Mark 1:29-31 is a story about the private healing of the mother-in-law of Peter. In context, Mark uses the various settings in 1:29-39 to highlight the private and public implications of the coming of the reign of God. We have three episodes in a row that have many nuances and illuminating pieces of information about the ministry of Jesus. The first is the private healing of a relative of one of his disciples, the second offers a general statement about Jesus as a healer and exorcist, and the third is about the first preaching tour of Jesus in Galilee. Mark outlines in this little story what will turn out to be the standard elements for a physical healing: the diagnosing of the illness, a request for help, a healing action, and the effect on the sick person. This healing says little about the faith of the woman or the others. It also shows that Jesus does not need a large audience to do this work. On this Sabbath, Jesus proclaims the coming of the rule of God, calls for people to direct their lives toward God and saves people from a demon and other physical ills. Mark shows us as readers the full range of the authority of Jesus.
29 As soon as they left the synagogue, at which he amazed people with his teaching authority and his ability to cast out an unclean spirit. Mark does not stress this point, but the healing occurs on the Sabbath. This is an early indication that Jesus does not seem to have a problem with curing on the Sabbath. Later, in the reaction of the opponents of Jesus, when Jesus again heals on the Sabbath (Mark 3:1-6), the opponents of Jesus regard healing as ample reason to seek to get rid of Jesus. They entered the house of Simon and Andrew, with James and John. James and John are the sons of Zebedee (Mark 1:20, 3:17, and 10:35).[1]Mark clearly sets this scene as distant and distinct from the incidents that had occurred at the Capernaum synagogue. The home of Simon and Andrew may have been a rendezvous for Jesus and his disciples at an early stage. By the end of this part of Mark, things are just too good for Jesus to stay in the peace and safety of Simon’s home any longer. Rather than preparation for the return of Jesus to the road, it becomes rejuvenation from the round of healing and exorcism of the previous evenings. 30Now Simon’s mother-in-law was in bed with a fever. The New Testament gives little information about the family situation of the disciples. The mention of a mother-in-law infers that Simon had or has a wife, although the New Testament makes no mention of children. Paul offers additional mention of the wife of Simon/Cephas (I Corinthians 9:5).[2] It may be that his wife accompanied him on his journeys. Further, Mark does not share any of the details of this illness. People in those times connected a "fever" to many diseases for which there were few know courses of action that would result in a cure (compare John 4:52). They told him about her at once. The men imply that they have asked him to heal her. The lack of attention paid to the cause and effects of the fever has a parallel in the similar brevity in depicting the healing actions of Jesus. 31 He came, took her by the hand and lifted her up. Although the gospels consistently take considerable pains to focus the attention of stories about the healings of Jesus on their religious and theological -- as opposed to their ritual or mechanical -- aspects, the healing account of the mother-in-law of Peter is noteworthy for its absence of ceremony. There were certainly many exorcists and healers at this time who worked with spells, formulas, and elaborate incantations. In the synagogue, Jesus heals with one sentence. In this home, he heals with one action. The healing power of Jesus works here through a gesture, not through the popular magic that the Talmud describes for curing a burning fever. It could not be more unpretentious. Jesus foregoes such gestures as laying his hands on the sufferer (as in Matthew 9:29 or Mark 6:5) or employing such auxiliary substances as saliva and dirt (as in John 9:6). In fact, Jesus does not even speak to the ailing woman, as he does in most other healings, including his raising of the daughter of Jairus (Mark 5:21-43 and parallels), which the present account most closely resembles. Mark will refer to the gesture of Jesus taking the ailing one by the hand again in Mark 9:27 (the account of the boy with an unclean spirit). Then the fever left her, and, giving evidence of her cure, she began to serve them, able to fulfill the cultural expectations of hospitality toward guests. I do not find any hint that the reason for the healing was so that she would serve. If that were true, modern scholars would have some reason to refer to the sexism of the account. The theological point is that she has received complete mental and physical recovery by this healing act of Jesus. Jesus helps her, and then she goes about helping the others. Now, a very private healing, as opposed to the prior, very public exorcism, occurs. One operates in the realm of demon possession, and the other in the realm of physical illness. Mark tells the synagogue healing in dramatic terms with loud cries and authoritative commands, but this one is not dramatic. In general, Mark uses the healing genre to communicate the unique power and authority Jesus wields in his travels and teachings. Jesus speaks as one with unquestionable authority. The new teaching of Jesus is, in fact, that he comes with a divine power and an authentic authority never seen before. Many scholars think of the healing story as invented by Mark. If so, he provides a contrast between how circumstances forced the ministry of Jesus to evolve verses how it might have looked had things been different.
