Mark 1:29-39

Mark 1:29-39 (NRSV)

²⁹ As soon as they left the synagogue, they entered the house of Simon and Andrew, with James and John. ³⁰ Now Simon’s mother-in-law was in bed with a fever, and they told him about her at once. ³¹ He came and took her by the hand and lifted her up. Then the fever left her, and she began to serve them.

³² That evening, at sunset, they brought to him all who were sick or possessed with demons. ³³ And the whole city was gathered around the door. ³⁴ And he cured many who were sick with various diseases, and cast out many demons; and he would not permit the demons to speak, because they knew him.

³⁵ In the morning, while it was still very dark, he got up and went out to a deserted place, and there he prayed. ³⁶ And Simon and his companions hunted for him. ³⁷ When they found him, they said to him, “Everyone is searching for you.” ³⁸ He answered, “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.” ³⁹ And he went throughout Galilee, proclaiming the message in their synagogues and casting out demons.

            Mark 1:29-39 contains three incidents in the early ministry of Jesus in Galilee.

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).

I Corinthians 9:16-23

I Corinthians 9:16-23 (NRSV)

¹⁶ If I proclaim the gospel, this gives me no ground for boasting, for an obligation is laid on me, and woe to me if I do not proclaim the gospel! ¹⁷ For if I do this of my own will, I have a reward; but if not of my own will, I am entrusted with a commission. ¹⁸ What then is my reward? Just this: that in my proclamation I may make the gospel free of charge, so as not to make full use of my rights in the gospel.

¹⁹ For though I am free with respect to all, I have made myself a slave to all, so that I might win more of them. ²⁰ To the Jews I became as a Jew, in order to win Jews. To those under the law I became as one under the law (though I myself am not under the law) so that I might win those under the law. ²¹ To those outside the law I became as one outside the law (though I am not free from God’s law but am under Christ’s law) so that I might win those outside the law. ²² To the weak I became weak, so that I might win the weak. I have become all things to all people, that I might by all means save some. ²³ I do it all for the sake of the gospel, so that I may share in its blessings.

         The theme of I Corinthians 9:16-23 is the compulsion sensed by Paul to preach the gospel. Paul says he really had no choice. God has called him to do this. He will live along with them in such a way as to display the gospel. We are all aware of the "great commission" (Matthew 28:18-20), but the commission of Paul is to preach the gospel, and he is so utterly committed to this commission that he needs no reward or compensation. The passage invites us to explore the idea of commission. Do we know what our commission is? And if so, are we committed to it?

            This passage is one of many that make me ponder what I have done with my life as a Christian as well as pastor. Have I really lived with this sense of being all in for the gospel? I am not so sure. I invite you to consider the priority the gospel has had in your life. Yes, Paul is responding to the call of God on his life to be an apostle. He writes about what that means. However, each of us has a calling from God as well. How would we express the priority that calling has had upon our lives? We need to remember that our actions speak louder than words. We may win people close to us if they see that it empowers and beautifies our lives. Such a priority in our lives is not easy. It may require some careful examination of our conduct. Our judgmental attitude toward others will not aid in that witness!

