Epiphany 5B (Mark 1:29-39)

The movement of the incarnation, God becoming flesh, seems to flow from the divine to the human, from heaven to earth, from top to bottom. It’s like gravitational attraction that pulls towards the earth. Jesus embodies this incarnational flow that always seeks for the most vulnerable. He refuses to remain in the place of praise and respect but continues to move to regions where his gospel of God’s reign, God’s coming in everyone’s heart ought to be proclaimed. 

The gospel lesson that we hear for this Sunday illustrates why Jesus’ fame starts spreading throughout the surrounding region of Galilee. He liberates the possessed and heals the sick. His work of exorcism (which I think has a lot to do with post-traumatic stress disorder from colonization as some scholars see him as a “village psychiatrist”) and healing (which may actually be curing of physical illnesses) is known to people already. 

Jesus’ disciples appear to be more interested in marketing than learning from him. They bring the sick and the possessed to him. Not only do they volunteer to handle all the appointments (image all the appointments that we would like to make to get vaccinated during this time!) but also are ready to “hunt” down Jesus whenever he is out of their sight. Jesus suddenly becomes the most wanted person in Galilee. 

There’s no doubt that his mysterious and miraculous ability to heal and exorcise is the spiritual gift of which he takes advantage in his ministry. Whether we who are scientifically minded believe it to be true or not, we can at least accept the fact that his healing ministry is what draws people to him. Jesus’ friends might have thought this miracle business can help them collect money that can be used for religious and political reform. Perhaps they’re right about it. But Jesus who embodies the incarnational movement has no interest in it at all. While his friends want to have him enjoy his fame and popularity (therefore benefitting from him as his close associates), Jesus moves on. He doesn’t want to remain in the same place. 

Jesus is quite clear on what really matters. So he says to his friends who are asking him to get back to work, “Let us go on to the neighboring towns, so that I may proclaim the message there also; for that is what I came out to do.” Obviously, the message that he is called to proclaim is the kingdom of God, the reign of God, the coming of God within everyone’s heart that God is so intimately present right in their hearts. To do so, he sometimes has to invoke something in each different person by each different means. Curing one’s illness can kindle the divine fire in them that God really is present, loving them unconditionally. Casting out the demons can plant the seed of peace which comes from God who is deeply caring for them. His work of healing and exorcising is a means to show them God’s nearness, God’s unconditional love and mercy. 

So Jesus moves. He’s in a hurry to proclaim this message. He cannot stay in one place to enjoy people’s praise about how great he is and how he can be their king and savior. He’s got to move to those who haven’t heard the message. At this point, we may want to ask how he’s able to discern his initial calling and act upon it without getting distracted or tempted by fame and honor. It is unfair to him if we think that he just knows how to do the right thing. Jesus, just like all of us, is as human as we are. He can make mistakes as we can. 

In the gospel lesson, there’s one moment when he is neither healing nor exorcising nor teaching. Early in the morning when it is still dark, he gets up and goes to a deserted place. He seeks to be alone. He seeks to be together with and in God. He rests in God’s presence, probably reminding himself why he does what he does, discerning God’s call. It wouldn’t be too much for us to consider Jesus as a contemplative who is not just so heavenly but also earthly. 

In our moment of contemplation, we join Jesus. This, in other words, is to revisit our baptismal reality in which we join Jesus, his death and resurrection where our own egocentric desires cease and unselfish (or selfless) wills arise. During this pandemic crisis, we’re called to this state of contemplation more so than ever, first to be alone with God and then to hear the message to proclaim. What is the message you hear in your contemplation and want to share with others that they may be rejuvenated, that their day can be a bit more manageable and bearable rather than feeling so isolated?