us, the sky's the limit!
1 Corinthians 9:16-23
Does God really care about me? We would not immediately think of this Pauline passage as an answer to this question. Yet the passage reads differently when we ask a key question about Paul's witness in these verses. However, we have first to get clear what Paul is saying.
In chapter 9 Paul seems to be pointing out that he has not claimed certain rights of his as an apostle. He may be saying this to support his authority for offering a solution to the question of eating food offered to idols in chapter 7; or, he may be addressing a new problem of how the Corinthians view him. Surely one of the major concerns of this chapter is to explain that, even though he may be entitled to some form of compensation for his ministry (at least subsistence), he does not claim that right for himself. His statement in 9:3 hints that there are some in Corinth who are suspicious of Paul's motives. Whatever his reasons for doing so, Paul rehearses the fundamental theories of his ministry. Today we would say that Paul tries in every way he can to identify with, to become one with, those to whom he is ministering.
First, however, he must clear the air about one thing. He is not in this business for any reward. If it were entirely of his own choosing, his ministry would have rewards. However, since it isn't his own doing, the exercise of the ministry he's been given is its own reward. By not claiming certain privileges and prerogatives for himself (e.g., making a living, see 9:1-6), he intends to demonstrate that the gospel is "free of charge" (vv. 16-18). His argument seems to be that to offer others a free gospel he cannot ask that others support him and reimburse him. His services must be freely given, since the gospel itself is free.
Now Paul turns to his strategy for ministry, which he feels is dictated by the gospel itself. First, he establishes that he is free and not dependent on anyone or obligated to others in ways that restrict his freedom (v. 19a). Although he is free, he has subjected himself to others, becoming their slave. He is a free man who freely enslaves himself to others. This radical move has only one purpose, namely, that he might better communicate the gospel. Now (vv. 20-22a) Paul goes through a series of ways in which he identifies himself with others in order to share the good news of God's act in Christ. Paul willingly becomes each of these: Jew, one under the law, one outside the law, and weak. Jew and those under the law are synonymous; and those outside the law surely means the Gentiles. With both those under the law and those outside the law, Paul stretches himself beyond his actual status as one freed from the law but under Christ's law. In verse 22b Paul sums up all of this by saying, "I have become all things to all people, that I might by all means save some." This complete identification with others is for the sake of the gospel, and that is reward enough for Paul.
This fascinating explication of Paul's understanding of ministry takes on a new depth if we ask one question of it: Why does Paul choose identification as a means of communicating the gospel? The answer is found back in 9:1. The basis of his apostleship is his encounter with Christ. Christ's full identification with humanity was the means by which God chose to reveal the divine identity to humans. As Jesus took on himself the whole human experience, even that of suffering death, so Paul chooses identification with people in different conditions as the means by which the news of the divine revelation in Christ is spread. Paul himself speaks of Christ's identification in the hymn found in Philippians 2:5-11. Christ "emptied himself, taking the form of a slave, being born in human likeness. And being found in human form, he humbled himself and became obedient to the point of death -- even death on a cross."
Paul identifies with all people in their condition, because Christ identified with the human condition. If God chose by means of Christ to become fully identified with our situation, how can we doubt that God cares about whatever it is we suffer? God cared enough for us that the divine Son went through the whole range of human experiences on our behalf. Whatever we experience, we can say in confidence that God in Christ has been there before us. Of course, God cares and through that care intends for us to soar like eagles.
Mark 1:29-39
The Gospel lesson presents us with another dimension of God's care for us. This story follows on the heels of the lesson from Mark for last week. In the story read last Sunday, we saw Jesus casting out a demon. This week the lesson is comprised of several bits, all of which have to do with the continuation of Jesus' Galilean ministry. In general the reading weaves together four patches of narrative: The healing of Peter's mother-in-law (vv. 29-31), a general description of Jesus' healing ministry (presumably in Capernaum, vv. 32-34), Jesus' withdrawal and the disciples' finding him (vv. 35-38), and another general report of healing, this time throughout Galilee (v. 39).
