5th Sunday in Ordinary Time (B)

Mark 1: 29-39

Evil exists but is not invincible

Introduction

Around 2200 B.C., the famous Dialog of a desperate with his soul was composed in Egypt. It was a monologue in which the protagonist, shaken by personal tragedy, contemplates suicide: “Today—he admits—death stands before me as a healing for a patient, as freedom for a prisoner, as a scent of myrrh, like the pleasure of one sitting under a palm tree on the day when a cool breeze blows.” We are at the dawn of the Egyptian literature and now the agonizing problem of pain emerges. Why is man destined to suffer?

The traditional response of Israel to this puzzle is the doctrine of retribution that Eliphaz, the friend of Job, sums up: “Have you seen a guiltless man perish, or an upright man done away with? Those who plow evil or those who sow trouble reap the same” (Job 4:7-8). But life belies in an impious way this dogma of Jewish faith, highlighting the ingenuity, the provocative and insolence towards those who suffer.

Blaming the man referring to the story of the so-called original sin is equally untenable. To talk about the pedagogy of God who makes his children grow through pain, has been called “theological sadism,” created by those who have not realized the horrendous evil that affects the innocent. Besides, who ever said that pain humanizes?

To give theoretical explanations to this existential cry is equivalent to “teach a lesson on food hygiene to those who are dying of hunger and thirst.”

Jesus did not get involved in theoretical disquisitions on pain. He proposed his solution: evil exists and is not to be explained, but fought.

Gospel Reflection

When addressing the issue of evil, it is essential to distinguish between moral evil and physical evil. Man is the real culprit of the first. He can also commit heinous crimes. Auschwitz cannot be blamed on God, but those who have arrived to such abuses. The problem remains open: Can God intervene or not in human history? If he can, why does he not intervene? Only those who have struck out omnipotence from the attributes of God find answer to this question.

The real puzzle is constituted by evil that does not depend on man: natural disasters, genetic diseases, death. How can God allow these misfortunes? The objection often turned to the believer is: “Tell your God that this is impossible. Either he has nothing to do with the bad or he is very bad.” In today’s Gospel Jesus is confronted with evil. He does not seek and gives no theological explanations. He does not wonder why misfortune, illness and pain exist in the world. Faced with the tragedies of the world it is useless to blame God or people. The only thing to do is to be at the side of those who suffer and struggle with all our strength against evil.

In three scenes Mark presents his liberating intervention.

The first reports the healing of Peter’s mother-in-law (vv. 29-31). The disease that afflicted her was not specified. We only know that she was in bed with a fever. Jesus approached her, took her hand, and lifted her back on her feet, she began to serve.

The fact is reported in a very concise manner. It is the shortest of the stories of miracles in the gospels, but all the details are significant. They were made available by Mark because they contain ideas for catechesis.

First there is the behavior of the disciples. They are faced with a difficulty which they do not know how to cope. They make a sensible choice: they speak about it to Jesus. It is what the disciples are invited to do: before solving a problem, before outlining answers and solutions, prior to managing messy situations, they should talk about it to Jesus; they have to dialogue with him. Only then they are able to see every illness, both physical and moral, with his eyes, to experience his feelings in front of the pain, to heal with the power of his word. Who does not precede from prayer the attempts to cure the fevers of man, not only does not cure the illness, but runs the risk of being infected.

Then—another significant detail—when they talk to him about the sick woman, Jesus never goes away, flee or dodge: he approaches her. The disciple also cannot ignore the fevers that prevent people to live. He cannot alienate himself, pretend not to see, waiting for others to address the problems. Who has assimilated the thoughts and feelings of the Master goes near, makes himself a neighbor to whoever is a victim of inhuman situations.

This introduction is followed by the most significant detail: Jesus takes the hand of Peter’s mother-in-law and raises her up. This is not a trivial factual statement, but the gesture that symbolizes the transmission of divine power, bringing salvation. The greek word chosen by the evangelist is egéiro that, in the New Testament, is used to indicate the resurrection, raising again from the dead, from a condition of “no life.” The sick woman is lying in bed, unable to move, prisoner of the fever. She represents the whole of humanity to which Jesus approaches to introduce her to a new condition.

