Community Church Sermons
Year B
February 5, 2012
The Fifth
Sunday After Epiphany
A Solitary Place
Mark
1:29-39
Rev. Rhonda Abbott Blevins
Associate
Pastor
I want to start off this morning with an informal poll. We’ll do this with a show of hands. How many of you feel stronger, more powerful, than you did ten years ago? Not too many people? Well for those of you who didn’t raise your hands, I’ve got great news! I know the cure to feelings of weakness and powerlessness. For the low, low price of sitting through my sermon, I’ll tell you the cure! But you’ve got to listen to the sermon, and it starts out in the first chapter of the Gospel of Mark.
The Gospel of Mark, unlike Matthew, Luke, and even John, begins with Jesus’ ministry. The other gospels tell us of mangers, angels, shepherds, stars, and “the Word” becoming flesh. Mark begins with the baptism of Jesus in the Jordan River. Then we read of Jesus going into the desert to be tempted for forty days. After that he heads to the Sea of Galilee where he calls his first four disciples, Simon Peter and his brother Andrew, James and his brother John. Then still in the first chapter of Mark, he and his newly called disciples head to Capernaum, a town on the Sea of Galilee where Jesus launches his public ministry.
Their first stop we read about in Capernaum is at the synagogue where Jesus teaches with authority and casts out an evil spirit. You may remember that story from last week’s sermon. Today’s scripture lesson picks up there, still the very same day, Jesus’ first day of public ministry. The scripture tells us that Jesus and his (presumably) four disciples left the synagogue that day to go to the home of Simon Peter and Andrew, there in the same town of Capernaum. When they arrive, they discovered that Simon Peter’s mother-in-law was sick with a fever. Jesus heals her (his second extraordinary act in the book of Mark). She immediately gets up and serves them pizza and beer, hot wings and sausage balls, and other Superbowl treats.
Finally, still on this first day of Jesus’ public ministry, evening fell. By this time, the town had begun talking about this man, Jesus, and his extraordinary acts. The Gospel writer tells us that the “whole town” gathered there at the home of Andrew and Simon Peter (this wasn’t a small town for the day.) The townspeople brought their sick and demon-possessed. Jesus healed the sick and cast out demons—for the “whole town.” What a day that must have been! Can you imagine how those four disciples must have felt? Witnessing these incredible, extraordinary acts all day long? And not only that, but this extraordinary man has invited you into his inner circle! Can it get any better than this?
Eventually it seems, the townspeople must have dissipated, leaving Jesus and the others free to get some well-deserved sleep. Now, I don’t know about you, if I had been Jesus, I would have probably felt pretty worn out, what with all of the authoritative teaching, miraculous healings, the multiple exorcisms. I probably would have told my disciples, “Listen, it’s been a long day. I’m going to try to sleep in a little tomorrow morning. If I’m not up by noon, come get me up.” But that’s not Jesus, is it? Instead of sleeping in the next day, Jesus wakes up before the light of dawn and goes off from the house to find “a solitary place” to pray.
I want to pause there for just a moment. I want to pause in that “solitary place” where Jesus went to pray. Throughout the gospels we read of Jesus going off to some deserted place to pray. It was a discipline—a habit for him. It seems that that there in that solitude Jesus draws strength and power to meet the challenges of the day. I’m convinced that far too many Christians fail to follow Christ’s example of seeking solitude. Maybe we think we are stronger than Jesus—we can meet the day on our own strength—we don’t need solitude. Or maybe it’s because we’re afraid of solitude because we’ve never learned the difference between loneliness and solitude.
Henri Nouwen compares three words to help us understand the difference. The first is the word, “aloneness.” “Aloneness” is a neutral term; it’s neither positive or negative, but a descriptive term for the human condition. We are all alone, even in a crowded room, even in a wonderful marriage, each person is alone because is person is unique. There’s no one else in the world like you. You’re a one-of-a-kind. But what that means is that you are alone. It’s inherent in the human condition. That’s neither good nor bad. It’s just how it is.
The next two terms, similar to “aloneness” are descriptive words that describe what we do with our aloneness. So we’ve got “aloneness”—a neutral term, and we’ve got “loneliness” a negative term. This is an empty place. A dark place. A despairing place. Loneliness is the place we go when we think about all of our unmet needs and wants. When we come away from the place called loneliness, we are weaker. We are sicker. We are empty.
But there’s another way to respond to the human condition of aloneness. If loneliness is the negative response to aloneness, solitude is the positive response. Solitude is the place we go when we think about all of the ways our needs and wants are fulfilled. When we come away from the place called solitude, we are stronger. We are healthier. We are fuller.