Surely, Mark butts this story of Jesus' healing Peter's mother-in-law up against the exorcism in verses 21-28 for a reason. While the first story demonstrates Jesus' dealing with supernatural forces of evil, the second is a healing of a common human ailment, namely, a fever. Jesus cares about this woman who is stricken with what we might call a common flu bug. It is a rather unusual story in the sense that it deals with one of the disciples' relatives. (See 1 Corinthians 9:5 for Paul's statement concerning Peter's marriage.) The healing itself is a bare bones episode without elaboration. The authority we saw in Jesus' actions in 1:21-28 is evident again in the seeming ease with which the cure is accomplished. Jesus simply takes the woman's hand and lifts her up. She immediately goes about the task of serving her houseguests, evidence that the healing was effective.
Verses 32-34 recount how "the whole city" came out to avail themselves of Jesus' presence. (Mark is fond of an occasional exaggeration; see verse 37.) After the sun sets and the Sabbath is ended, the people came, bringing their afflicted loved ones along with those who were possessed by demons. Mark wants us to imagine Jesus healing all sorts of diseases and afflictions so as to demonstrate the breadth of his capacities for curing human ailments. As he commanded the unclean spirit to be silent in 1:25, here he silences the demons as he often does in the Markan account (e.g., 5:43). This silencing of the demons is part of the feature of Mark's Gospel commonly known as the "messianic secret." Since the demons know Jesus' true identity, silencing them is one aspect of Mark's understanding that Jesus did not want word of his identity spread abroad. Silencing the demons may, however, also have to do with robbing them of their power. It is important to note that demon possession is included in the range of human afflictions. We might say the emotional ailments are included along with the physical ones.
Mark clearly emphasizes the healing power embodied in Jesus. Yet in verse 35 he squeezes in a recognition that Jesus is dependent on God for this power. His popularity is such, however, that he can hardly find time to be alone, and Peter and the others go out searching for him. Having found him, they report that "everyone is searching for you." Jesus, however, chooses not to return to the city but to lead his disciples into other areas. He will not be held captive to one region and pursues his ministry elsewhere. Verse 39 is another of Mark's general statements of Jesus' ministry, which is comprised of both preaching and casting out demons.
What is Mark trying to accomplish in this litany of healing stories that comprises Jesus early ministry in 1:21--3:12? Surely the evangelist hopes to impress us with Jesus' authority and power. Yet something more is going on here that we should not overlook. These healing stories express Jesus' concern for those who are oppressed by illness and held captive by demons. In other words, the Gospel story portrays God's radical care for the human condition. For Mark, this is part of what is meant by the nearness of the "kingdom of God." When God rules the world, all human illness, all afflictions, and all demonic possession are ended. As the climax of the Revelation of John states, "[God] will wipe every tear from their eyes. Death will be no more; mourning and crying and pain will be no more ..." (Revelation 21:4). Illness and pain are not part of God's intention for human existence. Rather, they are evidence that the creation has gone afoul. For the Jews of Jesus' time, suffering was a direct consequence of sin. We might say that sin has so distorted the whole of creation that pain and hurt rule rather than God.
Therefore, Jesus' healing ministry is an expression of God's care for our physical condition. God doesn't want us to suffer pain and affliction; God doesn't want humans to be enslaved by emotional powers beyond our control. While the divine care most certainly includes our spiritual welfare, Jesus' healings demonstrate the divine care for our physical condition as well. Too often we are inclined to believe that God brings illness and affliction on as some sort of test of our faith. What we sometimes fail to acknowledge is that when we suffer, God suffers. When we hurt, God hurts. When we are depressed and hopeless, God identifies with us. Christ shows us a divine care that seeks to free us from all of this so that we might "mount up with wings as eagles." So great is God's love for us that God would transform us grasshoppers into eagles.
FIRST LESSON FOCUS
By Elizabeth Achtemeier
Isaiah 40:21-31
This passage makes up four stanzas of the longer poem of Isaiah 40:12-31. The poem is a soaring hymn of praise of the God of Israel, who is the incomparable Lord over all nature and history. It is uttered by the prophet whom we call the Second Isaiah, whose complete words are found in Isaiah chapters 40 through 55, and it is spoken sometime shortly after 538 B.C. to the Israelites who are exiles in Babylonia. To sense the full flavor of the stated text, it would be well for the preacher to study the whole of 40:12-31.