In I Corinthian 9:16-18, Paul begins with identifying his divine call to preach. ¹⁶ If I proclaim the gospel, this gives me no ground for boasting. The call to be an apostle does not come from him. For an obligation (ἀνάγκη or necessity, something he must do) is laid on me, and woe (Habakkuk 2:12, Isaiah 3:11, and Jeremiah 4:13) to me if I do not proclaim the gospel (εὐαγγελίζωμαι)! Not to preach the gospel would lead to suffering woes associated with disobedience.[1] It reminds us of the characterization Jeremiah gives us of his call to proclaim the divine word, where it becomes something like a burning fire shut up in his bones. He is weary holding it within. In fact, he can do so no longer (Jeremiah 20:9). A moralist or philosopher can keep truth within by forever pondering it from its many dimensions, whereas the apostle must be a missionary for the truth.[2] The apostle must witness or confess in public to the work of God.[3] ¹⁷ For if I do this of my own will, I have a reward; but if not of my own will, then God has entrusted me with a commission (οἰκονομίαν,derived from the notion of the management of a household or of household affairs; specifically, the management, oversight, administration, of others' property; the office of a manager or overseer, as in the steward of the property of another). The word relates to a term Paul uses in 4:1-4, where he discusses stewards and stewardships. Stewards were often slaves who were house managers. Thus, they were slaves of a master but simultaneously a supervisor of other slaves.[4] In 4:1-4, Paul characterizes himself as one of the stewards of God's mysteries. Paul's use of oikonomian in verse 17 suggests that Paul is making a similar move here. Paul sees himself as one whom God has entrusted with the task of proclamation. He is a slave to God, and thus, a slave to all (9:19). His statement in these three verses echoes 1:17, where he asserts that Christ did not send him to baptize but to proclaim the gospel (εὐαγγελίζεσθαι). Moreover, in 1:21, Paul states the importance of proclamation since it is through the foolishness of proclamation that God saves those who believe. From the outset of the epistle, Paul maintains that the power of the proclamation does not rest upon eloquence or human wisdom but in the content of the proclamation which is Christ crucified (1:17, 23-24) for Christ himself is the power of God and the wisdom of God (1:24).¹⁸ What then is my reward? This comment regarding a reward is difficult to understand. Paul could be referring to preachers who did not have a call to preach but were willfully preaching because they wanted some type of compensation.[5] If so, Paul may contrast himself with them by characterizing himself as one who preaches unwillingly.[6] This contrast is not the first time Paul draws a distinction between himself and others who proclaim the gospel. For example, in the beginning of the letter, Paul distinguishes himself from those who preach eloquently, maintaining that his proclamation is not about human wisdom or sophisticated rhetoric but a "demonstration of the Spirit and of power (2:4; cf. 1:17; 2:1-5, 13). His reward is just this: that in my proclamation I may make the gospel free of charge, so as not to make full use of my rights in the gospel. We can see here the basis for the view that the apostolic gospel functioned as a given norm in the process of developing the episcopal office, a norm that alone could give validity to the office.[7]

