Jesus in the Meantime

It’s important to remember about Mark that he has no time for introductions or afterthoughts. Mark is the shortest gospel, having no time for a birth narrative or genealogy. He sets records in scripture for his use of the words “and”, “then” and “immediately.” This means, simply, that if it’s here, it’s important. And the best way I know how to illustrate the way in which this text is essential to us is by comparing it to one of my favorite things in the world: movies.

Those who know me know I love movies. Movies have a unique way of telling stories, showing us — while at the same time telling us — what it wants to communicate.

In some movies, there are big, flashy scenes. In the Batman movies, for example, there are fight scenes with explosions and cool cars and gadgets. But this is not the whole movie. In between the action set-pieces, the action parts are scenes of characters dialoguing with one another, philosophizing, growing, and changing. It is these scenes that contain the real heart of the movie.

We learn about the characters, what makes them tick, what they care about, what’s important to them. Without these scenes that zoom in on the characters and show us their heartbeat, the big flashy scenes would feel empty. I believe that this is what today’s two gospel texts do. They aren’t the flashy, memorable miracle stories. They are the zoom-ins on the character of Jesus, so that we might read and better understand the miracle stories through them.
So we zoom in on the disciples and Jesus who are weary, worn-out, and tired. Jesus invites them to rest, an important, biblical invitation to God’s people. It hearkens back to the Old Testament teaching of Sabbath. Sabbath is the institution that insists we are made for more than working, that we are not slaves but human beings. Sabbath is a reminder to relax, retreat, refuel. And the disciples have certainly earned a break!

They have just returned from their “sending out”. In fact, this word, “apostles,” means “the ones sent out,” and this is the first time they are given this title. They have been so busy, that the text describes them as having “no leisure even to eat.” In the fast-food drive-thru and microwave-oven world, doesn’t that sound familiar? Jesus calls the apostles to rest from their weariness, a reminder we still need today.

Unfortunately for the disciples, this rest will have to wait. The crowds anticipate their attempt to go to a solitary place, and they get there before they do! You can imagine their frustration, like getting a phone call from work while you’re on vacation.

But we’re not told the story from the disciples’ perspective anymore. The camera zooms in a little closer, just on Jesus. Imagine for a moment that the noise of the crowd dies down, and all you see is Jesus’ face, in slow motion, as he gazes out at the crowd. What face do you expect to see? A tired face? An angry face? Perhaps a little mix of both? Maybe we imagine Jesus sighing, knowing there’s still work to be done.

But the face of Jesus that we are given is none of those. It is compassion. We are told that Jesus had compassion. The word for compassion in this text means that Jesus felt it, literally translated, in his bowels, deep inside.
And, in a way, the tired and worn-down Jesus chooses to suffer alongside those who are tired and worn down by oppression and illness. Jesus sacrifices his own need for rest for the sake of others who need rest. The passage forces us to simultaneously believe in a God who calls us to rest, yet willingly gives up his own rest for others.’ The only response to such a calling is “thanks be to God.”

The verse concludes by saying that Jesus had compassion because they “were like sheep without a shepherd”. This is not the first time this phrase is used in the Bible, and therefore calls our attention to its roots. The phrase occurs first in the book of Numbers, as God instructs Moses to appoint Joshua as a leader for the community as they enter the promised land. He was to be their shepherd.

This invokes for us, then, the idea of the founding of a new kind of community, and the inauguration of a new leader, a transfer of power for a developing kingdom. In our story, the new kingdom is a collection of people that would pursue God hastily, going ahead that they might meet God there, and the new leader of this community is Jesus, full of compassion.

Now, we fast-forward through two big Jesus miracles, the “action scenes”, and cut to “the healings at Gennasaret.” Just as before, the crowds subvert any attempts to give Jesus or the disciples rest. The text is general about the healings, which probably suggests that there were very many of them. Jesus’ healing ministry has incredible impact.

You can imagine the film version of this would have soft music playing in the background, as the sick are brought on mats and find life again. It would show the look of wonder on the face of the sick and their loved ones. It would show that same look of compassion on Jesus’ face.

We might see a flashback to the young man who is lowered through a roof on a mat by his friends. Then we see more sick reaching out to touch the end of Jesus’ garment. Anyone who touched it was healed. There would be another flashback to the woman who is healed of her bleeding. Perhaps one more flashback to Jesus’ inability to heal in Nazareth, as we once again see a direct correlation between people’s faith in Jesus to heal and his ability to actually do so.

In Nazareth, there is doubt and hostility, and Jesus can do nothing. In Gennasaret, there is wild hope, and Jesus is so overflowing with power and compassion so that even the farthest edges of his clothing can heal the sick.

And it is not just physical healing that takes place. The word that is used to describe the result of touching Jesus’ garments is, actually, the Greek word meaning to save! Those who touched Jesus’ garments were not simply healed. They were saved! Salvation is physical, it is emotional, it is tangible.

We are indebted to those who assembled our lectionary texts for highlighting such obscure passages for us this morning, passages we might normally skip past looking for “the good stuff.”
A journey of faith is not simply lived or experienced as one monumental highlight to the next, but more often in the quiet in-between, the every-day. Even in the everyday, the repetitive, the monotonous, Jesus is still Jesus — unrelenting compassion, teeming with salvation, anticipating our faithful and risky response.
Let us pray. Holy God, Holy Unity, we thank you for today’s readings which are not flashy or action-packed. We thank you for the way the gospel shows us Jesus’ compassion. May we show compassion to everyone we meet, as well.