September 10, 2006 At Saint Mark Norman, OK
Isaiah 35:4-7 + James 2:1-5 + Mark 7: 31-37
Fear is a big thing these days. It sells stuff like guns, security systems, gates, locks, and fences. It has become the greatest political tool for getting votes. No longer are we concerned about justice or wages, education or poverty. Now it’s all about boarders, walls, homeland security, and it would seem that that best way to get elected is to scare us into thinking one candidate is more powerful, more militant, and more able to protect us from whatever it is that scares us the most. Social and political historians, by the way are quick to point out that using the tool of fear is a giant step toward fascism, and all kinds of other ideologies that do not become us.
The opening verses of today’s Liturgy of the Word have directed my prayer and thoughts powerfully and personally this weekend: “Say to those whose hearts are frightened, be strong, fear not. Here is your God. He comes to save you.”
The presence of this God who has called us to this holy place today is not seen in the removal of stress, problems, or suffering, but in the fact that in spite of all that,
there is still the possibility of great goodness, great accomplishments, great growth and satisfaction. On the eve of a date now recorded in history: 9/11; we can remember two things and must remember them both: an unexpected and horrible act of human cruelty, and a day of greater human courage, goodness and sacrifice. A handful of angry hate-filled men brought suffering upon a vast number of innocent people; and then an overwhelming number of brave and courageous men and women risked everything to bring comfort and help to others.
It is always a curious thing to notice that that in the miracle stories of the Gospel Christ himself downplays the significance of his healings. So often healing is followed by Christ telling the one who was cured not to say anything about it.
Even more emphatically as in today’s Gospel, Christ removes the man from the crowd, off by himself before he cures him. Christ could have used that power to rid the world of suffering and evil. He could have just said the word, and all evil would be gone. But that would not have been true to the plan of his Father, not according to the divine design for salvation. It was not to come through power, but through choice, through conversion of mind and heart. The real significance of miracle stories is not so much that they are sweeping displays of divine power,
but rather that they are personal acts of goodness, and moments of a human being using whatever resource was at hand to help another. That is what happens in this Gospel. In Jesus, we must see ourselves.
In verses just before today’s, a foreigner comes to Jesus for help with her daughter. At first, he refuses and insultingly denies her request until he thinks better of it. In Jesus, we must see ourselves. If at first we think someone does not deserve help, perhaps we ought to think again. A God who is partial to the poor ought to make us uneasy in our prosperity. It ought to make us want to get in touch with our interior poverty our deafness to the voice of God our blindness to God’s presence and the fear that holds us captive.
The only thing we really need to fear is the fact that we might fail to answer our call to growth in personal goodness. There is something every one of us can do
about loneliness, hunger, sadness, and suffering. Fear always puts up walls, locks closed doors and pulls the shades. It makes us blind, deaf, and silent. “BE OPENED” says Jesus. He puts his fingers in the man’s ears. I think he was silencing the frightening noise of the outside so that the man could hear from within the call of God and the whisper of divine love that calms fear. The prophet has spoken: BE STONG. HAVE NO FEAR. GOD IS HERE.