February 7, 2021: May God’s words be spoken, may God’s words be heard.  Amen.

I have missed you all these past several weeks!  You know, this pandemic separation has me thinking a bit more about family, perhaps you feel the same way.  And that is especially so given the scripture we heard this morning. 

You probably remember that my parents are from West Virginia, but what you might not know is that my paternal great-grandfather worked in the coal mines, my paternal grandfather and my dad both had jobs that brought them into coal mines, or working with coal, in fact – this is my grandfather’s mining helmet.  And, on my mother’s side, my grandfather died as a lineman for the Appalachian Power Company during a storm, and my maternal grandmother worked for that same power company to the day she died.

We all know that fossil fuels are an environmental problem, and the use of coal is a contributing factor to greenhouse gasses that have created the climate change disaster we are now facing.  But none of that changes the fact that for a couple hundred years, our lives depended on the mining of coal and the electricity and steel it would produce. Coal miners and employees of power companies and many other trade workers were, and are, the folks behind the scenes in our country, who labor without notice – sometimes in dangerous conditions, whose service we often take for granted when we turn on a light, or run our appliances. 

And I got to thinking about these family members and others when pondering our gospel reading today.  We are in Year B of our three-year lectionary cycle, which means we are reading mostly from the Gospel of Mark.  Now this first gospel to be written is one where the author is really in a hurry. Many times passages have the phrase “And immediately…” or something like it.  Maybe that is why this gospel is the shortest of those in our approved canon – because this author was in a real big hurry.

Just a refresher about where we are.  Last week, on the Jesus Channel, we heard about Jesus’ exorcism of the man possessed by unclean spirits, which, by the way, was in verses 21-28 of the first chapter of this gospel – I mean, Jesus barely is dry from his baptism just a few verses earlier.  And this week, in the next part of the gospel (still, mind you, in Chapter 1), he leaves that scene and heads into the home of one of his disciples, and heals his mother-in-law from a severe illness, not to mention healing half the town and exorcising more demons. 

Now maybe some of you are thinking…if it were my mother-in-law, I might not be in so big a hurry to fix the situation (kidding, of course, or so I hope).  Still, Jesus being, well, Jesus, did.  And after he lifted her up, she began to serve him and the others.  I used to hate that part of the story.  I mean, what the heck were all the boys doing – nothing?  They couldn’t bother to pick up a dish or put together a bite to eat?  Did she really want to do that, I mean, I know how I feel after being sick for a long time – I just want to lay in bed and sleep.

But that is when we need to take a closer look at what is really going on here to understand the significance of this act – the entire act – healing and serving – and the powerful message it gives us today.

First, let’s consider the healing itself, because this was no ordinary recovery from illness.  The Greek word here is ἐγείρω (egg-i’-ro), to awaken or raise up.  It is the same word used by Jesus to describe his resurrection, among other things.  This mother…oh for crying out loud let’s give the poor woman a name already…let’s call her Michaela – from the Hebrew for “one like God.”  So, Michaela is lifted up by Jesus, resurrected, and begins to serve.  Now, before we start thinking about this like she is being like some sort of maid, again – doing a little biblical scholarly work helps, because the root of the Greek word used here to describe what she does is διακονέω (dee-ak-on-eh’-o), the very word used to describe servant ministry, the same word used a few verses earlier to describe the angels waiting on Jesus in the wilderness, and the same word Jesus will use again later in this same gospel to describe his own ministry when he says “For the Son of Man came not to be served, but to serve.” (10:45)  It is also the root for the word we use today to describe the full an equal order of Deacon in the church.

The other thing to consider is that this author, being in such a big rush, decided to include this story of Michaela in the first place.  Why was it important enough to tell?  I mean this is about a woman written in a patriarchal time after all – well, truth be told, we live in that same patriarchal time now, but anyway.  The thing is though, the author likely included it precisely because it isn’t a story about women or domestic chores that our society – then and now – devalues and doesn’t see (much like the coal miners and electrical workers).  No, it isn’t about any of those things, but it does raise them up, in a sense like the woman herself – because this is a story about discipleship. 

She was raised, lifted up from death, for a new life – serving Jesus.  The same discipleship Jesus modeled for the men.  This, my friends, is a call story…and, it is our story too.  In fact, the exorcisms and healing is also our call story – or an example of how we are to serve.

Michaela is healed and serves Jesus who is in front of her.

Jesus heals those who are sick, and exorcises the demons that abound in the world.

None of this is glamorous work, though Jesus does get a bit of fame around town for the exorcisms.  In fact, serving others – offering healing and exorcising demons – is hard and exhausting work – but the light that shines in the darkness because of it can change the world.  Maybe that is why I thought about coal miners and power line workers this week.  The work they do is exhausting, even dangerous and dirty, and often not thought about by others – but by it – light quite literally shines in the darkness, and by that light the world has been changed.

I am reminded of a story I heard once about Winston Churchill, the formidable Prime Minister of the United Kingdom. “During World War II, England needed to increase its production of coal. Winston Churchill called together labor leaders to enlist their support. At the end of his presentation he asked them to picture in their minds a parade which he knew would be held in Piccadilly Circus after the war.

First, he said, would come the sailors who had kept the vital sea lanes open. Then would come the soldiers who had come home from Dunkirk and then gone on to defeat Rommel in Africa. Then would come the pilots who had driven the Luftwaffe from the sky.

Last of all, he said, would come a long line of sweat-stained, soot-streaked men in miner’s caps. Someone would cry from the crowd, ‘And where were you during the critical days of our struggle?’ And from ten thousand throats would come the answer, ‘We were deep in the earth with our faces to the coal.'”[1]

“Our faces to the coal.” 