In I Corinthians 9:19-23, Paul shows the way in which he is a slave of all. The passage shows the adaptability of Paul for the sake of the gospel.  Paul has a saving purpose in his relation to others.  Thus, Paul does not belong to any group but to all.  He is at home anywhere. ¹⁹ For though I am free with respect to all, I have made myself a slave to all, so that I might win (κερδήσω, or gain, occurring five times, the purpose of his enslavement) more of them. He wants to win people to the gospel. This statement presents a contrast to what he says in 9:1 where he asserts his freedom. In 8:9-13, the proper use of freedom is to benefit others. He presents himself as an example to the Corinthians of how to use one’s freedom for the benefit of others. Though he is free, he makes himself a slave and though as an apostle he has the freedom to charge for preaching, he utilizes this freedom to make the gospel free to all (9:11-15, 18). ²⁰ To the Jews I became as a Jew, in order to win Jews. To those under the law I became as one under the law (though I myself am not under the law) so that I might win those under the law. Because Paul was born a Jew, the statement presents a conundrum. His words suggest that he was not only born a Jew, but followed Jewish practices prescribed by the Mosaic Law. Nonetheless, Paul does not clarify further what he means by providing a list of specific Jewish practices he continued to follow.[8] While claiming to become under the law, Paul simultaneously maintains that he is not under the law suggesting the voluntary nature of his "becoming a Jew." It is important to note here, that for Paul the law is not evil or even impossible to keep. In fact, Paul has positive views of the law elsewhere such as in Romans 7:12 where he states that the "law is holy, and the commandment is holy and just and good" (NRSV) and in Philippians 3:6 where he contends that "as to righteousness under the law" (NRSV) he was blameless. For Paul, then, one of the problems with the law was its inability to save or give life (Galatians 3:21-22). Yet, he believed that by allowing himself to follow the practices of the law, he would be able to save those who lived under the law. ²¹ To those outside the law (ἄνομος) I became as one outside the law, reiterating his claim elsewhere that he is an apostle to the Gentiles (Romans 11:13; Galatians 2:9-10). (Though I am not free from God’s law (ἄνομος Θεοῦ, or to put it in parallel construction, ‘I am not outside the law of God”) but am under Christ’s law (ἔννομος Χριστοῦ), expressing the fact that in Christ something else confronts the Mosaic Law so that its validity is at an end.[9] Behind both Torah and Christ’s law is the saving action of God. God has a “law,” but has moved from Torah to Christ for its expression. Again, the reason for his enslavement is that I might win those outside the law. Many scholars believe that Gentiles compromised the largest share of the Corinthian congregations; therefore, they would be proof of the success of the missionary endeavors of Paul. Indeed, the remarks of Paul in 12:2 in which he reminds the Corinthians that they were once "pagans ... enticed and led astray to idols" (NRSV) strongly suggests that the Corinthians were those "apart from the law." Paul discusses law and gospel in a broader context, stating that the proclamation of the gospel is above all dispute about the law, which moves on a different level. Only from the standpoint of a question that was not now that of the apostle Paul did the Reformers related what he said about the gospel to what he said about the law. They did so in such a way as to oppose them to each other as different forms of address to us. They viewed the law as an expression of the demand of God in antithesis to the gospel as promise and pronouncement of the forgiveness of sins. In Paul, we have in the law on the one side, and faith in Christ on the other, two realities in salvation history that belong to two different epochs in what God does in history.[10] ²² To the weak (in conscience, the overly scrupulous) I became weak, so that I might win the weak. I have become all things to all people, that I might by all means save some. This group could consist of those he talks about in chapter 8, who are weak in conscience to idol meat. Alternatively, it could consist more broadly of those believers who still want to follow the law or of those Paul declares as weak in 1:27 -- people who are sociologically disadvantaged (cf. 1:26-31). If one follows this trajectory, however, then the weak are Christians that gives κερδήσω a different meaning than the one present with the other two groups that consist of nonbelievers. Yet, it is possible, that the weak, like the other two groups, are non-Christians whom Paul wants to convert. Moreover, the weak could also be a phrase used to characterize and summarize the plight of the other two groups -- with or without the law they are all powerless to save themselves.[11] ²³ I do it all for the sake of the gospel, so that I may share (συνκοινωνὸς become a participant or fellow partner) in its blessings. His overriding allegiance is as a partner with the gospel. He does this because the gospel is so precious to him. He declares the ultimate role the gospel plays in his life. Here is the reason for all that he does and all that he endures. In 4:11-13, Paul presents a brief résumé of an apostle who makes himself a slave to all: He is hungry and thirsty, poorly clothed, beaten, homeless, reviled, persecuted, slandered, and considered rubbish of the earth. Thus, he participates in suffering which is at the heart of the gospel message. The dual reality of suffering and blessing goes hand in hand for Paul and sheds light on his statement later in the letter in which he writes, "Therefore, my beloved, be steadfast, immovable, always excelling in the work of the Lord, because you know that in the Lord your labor is not in vain" (15:58, NRSV). Remaining steadfast during suffering for the sake of the gospel ensures that one will participate not only in suffering but also in the gospel's ultimate victory.

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[1] (Joseph A. Fitzmyer, "First Corinthians," The Anchor Yale Bible [New Haven: Yale University Press, 2008], 367-68).

[2] Barth, Church Dogmatics III.2 [47.5] 607. 

[3] Barth, Church Dogmatics III.4 [53.2] 76.

[4] (Paul W. Marsh, New International Bible Commentary, ed. F.F. Bruce [Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1979], 1356)

[5] (Paul W. Marsh, New International Bible Commentary, ed. F.F. Bruce [Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1979], 1366)

[6] (Paul W. Marsh, New International Bible Commentary, ed. F.F. Bruce [Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1979], 1366)

[7] Pannenberg, Systematic Theology Volume 3, 380-1.