Mark 1:32-34 is a summary of healings in the evening. The action and the teaching of Jesus will be their own authentication.
32 That evening, at sunset, the conclusion of the Sabbath, they brought to him all (granting hyperbole, it indicates the large-scale aspect of the ministry of Jesus) who were sick or possessed with demons, indicating the fame of Jesus. 33 In addition, the whole city (granting hyperbole, it further indicates the large-scale aspect of the ministry of Jesus) gathered around the door. Jesus never had to go out looking for "patients." Those who need help seek him. Jesus is not a traveling physician, as much as healing and exorcisms are a part of his work. 34 In addition, Jesus cured many who were sick with various diseases, and cast out many demons. Fundamentally, the compassionate healings of Jesus underscore Mark’s interpretation of the reign of God coming near through Jesus. In addition, introducing a familiar theme, Jesus would not permit the demons to speak, because they knew him. We have already read that an unclean spirit can speak of Jesus as the “Holy One of God” (Mark 1:24). Such an order from Jesus is part of the scholarly “messianic secret” theme we find in this gospel. The identity of Jesus is clear to the reader and even to demons. However, the identity of Jesus is not clear to the disciples, the crowds, or his opposition. In the world of gospel scholars since 1901, the secrecy motif is a theological construct to clarify why the earliest tradition did not contend that Jesus was the Messiah. It displays one of the theological paradoxes of which the evangelists are fond. Such injunctions are frequent in Mark (e.g., 1:44; 3:11-12; 5:43; 7:36; etc.). Jesus gives the direction to the demons, healed, and disciples. Although many explanations may account for Jesus' reticence to have his messianic identity widely known, it seems that Mark intended the secrecy to protect Jesus from the overwhelming crowds (see 7:24) or hostile opponents (see 9:30-32). Not unrelated to the latter concern was the well-known proliferation at the time of Jesus of "divine men," miraculous wonderworkers and healers who turned out, with disappointing frequency, to be notorious frauds, such as Alexander the false prophet, satirized in the second century B.C. by Lucian of Samosata.[3] It would be entirely understandable if Jesus wished to dissociate himself from such publicity-seeking charlatans. Sometimes, Jesus demands the silence due to the conflict between the demon and Jesus, showing that Jesus has more authority because he can command silence (1:25). At other points, the command for silence may have to do with the timing of revelation. An early declaration of the identity and mission Jesus would not allow him to complete fully all he desired to do. Finally, this timing of revelation concerns how much the people in the gospel can understand. The disciples and the crowds will always struggle to understand what Jesus has to do with them (1:24) and with others. The lack of understanding on the part of the disciples becomes particularly clear in Mark 8:14-20 and 8:27-33. Nevertheless, Mark 1:1 has carefully illuminated any misunderstanding for the readers of Mark, where he is writing the good news or gospel of Jesus Christ, who is the Son of God. The identity of Jesus as Son, the good news, becomes clear with the risen Lord and not with demons.
Jesus had no trouble finding people who saw and heard him. The lust for others to see and hear has not always been the case for the church, as a discovery in Rihab, Jordan, reminds us. Archaeologists in that city were working over the remains of St. Georgeous, a Christian church from the third century, when they noticed a hollow-sounding spot in the floor. They dug down about two feet and uncovered an old airshaft that opened into a subterranean compartment. Further excavation revealed a series of rooms hollowed out from a cave as well as a tunnel from the cave that leads to a cistern. Some of the rooms were apparently living quarters, and the cistern would have been a source of water for anyone dwelling down there.
However, one room was a chapel, containing an altar surrounded by stone seats. The archaeologists also found evidence, including some crosses made of iron, that the worship that took place there was Christian worship. An inscription in the floor of the church above the cistern refers to the “70 beloved by God and the divine.” Coins and other items found in the rooms indicate that the underground area dates from A.D. 33 to 70.
When this discovery became public, the lead archaeologist said the cave was now the oldest known Christian church anywhere in the world. It was the first Christian church. He postulated that Christians who fled from Jerusalem to Jordan to escape Roman persecution in the first century A.D created. He thinks the inscription refers to 70 followers of Jesus who took refuge in the underground quarters.
There are other authorities on antiquities who question this claim, maintaining that the first-century followers of Jesus did not have specific church buildings, but met in homes or other locations, in sometimes secret locations, for worship. They point out that in the first century, the word “church” denoted the assembled body of believers, not the place where they met for worship.
Still, the discovery of this cave in Jordan may cause some rethinking of those assumptions. At minimum, the underground rooms are at least a hiding place for some disciples of Jesus Christ.