Our text starts off with responses to previous questions. Verses 12 and 13 ask who created the earth, without any direction from anyone else. Verse 15 asks before what God are the nations of the earth, including Babylonia, as nothing. And finally, verse 18 asks what idol of the Babylonians or of anyone else can be compared to such a God. Our text answers those questions by asking more questions. Have you not known, Israel? Haven't you heard the answers from all of your traditions that span the years?
Surely you know the Creator who sits above the firmament in the heavens and who rules over the fate of all nations, the One who can plant kingdoms and then destroy them (vv. 22-24), the One who cannot be compared to any other god or to anything in heaven or on earth or under the earth (v. 25; cf. Exodus 20:4). That one incomparable God is the Holy One of Israel (v. 25). Finally, the name of God is given, and by that very name of "the Holy One," his incomparable nature is confessed. For to say that God is "holy" is to confess that he is totally Other, qualitatively different from any person or any thing in all creation, set apart, transcendantly different, unlike all the things of the created universe.
There are a lot of people in our time and society who think to identify the divine with something or someone in the created order. They think God is identical with the mysterious powers of vitality that they sense in the natural world, or that he inhabits the supposed power in a pyramid or crystal. Others sometimes say that God is their inner conscience or their real Self, to be found by introspection and turning inward upon themselves. Or God is the power in music or an artistic work, or he is incarnated in some new guru or supposed messiah like Sun Myung Moon or other cult leader. But no. God is not any of those or in them. To be sure, God works in our world, but he cannot be identified with anything in the world. He is "Holy God," solely himself, Other than all he has made.
The Babylonians worshiped the stars and other astral deities; the ancient Egyptians worshiped the sun. But to those Israelites who have fallen captive to the empire of Babylonia, our text puts worship of the sun and moon and stars in its proper place. Those are not gods, it declares. Rather, they are the handiwork of the one Holy One who made them all (v. 26; cf. Genesis 1:14-16). They would not appear in the night sky unless the Holy One made them appear, and because the incomparable God is mightier than all else, he can call them out by name and make sure that not one of them is missing.
That is not only reassurance to the Israelite exiles in Babylonia, however. It is also reassurance to us. Our fate is not in the stars, and they do not control our life, despite the fact that a few of our government leaders and movie stars swear by the forecasts of astrologers. No. Our lives rest in the hands of the Holy One who has made the stars and sun and moon. And all of those wonders of deep space that our scientists now can see by their telescopes and show to us on television -- the exploding stars, the millions of galaxies, the black holes, the swirling flares of light years ago -- all of those are the creation of our one sovereign, holy God, who created and commands them all.
Given all that to be true, our prophet therefore asks his despairing and captive compatriots why they think God has deserted them or that he has been unjust toward them. "Why do you think your way is hid from the Lord or that he does not see your plight?" asks Second Isaiah. And once again, the prophet appeals to all that Israel has known of God in her past, repeating in verse 28 the same questions that he asked in verse 21. "Have you not known? Have you not heard?" Surely, you a people, whom God delivered from slavery in Egypt and guided through the wilderness and with whom the Lord entered into covenant as his chosen people -- surely, you cannot think God is powerless now or that he has forsaken you. And surely you, the people to whom God sent a davidic king and for whom he raised up prophets to guide your ways -- surely you have not lost all of your trust in the one Lord of nature and history who has been with you from beginning and who, indeed, is with you now!
The call of Second Isaiah's message is, you see, for us to remember. Remember all the way that the Lord has brought us. Remember that he loved us so much that he sent his beloved Son to die for us, and thereby to forgive us all our wrongs. Remember that he had the might to raise that Son from the dead and thus to give us eternal life. Remember how many of you have known God's comfort in times of sorrow, how many of you have lived from God's guidance through all the vicissitudes of your daily life. Remember the lives the Lord has transformed, the church he has established, the good works he has inspired. Surely, we too have known, haven't we, and we have heard from the beginning? Therefore not one of us here this morning should despair or believe that God has deserted us or that he has not the power to fulfill all our true needs.
And so the message of our text, good Christians, is to "wait for the Lord." In the darkest depths of our trouble and sorrow, wait for the Lord. At the height of some joy or success, wait for the Lord. At the birth of a child or at the end of a life, wait for the Lord. In every circumstance of our daily round, filled as it is with turmoils and anxiety, peaceful moments and good, pain and comfort, heights and depths and all the plains and valleys that fill it in between, wait for the Lord.