The Christian is called to repeat these gestures of the Master.

The stories of miracles always end with a demonstration that healing really happened. In front of the onlookers, the paralytic takes his bed and walks, the blind shows that he sees us clearly, the daughter of Jairus, coming back to life, begins to eat. Even the mother-in-law of Peter demonstrated of being fully restored: she begins to serve Jesus and the disciples. Here is the sign that characterizes who is put back on his feet by Christ: the service to the brothers. Until that happens, healing has not occurred or is still incomplete.

The archaeological excavations show that the house where the incident happened has been transformed, since the first century A.D., in a place of encounter of the first Christian community. There the Eucharist was celebrated, the sacrament which communicates to those who receive it in faith the strength to rise again and to remain always standing at the service of the brothers.

In the second scene (vv. 32-34) Jesus cures every disease. During Saturday the people respected the rule that prohibited movement, carrying loads, curing the sick. When evening comes, the new day starts. All begin to move and bring to Jesus their sick, placing them in front of the door of Peter’s house (v. 33). They know that it is only in that house where they can meet the one who heals all.

Jesus heals many but does not allow what he does to be disclosed, because he does not want misunderstandings about his identity and his mission to arise. He does not accept to be considered a holy healer. His goal is to show the signs of the new world and point to the disciples the work they are supposed to perform.

In him it is possible to contemplate God’s answer to the problem of evil.

God is not indifferent to man’s cries of pain. The impassive and imperturbable God was invented by the philosophers. The biblical God asks: “not to get away from those who shed tears” (Sir 7:34) and to “weep with those who weep” (Rom 12:15) because he too suffers, cries, is moved, experiences the feelings of a mother; hears the lament and comes to share our human condition made up of suffering and pain, puts himself at our side in the fight against evil and teaches to turn it into an opportunity to build love.

In the last part of the passage (vv. 35-39) we find Jesus in prayer.

In Israel there were different forms of prayer. Communitarian prayer was formed mainly by the praise of God and always began with the words: “Blessed are you Lord.” The individual prayers instead resembled much more to our own. They were heartfelt prayers, laments, cries of pain, invocations for help. The Psalter is full of it.

On Saturday morning Jesus prayed in the synagogue with his community. The next day, when it was still dark, he left the house and, in the solitude of the mountains, in the quiet of the night he turned to the Father with personal prayer.

It is in this dialogue with the Father that he received the light to face the pain of man.

Not all the problems of this world can be solved: “The poor you will always have with you,” he said one day (Jn 12:8). The world without dramas, worries, sickness, death is not the current one. Prayer is not an escape from life’s difficulties nor a naive request for miracles, but is the encounter with the One who helps to see man and his problems as he sees them.

It is not easy to see that the miracle is a sign, a finger pointing to the new world. It is more spontaneous to interpret it as a test of power or as an intervention of God in favor of a privileged few. Even the apostles understood in this sense the healings performed by Jesus. They have not gotten the message. In the morning, they were on the road and finding him, they exclaimed: “Everyone is looking for you” (v. 36).

They were looking for Jesus, yes, but for the wrong reason. They claimed that he would continue to perform miracles. They wanted to exploit him to achieve their dreams of success, popularity and get the benefits they bring. They did not agree to assume their responsibility, to bring to completion the work that belonged only to them.

Jesus refuses to get involved in their projects and invites them to “go elsewhere,” to reach with him all the villages, to fulfill everywhere what he has done in Capernaum.

God does not replace man. He guides him with the light of his word, accompanies him with his presence, but wants that man be the one to act and fight evil.

Fr. Fernando Armellini
https://sundaycommentaries.wordpress.com

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In last Sunday’s Gospel Mark announced, right at the beginning of his Gospel, what would be two of the important aspects of Jesus’ activity: healing and preaching of the Good News. Today, he mentions them again, but add another ingredient of Jesus’ life: his long hours in prayer. But this is not simply another element more. It is very intimately related to the two other elements. It is in his long hours ‑‑ even his long days and nights of prayer, that Jesus discovers his own mission.