[8] (Joseph A. Fitzmyer, "First Corinthians," The Anchor Yale Bible [New Haven: Yale University Press, 2008], 369-70).

[9] Pannenberg, Systematic Theology Volume 3, 62.

[10] Pannenberg, Systematic Theology Volume 3, 61.

[11] (Joseph A. Fitzmyer, "First Corinthians," The Anchor Yale Bible [New Haven: Yale University Press, 2008], 371-72).

Isaiah 40:21-31

Isaiah 40:21-31 (NRSV)

²¹ Have you not known? Have you not heard?

Has it not been told you from the beginning?

Have you not understood from the foundations of the earth?

²² It is he who sits above the circle of the earth,

and its inhabitants are like grasshoppers;

who stretches out the heavens like a curtain,

and spreads them like a tent to live in;

²³ who brings princes to naught,

and makes the rulers of the earth as nothing. 

²⁴ Scarcely are they planted, scarcely sown,

scarcely has their stem taken root in the earth,

when he blows upon them, and they wither,

and the tempest carries them off like stubble. 

²⁵ To whom then will you compare me,

or who is my equal? says the Holy One.

²⁶ Lift up your eyes on high and see:

Who created these?

He who brings out their host and numbers them,

calling them all by name;

because he is great in strength,

mighty in power,

not one is missing. 

²⁷ Why do you say, O Jacob,

and speak, O Israel,

“My way is hidden from the Lord,

and my right is disregarded by my God”?

²⁸ Have you not known? Have you not heard?

The Lord is the everlasting God,

the Creator of the ends of the earth.

He does not faint or grow weary;

his understanding is unsearchable.

²⁹ He gives power to the faint,

and strengthens the powerless.

³⁰ Even youths will faint and be weary,

and the young will fall exhausted;

³¹ but those who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength,

they shall mount up with wings like eagles,

they shall run and not be weary,

they shall walk and not faint.

Isaiah 40:21-31 continue the theme of the Lord as creator and savior. The exile was a time of discouragement and hopelessness for many Jews living in Babylon. The prophet will want them to see who the Lord is as creator, and therefore, to see the Lord will save them. 