But what does our text mean that the Israelites and we should wait? We don't like to wait. We're a busy people, rushing about, buying and selling, hurrying and scurrying hither and yon, and waiting to us is just a waste of time. But what Second Isaiah was telling his compatriots was, "Wait for the coming action of the Lord." God is not sitting still in his heaven, just observing everything on earth. God is active, always on the move, always doing new deeds and working to fulfill his loving purpose. We sometimes think God is just an object, sitting there, waiting for us to discover him. But no. God is active; God is working, God is constantly moving history and nature toward his goal of his kingdom. And in his purpose, Second Isaiah told the Israelites, is his plan to set you free from exile, to give you a new exodus out of captivity, and a new journey in which you will return to your homes. In short, God was working to save his people.
And do you know? He's working to save you and me too. Woven into his ongoing plan is his desire to give us all eternal life -- to lead us steadily through the trials and joys of our lives to the good and abundant life of his kingdom, to bring all of us children home at last to everlasting companionship with himself.
Do you think this incomparable God of ours cannot do that? Our text addresses that doubt also, because, you see, this God of ours is not like human beings. As he once said through his prophet Hosea, "I am God and not man, the Holy One in your midst" (Hosea 11:9). So the Lord of all does not faint or grow weary, says our text, and he understands exactly how to work his purpose. He can indeed give power to all of us who think we cannot go on, and he can increase our strength when we feel too feeble. Human beings get tired and discouraged. Even young people and strong warriors become exhausted. But God is never exhausted from his working. He even neither slumbers nor sleeps (Psalm 124:4). And if we will wait on him, good Christians, and depend on his working in our lives, and look to him in faith for our sustaining power, then he will renew our strength. Sometimes he will so imbue us with his Spirit of power that we will feel as if we can soar up on wings like eagles. Other times we will find that we are able to run the race of life and not grow weary. But most important, in the power of our loving Lord, if we wait upon him in faith, we will be able to walk steadily -- day by day, one foot in front of the other, our steps sure, our spirits at peace, and our faces turned toward God's goal of his good kingdom with its joyful life everlasting.
When circumstances seem to conspire against us, we naturally turn to God or some fundamental source of reality. We want to know why all this has happened to us. We want to know if there is anything or anyone beyond this mess on whom we can rely. Like Job, we feel we are seated on a dung heap, shaking our fists at the heavens. It is then that those questions bubble up out of our souls: "Does God really care about me? Does anyone care about me?" These are not necessarily the questions only unbelievers ask; they are questions almost every believer asks at some time or another.
The Christian faith claims to be a resource in just such times as these. We believe that the gospel provides a refuge in times of trouble and a way out of desperate despair. The Christian faith is a ladder dropped down into that pit and provides us a way out when everything else has failed. However, it is not that easy, is it? Pastors do not cure another's depression with words like these. Nonetheless, what we can do is to help people acquire resources for those tough times. Preachers can nurture a confidence in God's care, a care that does not abandon us when everything is going up in smoke. This Sunday provides an opportunity to contribute to our congregation's confidence in God's inexhaustible care and concern for us.
Isaiah 40:21-31
This passage stands at the beginning of the second part of the book of Isaiah. It is part of the introduction to the message of the anonymous prophet of the exile. Chapter 40 opens with that famous announcement that God is about to free the exiles from their alienation and lead them back home again. That announcement continues from verse 1 through 11. Then another question is addressed: Is God mighty enough to accomplish this task? Can God influence the course of world events in such a way as to weaken the Babylonian grip on the displaced people of Israel? The prophet answers that question in an extended description of God's absolute sovereignty in verses 12-31. Indeed, that theme of God's sovereignty is one of the major themes of Second Isaiah.
The reading constitutes one segment of this elaborate affirmation of the Lord's domination over all things. It begins in verse 21 with a series of rhetorical questions that ask, in effect, "Don't you already know this?" Those questions are answered in a colorful description of God's might when compared to puny humans (vv. 22-24). God stands over the whole of creation, and nothing in all creation is comparable to the divine power. Kings and princes are nothing at all when matched against God's power. God can blow all humans away like we can blow a blade of grass off our arm.