Let’s go back a little in time. The arrest of John the Baptist was a turning point in Jesus’ life. After forty days and nights of prayer in the desert Jesus made an important decision. John had been a sort of traditional rabbi around whom a group of disciples lived, who had come to be formed by him. Jesus renounces that style. He will not wait for disciples to come to him; he will go to the crowds. And when he calls disciples, it is to send them in mission.

He also makes the important decision to return to backward Galilee instead of staying in the flourishing Judea. His first day of preaching and healing, as we saw last Sunday, were very successful. People wondered at that boy from the place who returned home after a short absence and now was acting as a prophet and speaking with authority to men and to demons. At Peter’s home he heals Peter’s mother‑in‑law; and in the evening, after the end of the Sabbath rest, the whole town starts bringing him all their sick. And he performs many healing.

That’s almost too much for a start. Jesus must make another important decision about the nature of his ministry. Is he going to stay in Capernaum, the large city of Galilee or go to all the small towns and take care of the simple and poor people living there? How does he come to such a decision: ‑‑ spending a full night of prayer in solitude. When Peter comes to fetch him in the morning, his decision is made.

This tells us a lot about the way God expects us to make our decisions. And first of all, he expects us to make them. Sometimes we don’t have the courage to make our own decisions and we expect God to make them for us. We may start praying a lot, asking God to tell us what to do; we may even ask Him to give us signs; we may also see a lot of signs in what other people consider as ordinary events of life. That is really a tricky business. Because this can be easily a way to confirm our unconscious expectations or our unconscious fears. What God wants us to do is to make intelligent, rational decisions, taking into account all the aspects of reality in us and around us. And this can be done only if we reach a sufficient degree of freedom.

In our daily life, in the fire of our activities, we are conditioned by many things. And not least of all, we are conditioned by what people around us expect of us, which often is not the best of what we have to offer them. Jesus himself had to make a choice about what people expected of him. People often expect of us monks all kind of things or service that are not the best that we, as monks, have to offer them. The time of prayer, like the time Jesus spent on the mountain at night, is a time when we enter into our hearts, and being in touch with our real self, we are in touch with God, who is the Creator and the Source of our Self, and can be honest with ourselves and with Him. Then, we begin to see everything in our lives from His perspective. Then we can make the important decisions. They will be entirely our decisions; but they will also be an act of radical obedience to God, because they will be an answer to the whole reality in us and around us, seen from the perspective of God, and, so to say, with the eyes of God. It is what Paul calls the Obedience of faith; and what John calls the Communion (Koinonia) with the Father. Obedience that does not consist in doing something that was ordered, but in sharing the same will. It is not so much a question of doing what he wants as of wanting what he wants. And this can be achieved only through a personal encounter in the communion of a contemplative prayer.

May this Eucharist be one of those moments, when, freed temporarily from many of the things that make us slaves of ourselves, of others, of our passions and ambitions, we can make at least one decision that will make the rest of our life more conform to the plan of God on us and on the whole humankind.

Armand VEILLEUX
http://www.scourmont.be

Lectio Divina:
5th Sunday of Ordinary Time (B)
HE CURED MANY SICK…
AND HE DROVE OUT MANY DEMONS

Lectio

As I indicated last week, the beginning of Mark’s Gospel is some kind of draft, not only of a “day in Jesus’ life,” as many writers describe it, but as an advance of his whole ministry. In these opening sketches, Mark insists on Jesus’ authority as a preacher or interpreter of the Scripture. The people noticed from the very beginning that there was a remarkable difference between Jesus and the teachers of the Law. And Jesus’ authority was not limited to the word, but manifested in works: he could cast demons and cure diseases. The terms used by Mark to describe the reaction of the people ranged from astonishment to amazement. These two Sundays will offer us some examples of Jesus ministry “with authority” over demons and sickness. Unfortunately, as I also said last week, we will miss the signs of his authority over sin and the oppressive interpretation of the Law demanded by the scribes. I repeat my recommendation: read Mark 2:1 to 3:6 to have a comprehensive understanding of Mark’s viewpoint before we start the time of Lent.