Whether the cave is what its discoverers claim or not, the reminder of the persecution of Christians in the first century, coupled with what we know of the persecution of Christians in some parts of the world today, tell us that visibility has not always been high on the list of priorities for the church. In fact, in some times and places, invisibility has been the order of the day.
To a large degree, the secrecy part of the history of the church has been for survival reasons, both for the survival of individual Christians and for the survival of the faith itself. Looking at it this way, we are Christians today not only because someone openly proclaimed the faith to us, but also because quiet venues kept the faith alive through worship in the catacombs, in secret meetings in private homes, in low-profile gatherings in hidden groves and in subterranean meeting places. Through openness when possible and secrecy when necessary, the faithful have found ways to keep the faith vital so that they could pass it on to others.
Mark 1:35-39 is the story of the departure of Jesus to a lonely place. It gives me an opportunity to write a bit about religion and prayer. Jesus was a devout or religious man and a man of prayer. I want to consider what that might mean for us today.
When I think of prayer, I think of a place of comfort, rest, and balm for my soul. I think of a grandmother humming one of her favorite hymns, "Sweet Hour of Prayer," or of standing in church and singing that perennial favorite "What a Friend We Have in Jesus." When I think of prayer, I think of solitude and quiet, a peaceful time set apart from the bustle of the day when I can commune with God, center my scattered self, and seek the guidance of the Spirit for the tough decisions of life. When I think prayer, I think of the church offering its confessions and intercessions on Sunday morning. We name before God the hurts, pain, and brokenness of individuals, church, and world. We seek healing, wholeness, and forgiveness through prayer. When I think of prayer, I think of a safety zone. I think of a place of refuge from the fast lanes, the potholes, and the dangerous drivers of life where we can go to for replenishment, renewal, and revival for the living of our challenging lives.
Most polls show that 90% or more people in modern America pray. We pray that God would bless certain persons close to us. We pray for help when we face trouble. We pray when we want something badly enough and are afraid that we will not get it. We want guidance in important decisions. We want deliverance. We want healing. We want power to face the challenges of life. We wait. As adults, many of us continue with child-like notions of prayer. Prayer is about what we want and what we think is good for us. Surely, true prayer is about something grander than that is it not. Prayer is not simply for us to get God to solve our problems. It may be that prayer aligns us with the will and purpose of God. It may be that prayer, genuine connection with God, will raise our vision to what God wants to do in and through us.
We pray because we care for others. We express our love for them when we pray for them. Along the same line, Alfred Lord Tennyson, a poet of the 1800’s, put it memorably in his poem Morte d Arthur, as King Arthur invites his friends to pray for him.
If thou shouldst never see my face again,
Pray for my soul. More things are wrought by prayer
Than this world dreams of. Wherefore, let thy voice
Rise like a fountain for me night and day.
For what are men better than sheep or goats
That nourish a blind life within the brain,
If, knowing God, they lift not hands of prayer
Both for themselves and those who call them friend?
Yet, some of the best prayer has nothing to do with getting something from God. Some of the best prayer is growing our friendship with God, dealing with the spiritual battle we often have within ourselves. The relationship Jesus had with his heavenly Father was the source of his power. Are we feeling somehow without power for the challenges we face today? Well, we may have many reasons for the lack we feel. We may not be eating right, we may not exercise, we may not be getting enough sleep, we may have a problem in a relationship we have not faced, and we may have a moral problem we are unwilling to confront. We may also have neglected our personal relationship with God.
Could it be that we need to have our vision expanded as to what God can do? Lewis Carroll’s masterpiece Through the Looking Glass contains a story that exemplifies the need to dream the impossible dream. He has a conversation between Alice and the queen, which goes like this:
“I can’t believe that!” said Alice.
“Can’t you?” the queen said in a pitying tone. “Try again, draw a long breath, and shut your eyes.”
Alice laughed. “There’s no use trying,” she said. “One can’t believe impossible things.”
“I dare say you haven’t had much practice,” said the queen. “When I was your age, I always did it for half an hour a day. Why, sometimes I’ve believed as many as six impossible things before breakfast.”
Life may today present us with what we think of as an impossible situation. We may not feel good about life, the church, or God. Yet do we realize the power available to us?