We will see immediately that II Isaiah views creation as an argument for the expectation of a new saving action on the part of the Lord that will demonstrate afresh the divine power over the course of history.[1] It begins with a series of rhetorical questions addressed to Israelites. ²¹ Have you not known? Have you not heard? The expected answer is yes, of course, we have known and heard from our religious tradition. However, the prophet then asks an unexpected pair of questions. He asks them of the elders have taught them from the beginning? Me-rosh occurs only nine times in the Hebrew Bible, four of them in Isaiah, and most of them in materials attributed to priestly circles. Along with the frequent use of priestly technical terminology, II Isaiah also seems to rely heavily on words found in late prophetic traditions (e.g., Jeremiah, Ezekiel, Daniel). The prophet also relies on ideas and words from the wisdom tradition common to Israel and the broader ancient Near East. Have you not understood from the foundations[2] of the earth? Ordinarily, the emphasis in the expression “foundations of the earth” is on place rather than time, as it appears to mean here. For example, in Micah 6:2, it parallels “mountains”; in Isaiah 24:18, it parallels the “windows of heaven”; in Jeremiah 31:37, it parallels “heavens above,” and in Psalm 82:5, unjust gods shake the “foundations of the earth”. The unusual usage reflects the poetic genius of the author of our passage. Here the answer to the question is less obvious — biblical Israel never made any claim to have been present “from the foundations of the earth.” The book of Job, in fact, makes the point that no human was present at creation and therefore was not privy to God’s original actions or intentions (and therefore could not pass, on such knowledge, as the revealed religious tradition was transmitted). The prophet clearly has a different understanding of how God revealed the knowledge of God “from the beginning” to the Israelites. To use later theological terminology, the prophet understands that the first knowledge of God is through general (natural) revelation rather than special (Sinai) revelation. The prophet appeals to the natural world as the sign of the existence and presence of the Lord with Israel. The prophet explores nature through the cosmology of his time. Thus, the Lord ²² sits above the circle (chuq, referring to a vault or horizon, occurring only in Job 22:14 and Proverbs 8:27 as well. The word means the apogee or farthest reach of a circle. The emphasis here, as in the Job passage, is on great distance — as far as the eye can see. Thus, the Lord sits even above the farthest circle of the earth, and its inhabitants are like grasshoppers. Such a description is more familiar to most readers of the Bible from the account of Israel’s encounter with the gigantic Nephilim in Numbers 13:33 (“. . . and to ourselves we seemed like grasshoppers, and so we seemed to them”). However, the word is not common, occurring only in these two places and Leviticus 11:22 (where the Torah declares the insect ritually suitable for eating, as we also learn of John the Baptizer in Matthew 3:4), II Chronicles 7:13, and Ecclesiastes 12:5. Continuing with ancient cosmology, the Lord stretches out the heavens like a curtain, doq, which occurs only here. It derives from a verbal root meaning “crush,” “pulverize,” “thresh,” and the adjectival meaning of “thin,” ”small,” ”fine” suggests the gossamer quality of the sky-dome, through which the ancient Israelites believed the waters above the earth that provided rain could be seen. To continue the cosmological metaphor, the Lord spreads them like a tent in which to live. As the prophet sees it, the sky is like a dome over the earth. The key point here is that based upon what the prophet sees in terms of the Lord as creator, in the next two verses, we will see the prophet bind together creation and history. For II Isaiah, a theology of creation and a theology of history combine. The Lord ²³ brings princes to naught, and makes the rulers of the earth as nothing (Job 12:18-19). The prophet links the argument from nature with the argument from geopolitical history. The enduring presence of the Lord in the physical world contrasts well with the transitory nature of social realities. Thus, ²⁴ scarcely are they planted, scarcely sown, scarcely has their stem taken root in the earth, when he blows upon them, and they wither (Job 12:16-25). The prophet then refers to the tempest, sa’arah, which in the Bible refers to a figure of divine wrath (e.g., Isaiah 29:6; 41:16; Ezekiel 13:11, 13) or some other supernatural storm (such as Elijah’s translation to heaven in a “whirlwind,” II Kings 2:1, 11, or the storm theophanies to Ezekiel, 1:4; and Job, 38:1; 40:6). Only in late psalms does the word mean an ordinary storm. The tempest carries them off like stubble. Such a statement reminds us of Ecclesiastes 1:4, where generations of human beings come and go, but the earth remains. In Isaiah 40:8, the grass and flower fades, but the word of God stands forever. Such statements reflect the wisdom tradition. The theological vision of II Isaiah, then, may have arisen in response to and in reaction to a strain of wisdom-influenced theology that contrasted the apparent timelessness and changelessness of the natural world with the apparent randomness and purposelessness of individual and collective history, which we see in much of the book of Ecclesiastes. One may see in II Isaiah a response to a kind of proto-deism, the idea that although God exists, the interactions God has with the world ceased after creation. This passage seeks to counter that view by insisting that the Creator of the world remains very much concerned and involved with the ongoing struggles of Israel. The prophet has designed this lyrical poem to refute the charge of God's faithlessness, and to provide hope for Israel in its dismay.