Amid this poetic depiction of the divine power, humans are called "grasshoppers." What an unusual metaphor for the weakness and subservience of humans. When you think about it, grasshoppers are indeed most vulnerable. They really have no way to protect themselves, as do other creatures. While they are skilled in jumping, they are in reality slow and clumsy. They can be crushed with the least little force. Most of us have never thought of ourselves as grasshoppers and probably would rather not do so. Still, it is a powerful image for the vulnerability and frailty of human life. Perhaps in those moments when we are feeling absolutely powerless against life's circumstances, the image of grasshopper makes more sense.
This comparison of the divine and human power comes to a climax in verses 25 and 26 with the questions, "To whom then will you compare me, or who is my equal?" The answer by now is obvious -- absolutely no one or nothing. To make the point certain however, verse 26 offers another statement of the Creator's sovereignty.
The preacher-prophet now applies this humbling ride through the evidence of God's sovereignty to the lives of the people. In the light of who God is, how can you possibly think that the Lord doesn't know you inside out? Would the Creator be ignorant of the creation? Would the Creator be entirely indifferent to the creation? Once again, you have heard all this before -- right from the beginning. Verse 28 summarizes it all. God is above all time, creator of everything, forever filled with tireless energy, and has knowledge that is unfathomable.
The final verses suggest then what this God can do for us: power to the faint and strength to the powerless. Even the young will finally tire, but not those who rely on God. Those who tap into the divine power fly like eagles and never weary. This is possible only because of who God is. If the Lord is this absolute Sovereign, then surely God can supply our needs, which seem puny when compared with the limitless mastery of the divine.
This passage skillfully carries us from thinking of ourselves as helpless grasshoppers to imagining ourselves as soaring eagles. From grasshoppers to eagles. Within ourselves we have no more power than a grasshopper, whose hops at best are two or three feet. With God's power, however, we are eagles who reach into the blue and fly for miles. If we imagine that God cannot possibly know or care about our situation, we are doomed to hopping through life. If, on the other hand, we trust God to strengthen us, the sky's the limit!
1 Corinthians 9:16-23
Does God really care about me? We would not immediately think of this Pauline passage as an answer to this question. Yet the passage reads differently when we ask a key question about Paul's witness in these verses. However, we have first to get clear what Paul is saying.
In chapter 9 Paul seems to be pointing out that he has not claimed certain rights of his as an apostle. He may be saying this to support his authority for offering a solution to the question of eating food offered to idols in chapter 7; or, he may be addressing a new problem of how the Corinthians view him. Surely one of the major concerns of this chapter is to explain that, even though he may be entitled to some form of compensation for his ministry (at least subsistence), he does not claim that right for himself. His statement in 9:3 hints that there are some in Corinth who are suspicious of Paul's motives. Whatever his reasons for doing so, Paul rehearses the fundamental theories of his ministry. Today we would say that Paul tries in every way he can to identify with, to become one with, those to whom he is ministering.
First, however, he must clear the air about one thing. He is not in this business for any reward. If it were entirely of his own choosing, his ministry would have rewards. However, since it isn't his own doing, the exercise of the ministry he's been given is its own reward. By not claiming certain privileges and prerogatives for himself (e.g., making a living, see 9:1-6), he intends to demonstrate that the gospel is "free of charge" (vv. 16-18). His argument seems to be that to offer others a free gospel he cannot ask that others support him and reimburse him. His services must be freely given, since the gospel itself is free.
Now Paul turns to his strategy for ministry, which he feels is dictated by the gospel itself. First, he establishes that he is free and not dependent on anyone or obligated to others in ways that restrict his freedom (v. 19a). Although he is free, he has subjected himself to others, becoming their slave. He is a free man who freely enslaves himself to others. This radical move has only one purpose, namely, that he might better communicate the gospel. Now (vv. 20-22a) Paul goes through a series of ways in which he identifies himself with others in order to share the good news of God's act in Christ. Paul willingly becomes each of these: Jew, one under the law, one outside the law, and weak. Jew and those under the law are synonymous; and those outside the law surely means the Gentiles. With both those under the law and those outside the law, Paul stretches himself beyond his actual status as one freed from the law but under Christ's law. In verse 22b Paul sums up all of this by saying, "I have become all things to all people, that I might by all means save some." This complete identification with others is for the sake of the gospel, and that is reward enough for Paul.