The great architect Frank Lloyd Wright was fond of an incident that may have seemed insignificant at the time but had a profound influence on the rest of his life. The winter he was nine, he went walking across a snow-covered field with his reserved, no- nonsense uncle. As the two of them reached the far end of the field, his uncle stopped him. He pointed out his own tracks in the snow, straight and true as an arrow's flight, and then young Frank's tracks meandering all over the field. "Notice how your tracks wander aimlessly from the fence to the cattle to the woods and back again," his uncle said. "And see how my tracks aim directly to my goal. There is an important lesson in that." Years later the world-famous architect liked to tell how the experience had contributed to his philosophy in life. "I determined right then," he would say with a twinkle in his eye, "not to miss the things in life, that my uncle had missed." Frank Lloyd Wright saw in those tracks what his uncle could not: It is easy to let the demands of life keep us from the joys of living.
We all recognize that any goal in life worth achieving demands a great deal of our energy. If you are a doctor, you must spend vast hours alone and in residency studying the human body. The life of your patient demands it. If you are a teacher, you must live in the library researching and preparing for your lecture. The mind of your student demands it. If you are a carpenter, you must patiently measure the building before you drive the first nail. The integrity of the structure depends on it. If you are a mother, you must sacrifice your life for another. Your children require it.
We could not live if we did not set goals and work to fulfill them. No sane person would argue otherwise. Nevertheless, here is what young Wright discovered at the tender age of nine, and what some do not learn at any time: The objective in life is not the goal but the journey on the way to the goal.
The following is a well-known anonymous prayer.
I asked God for strength that I might achieve.
I was made weak that I might learn humbly to obey.
I asked for health that I might do greater things.
I was given infirmity that I might do better things.
I asked for riches that I might be happy.
I was given poverty that I might be wise.
I asked for power that I might have the praise of men.
I was given weakness that I might feel the need of God.
I asked for all things that I might enjoy life.
I was given life that I might enjoy all things.
I got nothing that I asked for, but everything I hoped for.
Almost despite myself, my unspoken prayers were answered.
I am, among all men, most richly blessed.
35 In the morning, while it was still very dark, he got up and went out to a deserted place, and there he prayed. In Matthew 6:6, Jesus taught people to find a secret place to pray. Yet, the words are enigmatic here. Is Jesus seeking solitude to "rest up" from the crowds of the previous day, or do they serve the function of preparing him for the work that is to come? Such "retreats" from the public will continue to be a theme in Mark's gospel (1:45; 6:31-32). Jesus may have often withdrawn from the crowds to pray. In that sense, the story is an ideal story. He desires to reorient himself to the will of God in prayer. Note that the crowd does not enamor Jesus. He does not seek to build a reputation. Jesus does not get his authority from people, but from God. 36 Simon (indicating the early leadership role of Simon) and his companions hunted for him. 37 When they found him, they said to him, “Everyone is searching for you,” attempting to call Jesus back to his work. The residents of Capernaum want Jesus to stay, and apparently, that is what the four disciples also expect. 38He answered, “Let us go on to the neighboring towns (κωμοπόλεις a small town or a village), so that I may proclaim the message (κηρύξω or preach) there also; for that is what I came out to do (ἐξῆλθον or why I have come forth).” Mark used the occasion to summarize the Jesus’ purpose. His primary goal is not to be a "wonder-worker," but to proclaim the rule of God. Jesus is looking to do "grass-roots ministry." At the beginning of his ministry, Jesus himself is the Proclaimer. This is not the first time we will see that Jesus' intentions and the disciples' expectations are different. He has other priorities. The focus of Jesus is on his mission, and his desire is to extend his proclamation of the rule of God through the rest of Galilee. At this moment, the vision of Jesus is merely greater than that of the disciples. In time, the disciples will do more of the proclaiming, and Jesus will move more into a role of teacher. 39 He went throughout Galilee, proclaiming the message in their synagogues and casting out demons.
In Mark 1:14-15, “Jesus came to Galilee.” Thus, this day in Capernaum, privately and publicly, may serve as a model for Jesus’ ministry in the region of Galilee with growing expectations for what may happen, as the ministry of Jesus expands. Early in Mark's gospel, Jesus begins his Galilean missionary tour. At this point, we find no tension between Jesus and the synagogues or those who serve as their leaders. The later hostility would be between Jesus and the temple authorities, but for the moment Jesus is merely a missionary proclaiming throughout Galilee his message of the rule of God.
[1] The father of the other James, Alphaeus (see 3:18) is mentioned simply as a distinction between another disciple with the same name. This motif is also found in Mark 15:40, 47 and 16:1, which sets apart the two "Marys" by mentioning the names of their sons.
[2] “Do we not have the right to be accompanied by a believing wife, as do the other apostles and the brothers of the Lord and Cephas?” (1 Corinthians 9:5) Another reference to family members in Mark 10:23-30 is a general response, not a response targeted only at the disciples.
[3] see David R. Cartlidge and David L. Dungan, Documents for the Study of the Gospels [Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1980], 293-298).
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