That’s where Jesus was in the wee hours of the morning—he was in solitude. His place of strength and fullness. That’s where he was when his disciples found him. “Everyone is looking for you!” Can you sense their anxiety? You see, they were still stuck in yesterday. They had had an amazing day the day before . . . the teaching with authority, the healing, the power over demons, the crowds and growing notoriety. “What a great place! Let’s do it again!” Yesterday was pretty awesome, and they wanted to stay there because they had no vision for anything better. But Jesus, because of his time in the place of solitude, would not be swayed by their captivity to yesterday. He would not capitulate to the clamorous crowds looking for him. In his solitude, he caught a clear picture of his purpose, and nothing or no one would detract him from that. Listen to his response once more: “Let us go somewhere else—to the nearby villages—so I can preach there also. That is why I have come.” This is his mission statement, right there in the first chapter of the Gospel of Mark. Because his mission was clear, he could rise above the anxiety of the moment. Because his mission was clear, he could ignore those who would detract him from what was most important. Because his mission was clear, he was strong enough to make the tough decision . . . you see, leaving Capernaum meant leaving untold numbers of sick and demon possessed people. He made the tough choice. He left Capernaum.
I wonder . . . what if Jesus hadn’t sought out that solitude that morning. Would he have had such a clear vision for his purpose? Would he have had the strength to resist the throngs in Capernaum begging his attention? Without that solitude, would he have stayed in Capernaum, perhaps for the rest of his days? Would we have ever heard his name?
A couple of weeks ago, I met someone who is in training for a race—a kind of race I’ve never heard of. He and his teenage daughter will be on a two-person team. When the race begins, one of them will start off on foot, running. The other one will start the race on horseback. Of course, the horse and rider take off ahead of the runner, and about half-way through the course, the rider hops off, ties the horse to a tree, and continues to run the rest of the race on foot. Meanwhile, the runner comes upon the horse, now tied to a tree, hops on the horse and finishes the race. An interesting race, huh? But what really caught my attention from this story he told was his comment about his training, “I’m 45-years-old and I’m stronger than I ever have been.”
That inspires me! That makes me believe that it’s not too late for me! It makes me believe that it’s not too late for you! (I don’t necessarily mean physically, some of you are far too gone for that! J) I’m talking about spiritual strength. There’s not a person in this room who doesn’t have what it takes to become spiritually stronger than ever before. Wouldn’t it be great to say, “I’m 45 years old and I’m spiritually stronger than I ever have been!” “I’m 65 years old and I’m spiritually stronger than I ever have been!” “I’m 85 years old and I’m spiritually stronger than I ever have been!”
What does this take? It takes training. It takes intentionality. Like my friend training for that race, he has his eyes on finishing that race and finishing strong. It’s the same with the spiritual life. For my friend, the training looks like running and riding. For those of us on the spiritual journey it looks like training our minds. You know you have power over your minds, right? You know that you have power over your thoughts, right? Most of us wrongly believe that we are the sum total of our thoughts, but that’s just not the case. We can control our thought-life. It goes something like this. . .
Whenever your mind wants to go to that lonely place, that place of emptiness and despair, you simply tell your mind, “No! I’m not going there! I’m going over here to solitude and think about all of the ways my life is fulfilled! I am stronger that my monkey mind!”
I’ll always remember the day I learned the difference between loneliness and solitude. I was 29 or 30, and feeling pretty sorry for myself. In my mind, I thought I should have found the love of my life and been married with a couple of kids. I was working with a spiritual director at the time, and the notion of “solitude” came up. “Solitude?!” I quipped. “That’s the last thing I need. I’m already lonely, and you want me to add solitude on top of that?!?”
My spiritual director said, “Can I show you something?”
“Sure, I guess so,” trusting him.
“Do you see that candle?” There was a candle burning on a table in his office. “Do you see the flame? I’m going to give you a couple of minutes of silence, and I want you to look at that flame. But don’t just look at the flame—imagine that you ARE the flame.”
“This guy is coo-coo,” I thought to myself. “Er, OK. Imagine I’m the flame. Got it.”
So there I was, staring at a flame, imagining I was the flame. There I was . . . dancing! (I don’t dance.) Free and alive! Passionate! Powerful! Uninhibited! Vibrant!
When my two minutes were up, my spiritual director said, “How was it?”
Surprised by the experience, I described it for him, “I was . . . dancing! (I don’t dance.) Free and alive! Passionate! Powerful! Uninhibited! Vibrant!”
“Rhonda,” he said knowingly. “You just experienced solitude.”
“I want me some more of that,” I said.
Why do we live our lives feeling defeated, weak, and powerless when the source of all power dwells deep within us—the Holy Spirit of God! When we connect with that source of power, nothing can stop us—no compulsion, no addictions, no temptation. What do you really want in this life? Nothing is stopping you but you, because the power is in you. . .deep within you. Go to the well. Drink of the deep waters. For “those who hope in the LORD will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint.” (Isaiah 40:31) My brothers and sisters, may it be so for you. Amen.