This fascinating explication of Paul's understanding of ministry takes on a new depth if we ask one question of it: Why does Paul choose identification as a means of communicating the gospel? The answer is found back in 9:1. The basis of his apostleship is his encounter with Christ. Christ's full identification with humanity was the means by which God chose to reveal the divine identity to humans. As Jesus took on himself the whole human experience, even that of suffering death, so Paul chooses identification with people in different conditions as the means by which the news of the divine revelation in Christ is spread. Paul himself speaks of Christ's identification in the hymn found in Philippians 2:5-11. Christ "emptied himself, taking the form of a slave, being born in human likeness. And being found in human form, he humbled himself and became obedient to the point of death -- even death on a cross."
Paul identifies with all people in their condition, because Christ identified with the human condition. If God chose by means of Christ to become fully identified with our situation, how can we doubt that God cares about whatever it is we suffer? God cared enough for us that the divine Son went through the whole range of human experiences on our behalf. Whatever we experience, we can say in confidence that God in Christ has been there before us. Of course, God cares and through that care intends for us to soar like eagles.
Mark 1:29-39
The Gospel lesson presents us with another dimension of God's care for us. This story follows on the heels of the lesson from Mark for last week. In the story read last Sunday, we saw Jesus casting out a demon. This week the lesson is comprised of several bits, all of which have to do with the continuation of Jesus' Galilean ministry. In general the reading weaves together four patches of narrative: The healing of Peter's mother-in-law (vv. 29-31), a general description of Jesus' healing ministry (presumably in Capernaum, vv. 32-34), Jesus' withdrawal and the disciples' finding him (vv. 35-38), and another general report of healing, this time throughout Galilee (v. 39).
Surely, Mark butts this story of Jesus' healing Peter's mother-in-law up against the exorcism in verses 21-28 for a reason. While the first story demonstrates Jesus' dealing with supernatural forces of evil, the second is a healing of a common human ailment, namely, a fever. Jesus cares about this woman who is stricken with what we might call a common flu bug. It is a rather unusual story in the sense that it deals with one of the disciples' relatives. (See 1 Corinthians 9:5 for Paul's statement concerning Peter's marriage.) The healing itself is a bare bones episode without elaboration. The authority we saw in Jesus' actions in 1:21-28 is evident again in the seeming ease with which the cure is accomplished. Jesus simply takes the woman's hand and lifts her up. She immediately goes about the task of serving her houseguests, evidence that the healing was effective.
Verses 32-34 recount how "the whole city" came out to avail themselves of Jesus' presence. (Mark is fond of an occasional exaggeration; see verse 37.) After the sun sets and the Sabbath is ended, the people came, bringing their afflicted loved ones along with those who were possessed by demons. Mark wants us to imagine Jesus healing all sorts of diseases and afflictions so as to demonstrate the breadth of his capacities for curing human ailments. As he commanded the unclean spirit to be silent in 1:25, here he silences the demons as he often does in the Markan account (e.g., 5:43). This silencing of the demons is part of the feature of Mark's Gospel commonly known as the "messianic secret." Since the demons know Jesus' true identity, silencing them is one aspect of Mark's understanding that Jesus did not want word of his identity spread abroad. Silencing the demons may, however, also have to do with robbing them of their power. It is important to note that demon possession is included in the range of human afflictions. We might say the emotional ailments are included along with the physical ones.
Mark clearly emphasizes the healing power embodied in Jesus. Yet in verse 35 he squeezes in a recognition that Jesus is dependent on God for this power. His popularity is such, however, that he can hardly find time to be alone, and Peter and the others go out searching for him. Having found him, they report that "everyone is searching for you." Jesus, however, chooses not to return to the city but to lead his disciples into other areas. He will not be held captive to one region and pursues his ministry elsewhere. Verse 39 is another of Mark's general statements of Jesus' ministry, which is comprised of both preaching and casting out demons.