But for now let us go to our texts and fix our attention on some different dimensions of Jesus’ ministry. Emerging from the common background of the Old Testament, which is valid also for Jesus’ time, Job’s fragment represents the puzzlement of humans when facing disease, pain, and suffering in the broader sense of the word, especially the old understanding of suffering as a consequence of sin. Job’s words throughout the book reflect the feelings of a man who cannot understand his suffering without a reason. If he had committed a sin he would at least have an explanation for his lack of hope. The people who come to Jesus do not share those feelings, but seek relief from their suffering, supposedly a consequence of their own transgressions. Anyhow, they respect the Sabbath, and it is only after sunset that they come to Jesus.

The context changes and shows that Jesus’ message of salvation is not confined to sacred spaces. From the synagogue he goes to Simon’s house, a domestic environment of everyday life. A simple verse provides us with a number of hints to interpret Jesus’ saving authority and the way he exerts it: “He approached [Simon’s mother-in-law], grasped her hand, and helped her up. Then the fever left her and she waited on them” (1:31). Even if the expression belongs to Matthew (1:23), for Mark, Jesus is, no doubt, Emmanuel, “God is with us.” He comes close to this old woman, touches her and helps her up (a gesture inconceivable for a rabbi), thus showing that he shares her suffering and helplessness. Then finally, she resumes her role as the “lady of the household,” for her recovery is real and effective. (By the way, all these “works” are performed on the Sabbath!).

Jesus’ activity is not even limited to a domestic area, but reaches the streets and, finally, the nearby villages, because that was the purpose of his coming: “He went into their synagogues, preaching and driving out demons throughout the whole of Galilee” (1:39). In the middle of the story we find an intimate trait of Jesus’ personality – his customary times of prayer. “Rising very early before dawn, he left and went off to a deserted place, where he prayed” (1:35). He does the same on many different occasions, not only in special circumstances like the prayer on the Mount of Olives (Mark 14:32-42 and the parallel text in the Synoptics), or after the multiplication of bread and fish (Mark 6:46), but also as a regular practice not related to any special event (Luke 5:16, 9:19).

In a subtle way, the ending of the passage offers an insidious temptation. We are not dealing with the “power and glory” Satan offered, a temptation easy to detect and reject. In this case, the allure is more enticing and comes under the disguise of humility: “Stay here in Capernaum and minister to this community as their rabbi, do not get involved in plans and designs that are too grand” (see Psalm 131). At first sight, it is modesty with a reasonable degree of satisfaction: becoming a domestic Messiah, whose universal saving message can be easily tamed. It would involve no problems with religious or political authorities, no persecution, no passion and death. Only renouncing God’s plans: as simple as that.

Meditatio

After such a long Lectio, a few questions for our Meditatio will suffice. The Gospel offers a synthesis of Jesus’ ministry and, thus, of our own calling to follow in his footsteps. In Paul’s text we can see an example and model for our own response. Just as Jesus shared the feelings, suffering and condition of the people who approached him in order to communicate his salvation, so Paul became “a slave, weak, or all things to all,” in order to transmit the Gospel. How close are we to the people around us in order to proclaim and share our faith? To what extent do we share the weakness, hopes and distress, joys and sorrows, of those who live near us? How often do we limit our witness under the disguise of respect to others’ consciences, so as not to be involved in proclaiming a message that could be “disturbing”?

Oratio

Pray that as we imitate Jesus’ attitude of silent and retired prayer, we may also imitate his commitment to transmit God’s saving power to those who suffer in any domain of their lives.

Pray for the elderly, bedridden, forgotten and isolated; for those subjected to the demons of guilt and despair: that they may experience the saving help and the liberation only Jesus can grant them.

Contemplatio

We, just like Jesus, feel the temptation of confining our Christian life to the limits of our parish, community or local environment. Couldn’t we look for other spaces and horizons? Have you thought about the possibility of cooperating with some organization working with or ministering to immigrants, missions, ecumenism, persecuted Christians or marginal people?

Reflections written by Rev. Fr. Mariano Perrón
http://www.americanbible.org