The Lord through the prophet now asks another series of questions. ²⁵ To whom then will you compare me, or who is my equal? In a title borrowed from the prophet Isaiah, the prophet identifies the speaker: says the Holy One. The passage shifts voice briefly with a direct quote from the deity. This divine appellation found only here, Job 6:10, and Habakkuk 3:3. The word “holy” is a favorite of the prophet — occurring some 60 times in the book, accounting for a fifth of all the occurrences of the word in the Hebrew Bible. It signals one of the dominant priestly-oriented themes of the prophet, the holiness of the God of Israel, usually referred to as “the Holy One of Israel” in Isaiah (1:4; 5:19, 24; 10:20; and more than 20 more times in Isaiah, but elsewhere only at II Kings 19:22; Isaiah 37:23; Jeremiah 50:29; 51:5; Psalm 71:22; 78:41; 89). Nowhere in the Hebrew Bible is the benevolent sovereignty of God, expressed as holiness, conveyed more clearly or eloquently than in the book of Isaiah. Related to the theological notion of the infinity of God, the prophet writes of the incomparability of the Holy One, which means that the designation “the Holy One of Israel” becomes a guarantee of the hope of redemption by the exiles.[3] As we continue, ²⁶ lift up your eyes on high and see: Who created these? The Lord brings out their host or astral beings and numbers them, calling them all by name. The attitude of biblical writers toward them varies. Ordinarily, it conceives the heavenly host in a neutral way, as the celestial army under the command of the God of Israel, giving rise to the well-known designation of the God of Israel as “Yahweh (the Lord), the God of hosts” (II Samuel 5:10; I Kings 19:10, 14; Jeremiah 5:14; etc.). Negatively, prophets condemned Israelites when they worshiped the heavenly host as astral deities (Jeremiah 19:13; Zephaniah 1:5), and there is at least one reference to God punishing the heavenly host themselves (Isaiah 24:21). In contrast to this negative attitude toward the heavenly host, Isaiah’s statement that God names them is striking. Naming signifies that the Lord has power over them. II Isaiah completes this thought, because the Lord is great in strength, mighty in power, not one is missing. It implies a solicitous attitude of the deity toward the heavenly host not found elsewhere in the Hebrew Bible. 

Next, the prophet answers the doubt of the people, who cannot see the hand of the Lord in the world of history or experience. We see again that in II Isaiah, belief in creation becomes an argument for the expectation of a new saving action on the part of the Lord that will demonstrate afresh the divine power over the course of history.[4] ²⁷ Why do you say, O Jacob, and speak, O Israel, “My way is hidden from the Lord, and my right is disregarded by my God”? Here is the final set of rhetorical questions in this segment. The answer to these questions, one Israel ought to have known, is in the concluding verses. The Lord is tireless and full of vitality. The Lord is exactly what they need, for they are weak, faint, and lacking in energy. The Lord can do for them what they cannot do for themselves. ²⁸ Have you not known? Have you not heard? The Lord is the everlasting God, the Creator of the ends of the earth. God as everlasting relates to the theological notion of the infinity of God. The stress is on the pre-temporality of God. We also find the thought that God is always the same.[5] Affirming the Lord as creator does not remove the mystery. Further, mystery does not remove faith. The Lord does not faint, ya’ef, an uncommon word found exclusively in late prophetic texts (Isaiah 40:30; 44:12; Jeremiah 2:24; 51:58, 64; Habakkuk 2:13; Daniel 9:21) or grow weary, yagia,’ occasionally found in parallel with the first verb, (40:30, 31). Further, the Lord is unsearchable in understanding. The Lord is always active on behalf of the believer, and they receive power for what they must do.  Israel must face the future with confidence in the promises of God. The passage is a reminder of the respect we ought to have for life. Humanity has a will for life. God calls humanity to life, and wills that humanity should not neglect this capacity, the power, strength, and force that God has given humanity, but rather, affirm and accept it.[6] Therefore, the Lord ²⁹ gives power to the faint, and strengthens the powerless. ³⁰ Even youths will faint and be weary, and the young will fall exhausted. Such language should remind us of athletic metaphors. In a sense, souls are like athletes that need opponents worthy of them if they are to have the trials that extend and push them to the full use of their powers.[7] However, in human weakness, we learn about ³¹ those who wait, a root meaning to “twist, stretch, introduce tension,” and the noun means “line.” By extension, the word came to mean both “look eagerly for” and “lie in wait for” (Psalm 56:7). Importantly, none of the meanings of the verb denotes the purposeless biding of time that English speakers think of with the verb “wait.” They are to wait for the Lord. Of course, of all the things that Isaiah challenges us to do, waiting for the Lord is probably the toughest. We absolutely hate to wait. Yet, those who wait shall renew, chalaf, which means “to change,” “pass on,” ”away,” “through,” ”succeed” and implies less the return of lost vigor and more the receipt of different, divinely given vigor (here and at 41:1). The nominal form of the cognate verb in Arabic is the origin of the word Caliph, “successor” to Mohammed. The Lord shall renew their strength, (enshrining an example of biblical eloquence)they shall mount up with wings like eagles, they shall run and not be weary, they shall walk and not faint. We have here a hyperbole for restoring strength to the feeble, for when one weakened runs, it is as if that person sprouts wings. 