What is Mark trying to accomplish in this litany of healing stories that comprises Jesus early ministry in 1:21--3:12? Surely the evangelist hopes to impress us with Jesus' authority and power. Yet something more is going on here that we should not overlook. These healing stories express Jesus' concern for those who are oppressed by illness and held captive by demons. In other words, the Gospel story portrays God's radical care for the human condition. For Mark, this is part of what is meant by the nearness of the "kingdom of God." When God rules the world, all human illness, all afflictions, and all demonic possession are ended. As the climax of the Revelation of John states, "[God] will wipe every tear from their eyes. Death will be no more; mourning and crying and pain will be no more ..." (Revelation 21:4). Illness and pain are not part of God's intention for human existence. Rather, they are evidence that the creation has gone afoul. For the Jews of Jesus' time, suffering was a direct consequence of sin. We might say that sin has so distorted the whole of creation that pain and hurt rule rather than God.
Therefore, Jesus' healing ministry is an expression of God's care for our physical condition. God doesn't want us to suffer pain and affliction; God doesn't want humans to be enslaved by emotional powers beyond our control. While the divine care most certainly includes our spiritual welfare, Jesus' healings demonstrate the divine care for our physical condition as well. Too often we are inclined to believe that God brings illness and affliction on as some sort of test of our faith. What we sometimes fail to acknowledge is that when we suffer, God suffers. When we hurt, God hurts. When we are depressed and hopeless, God identifies with us. Christ shows us a divine care that seeks to free us from all of this so that we might "mount up with wings as eagles." So great is God's love for us that God would transform us grasshoppers into eagles.
FIRST LESSON FOCUS
By Elizabeth Achtemeier
Isaiah 40:21-31
This passage makes up four stanzas of the longer poem of Isaiah 40:12-31. The poem is a soaring hymn of praise of the God of Israel, who is the incomparable Lord over all nature and history. It is uttered by the prophet whom we call the Second Isaiah, whose complete words are found in Isaiah chapters 40 through 55, and it is spoken sometime shortly after 538 B.C. to the Israelites who are exiles in Babylonia. To sense the full flavor of the stated text, it would be well for the preacher to study the whole of 40:12-31.
Our text starts off with responses to previous questions. Verses 12 and 13 ask who created the earth, without any direction from anyone else. Verse 15 asks before what God are the nations of the earth, including Babylonia, as nothing. And finally, verse 18 asks what idol of the Babylonians or of anyone else can be compared to such a God. Our text answers those questions by asking more questions. Have you not known, Israel? Haven't you heard the answers from all of your traditions that span the years?
Surely you know the Creator who sits above the firmament in the heavens and who rules over the fate of all nations, the One who can plant kingdoms and then destroy them (vv. 22-24), the One who cannot be compared to any other god or to anything in heaven or on earth or under the earth (v. 25; cf. Exodus 20:4). That one incomparable God is the Holy One of Israel (v. 25). Finally, the name of God is given, and by that very name of "the Holy One," his incomparable nature is confessed. For to say that God is "holy" is to confess that he is totally Other, qualitatively different from any person or any thing in all creation, set apart, transcendantly different, unlike all the things of the created universe.
There are a lot of people in our time and society who think to identify the divine with something or someone in the created order. They think God is identical with the mysterious powers of vitality that they sense in the natural world, or that he inhabits the supposed power in a pyramid or crystal. Others sometimes say that God is their inner conscience or their real Self, to be found by introspection and turning inward upon themselves. Or God is the power in music or an artistic work, or he is incarnated in some new guru or supposed messiah like Sun Myung Moon or other cult leader. But no. God is not any of those or in them. To be sure, God works in our world, but he cannot be identified with anything in the world. He is "Holy God," solely himself, Other than all he has made.
The Babylonians worshiped the stars and other astral deities; the ancient Egyptians worshiped the sun. But to those Israelites who have fallen captive to the empire of Babylonia, our text puts worship of the sun and moon and stars in its proper place. Those are not gods, it declares. Rather, they are the handiwork of the one Holy One who made them all (v. 26; cf. Genesis 1:14-16). They would not appear in the night sky unless the Holy One made them appear, and because the incomparable God is mightier than all else, he can call them out by name and make sure that not one of them is missing.