Call in the name of Jesus isn’t about wearing a collar, and most certainly not for one seeking fame and fortune.  It is about serving the Jesus in our midst, keeping our faces to the coal, as we heal those who are wounded, and exorcise the demons in the world – the demons which infect the hearts and minds of so many – the demons of racism, sexism, heterosexism, of economic oppression, addiction, hate, violence, and so much more.  And like coal mining – it is hard work, sometimes dangerous work, and we won’t always see directly the light that is generated from it.  We will just keep our face to the coal, knowing that we labor as Michaela demonstrated to us, and Jesus showed us – because he calls us to it.  He lifts us up in baptism to a new life in him. 

And like Jesus, like coal mining, like serving as Michaela served, we will grow weary from it all.  Lordy, I have no doubt that we are all a bit exhausted from the weight of the world and our service in it right now, right?

The last few years have seemed like an avalanche of horror as we watch people of color killed in our streets or jailed on our borders, as we see white supremacy on the rise, as we witness people storming our Capitol with t-shirts that openly support Jewish extermination and wave flags of the armies that fought to preserve slavery, as we hear the misogynistic slurs cast on women in positions of authority and turn our backs as they struggle to shatter glass ceilings, as we watch the deaths rise from the pandemic and mourn those we love but see no longer. 

And we, the ones with our faces to the coal, have been carrying our pickaxes & shovels to do our work in the mines of freedom, justice, poverty, and oppression, and with each swipe at the wall, each tiny little lump of proverbial coal, turn darkness into light, cold heartedness into the warmth of love.  Yet while this work is our call, and we are fed by it, it doesn’t change the reality that it is exhausting.  It was for Jesus too!

Yes, even our Lord and Savior needed a break.  In several gospel passages Jesus tries, and sometimes succeeds, to get away from everything.  He needs to renew himself.  And how does he do that?  By chilling at the wet bar by the pool in the Galilean Hilton?  Maybe, the gospels don’t tell us if he did, but I suspect he would have loved that from time to time.  What we do know is that he would isolate himself for a bit to pray whenever he could.

Remember in the gospel it said, “In the morning, while it was still very dark, he got up and went out to a deserted place, and there he prayed.”  Jesus, when needing to restore himself for his work in the world, would go someplace by himself – away from those who needed him, away from the noise of all that was around him – and he would pray. 

I suspect as a good Jew he knew passages like we heard today from Isaiah, which he would have known in his heart growing up in the synagogue.  In Isaiah we heard today that “[God] gives power to the faint, and strengthens the powerless.  They shall run and not be weary, they shall walk and not faint.”  Isn’t that a message for us all?  That God gives power to the faint, strengthens the powerless, that they shall run and not be weary, walk and not faint.

Jesus knew who to turn to for strength when he was weary, when he needed to recharge.  Not only that, but he is the very One that gives power to Michaela, strengthens her, that she might walk, or even run, the race that is set before her – the call to serve Jesus – to set her face to the coal – to do her part in her time and in her place.

And here’s another thing too…part of our exhaustion comes from the enormity of what we see before us, right?  I mean, it just seems such a big a task to change the hearts of so many, to heal the wounds of our divisions, to tear down the walls of hate and build bridges of love.  We keep chipping away at the coal face of darkness in front of us, but it seems we aren’t making a dent.  We begin to think more about all the proverbial coal, than about the light that shines through our work.  We cannot imagine ever completing the job.  The thing is though – we aren’t called to always complete it ourselves.  Jesus didn’t either.

Remember, there were still scores more to heal in that town, but what did he do – he left!  He told his disciples who had scrambled to find him, the ones who were trying to tell him that there were lots of folks looking for him, that he needed to move on. 

Was he abandoning them?  No – he was leaving it for others to do – for the Michaela’s, for those others who were healed – they would, as disciples do – continue on.  They would heal and serve others.  They would then take their rest, while still more would take on the work.  And so it goes to this day – to you and to me.

Now it is our turn, and we have been laboring mightily.  Our pickaxes of service in Christ’s name swinging strongly for some time – and Lord knows the light we have produced – that shines in our hearts, that shines in the world as we face the coal.

Perhaps now is that time when we need to rest, to let others rise up and serve.  Or perhaps it is you who is now called from your rest to go to another town and begin your ministry renewed in the God who calls you.  Or you may be the one lifted up, and it is your call to serve right where you are.

Whether or not you are facing the coal, facing the Jesus who heals you, or facing the God who renews you in prayer – one thing is for certain…if there is light anywhere in the world, it is because you and so many others brought it forward out of the darkness by the grace of God.  Let that knowledge fill you, and let your heart know that God will strengthen you to continue on – because you are called. 

You are the one Jesus sees, lifts up from the brink of whatever ails you, and serves as he served in the world.

You are the one with your face to the coal, and the world grows warmer and brighter every day because of you and your service in His name.

Amen.

For the audio from the 10:30am service, click below, or subscribe to our iTunes Sermon Podcast by clicking here:

Sermon Podcast

[1] Don McCullough, Waking from the American Dream.

The Rev. Diana L. Wilcox
Christ Church in Bloomfield & Glen Ridge
February 7, 2021
The Fifth Sunday After The Epiphany
1st Reading – Isaiah 40:21-31
Psalm 147:1-12, 21c
2nd Reading – 1 Corinthians 9:16-23
Gospel – Mark 1:29-39