The prophet has provided lasting images for human life and life with the Lord. Life can wear us down. We, of course, are not in the sandals of the exiles. Nevertheless, we, too, have a journey through life that can be exhausting and sapping, for there is no shortage of things that wear us down. For starters, there are simply the demands of each day. However, there are larger issues that sap our energy. If we pay attention to the news, we can hardly keep a bounce in our step. Closer to home, we can think of the stuff that undermines our vigor as well. We have problems at work, difficulties in our relationships, worries about our children, unwelcome interruptions in our plans and unexpected health difficulties. Even our trips to church sometimes add to the loads we carry. 

To wait on the Lord is a challenge and a puzzle. How do we wait on the Lord? If we wait on the Lord, we are making time and creating space for the exploration of the meaning of our lives and the resources for the journey. For me, that means openness to the revelation of God we find in the Bible, in the Christian community, and even within the wide scope of Christian tradition. By faith, we step across the threshold and into the Christian house. No matter what happens, our lives are in the hands of the Lord, and they are hands bearing great love. 

“I have a dream,” said Dr. King. He had a dream of the justice of God on earth. A dream of rough places made plain, with all flesh seeing it together. He had a dream of blacks and whites sitting down together at the table of unity. He had a dream of oppression and injustice transforming into freedom and justice.

 “The old ones remind us that slavery’s chains / Have paid for our freedom again and again.” These are the words of the African-American poet Maya Angelou, offered at the Million Man March in 1995. Speaking to a huge crowd of black men on the Mall in Washington, D.C., she reminded them of their difficult and painful history, and then invited them to focus their lives on joy, courtesy, gentleness, and care. She said, 

The ancestors remind us, despite the history of pain, 

We are a going-on people who will rise again. 

 

Powerful words. Hopeful words. Inspiring words. Words that culminate in Angelou’s closing line, “And still we rise.” One of the great strengths of the civil rights movement was its unbreakable link with the faith of the black church. The diplomat and author James Weldon Johnson became field secretary of the NAACP in 1916, and in 1921, he wrote the text to the hymn “Lift Every Voice and Sing,” which became an anthem of the struggle for racial justice.

Lift every voice and sing till earth and heaven ring,

Ring with the harmonies of liberty.

Let our rejoicing rise high as the listening skies;

Let it resound loud as the rolling sea. 

 

Once called “The Black National Anthem,” this song now appears in hymnals throughout the Christian church. It goes on to say, 

God of our weary years, God of our silent tears,

Thou who hast brought us thus far on the way;

Thou who hast by thy might led us into the light;

Keep us forever in the path, we pray.

 

These are not black words, nor are they white words. They are Christian words — words of faith in a God who can guide us, protect us, and lead us into the bright light of freedom, equality and justice. With the help of the Lord, still we rise.

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[1] Pannenberg, Systematic Theology Volume 2, 12.

[2] This word deserves some consideration. Biblical Hebraica Stuttgartensia (BHS) suggests that we read the word as the singular construct of yesudah with a prefixed prepositional mem (“from the foundation”) rather than the plural construct of the noun mosad, which also means foundation. The BHS reading more closely parallels the preceding parallel line of poetry, which also employs the prepositional mem; the NRSV combines the received text and the suggested editorial emendation.

[3] Pannenberg, Systematic Theology Volume 1, 399.

[4] Pannenberg, Systematic Theology Volume 2, 12.

[5] Pannenberg, Systematic Theology Volume 1, 402.

[6] Barth, Church Dogmaticds III.4 [55.1] 390.

[7] Thomas Merton.