That is not only reassurance to the Israelite exiles in Babylonia, however. It is also reassurance to us. Our fate is not in the stars, and they do not control our life, despite the fact that a few of our government leaders and movie stars swear by the forecasts of astrologers. No. Our lives rest in the hands of the Holy One who has made the stars and sun and moon. And all of those wonders of deep space that our scientists now can see by their telescopes and show to us on television -- the exploding stars, the millions of galaxies, the black holes, the swirling flares of light years ago -- all of those are the creation of our one sovereign, holy God, who created and commands them all.
Given all that to be true, our prophet therefore asks his despairing and captive compatriots why they think God has deserted them or that he has been unjust toward them. "Why do you think your way is hid from the Lord or that he does not see your plight?" asks Second Isaiah. And once again, the prophet appeals to all that Israel has known of God in her past, repeating in verse 28 the same questions that he asked in verse 21. "Have you not known? Have you not heard?" Surely, you a people, whom God delivered from slavery in Egypt and guided through the wilderness and with whom the Lord entered into covenant as his chosen people -- surely, you cannot think God is powerless now or that he has forsaken you. And surely you, the people to whom God sent a davidic king and for whom he raised up prophets to guide your ways -- surely you have not lost all of your trust in the one Lord of nature and history who has been with you from beginning and who, indeed, is with you now!
The call of Second Isaiah's message is, you see, for us to remember. Remember all the way that the Lord has brought us. Remember that he loved us so much that he sent his beloved Son to die for us, and thereby to forgive us all our wrongs. Remember that he had the might to raise that Son from the dead and thus to give us eternal life. Remember how many of you have known God's comfort in times of sorrow, how many of you have lived from God's guidance through all the vicissitudes of your daily life. Remember the lives the Lord has transformed, the church he has established, the good works he has inspired. Surely, we too have known, haven't we, and we have heard from the beginning? Therefore not one of us here this morning should despair or believe that God has deserted us or that he has not the power to fulfill all our true needs.
And so the message of our text, good Christians, is to "wait for the Lord." In the darkest depths of our trouble and sorrow, wait for the Lord. At the height of some joy or success, wait for the Lord. At the birth of a child or at the end of a life, wait for the Lord. In every circumstance of our daily round, filled as it is with turmoils and anxiety, peaceful moments and good, pain and comfort, heights and depths and all the plains and valleys that fill it in between, wait for the Lord.
But what does our text mean that the Israelites and we should wait? We don't like to wait. We're a busy people, rushing about, buying and selling, hurrying and scurrying hither and yon, and waiting to us is just a waste of time. But what Second Isaiah was telling his compatriots was, "Wait for the coming action of the Lord." God is not sitting still in his heaven, just observing everything on earth. God is active, always on the move, always doing new deeds and working to fulfill his loving purpose. We sometimes think God is just an object, sitting there, waiting for us to discover him. But no. God is active; God is working, God is constantly moving history and nature toward his goal of his kingdom. And in his purpose, Second Isaiah told the Israelites, is his plan to set you free from exile, to give you a new exodus out of captivity, and a new journey in which you will return to your homes. In short, God was working to save his people.
And do you know? He's working to save you and me too. Woven into his ongoing plan is his desire to give us all eternal life -- to lead us steadily through the trials and joys of our lives to the good and abundant life of his kingdom, to bring all of us children home at last to everlasting companionship with himself.
Do you think this incomparable God of ours cannot do that? Our text addresses that doubt also, because, you see, this God of ours is not like human beings. As he once said through his prophet Hosea, "I am God and not man, the Holy One in your midst" (Hosea 11:9). So the Lord of all does not faint or grow weary, says our text, and he understands exactly how to work his purpose. He can indeed give power to all of us who think we cannot go on, and he can increase our strength when we feel too feeble. Human beings get tired and discouraged. Even young people and strong warriors become exhausted. But God is never exhausted from his working. He even neither slumbers nor sleeps (Psalm 124:4). And if we will wait on him, good Christians, and depend on his working in our lives, and look to him in faith for our sustaining power, then he will renew our strength. Sometimes he will so imbue us with his Spirit of power that we will feel as if we can soar up on wings like eagles. Other times we will find that we are able to run the race of life and not grow weary. But most important, in the power of our loving Lord, if we wait upon him in faith, we will be able to walk steadily -- day by day, one foot in front of the other, our steps sure, our spirits at peace, and our faces turned toward God's goal of his good kingdom with its joyful life everlasting.
