The Fourth Sunday after The Epiphany
The Very Rev. Steve Lipscomb, Dean
Grace Cathedral
02/01/09

First of all, it would serve us well, I believe, to recall exactly where we are this morning.  I'm not talking about our physical location—701 8th Avenue, Grace Cathedral.  I'm talking about where we are in relation with the Church: We are at a beginning, in fact, a series of beginnings. 

Liturgically, we're at the beginning of a new church year, Year B to be exact, and thus, scripturally, we're at the beginning of a new gospel. This year the Church focuses on the Gospel according to Mark, which in itself is a beginning, since it is the first of the four gospels to be written.

Mark, in his short gospel, didn't waste time with the story of Jesus' birth.  It wasn't that the incarnation wasn't important to him.  But Mark's purpose in writing his gospel wasn't to convert people—to tell the whole story of Jesus to those who hadn't heard it.  Mark's writings were intended for those who already shared the Christian faith. And the purpose of his gospel was two-fold.

First, Mark wanted to make Jesus—and Jesus' acts, Jesus' authority—more relevant to those Christians who were living a generation or two after Jesus' death. The problem that had occurred in the Church was that Christian teaching, naturally, was primarily focused on the teachings (the sayings and parables) of Jesus, and therefore the portrait of Jesus as a teacher, a rabbi, a prophet, was a growing consensus among the Christians at that time.  In other words, the converts who had not known Jesus during his lifetime, and who were not well acquainted with the whole of the oral tradition, were becoming followers of Jesus based solely through his teachings.

Granted, things could have been worse with the new religion, but what Mark set out to do with his written gospel was to correct this one-sided picture of Jesus, who was far more than just a sage and a really smart, cool guy.

Mark's secondary purpose for writing his gospel beyond presenting Jesus as the Son of God, the miracle worker and the doer of mighty deeds, was to assure his readers that by claiming the name and authority of Jesus Christ and through the power of the Holy Spirit, those same mighty works could be repeated by and among his followers.

And so Mark's gospel, the first gospel, appropriately begins at the beginning of Jesus' ministry, where his works and his authority begin.

Today's gospel lesson contains one of the first episodes of Jesus' adult life. He has just received baptism by his cousin John.  He has begun to call his disciples—his partners in ministry—but, at this point, he has only a few. He has no reputation, no fame; no one is mad at him—yet.

And so, Jesus and his friends enter the town of Capernaum without fanfare.  But when the sabbath came, we are told Jesus entered the synagogue and, apparently, walked right up to the front of the Sunday school class (or Saturday school if you're a Jew, I guess), and began to teach. We can guess that the assigned teacher (or scribe) that morning was, at first, a bit perturbed, but more than likely, he was soon as "astounded" as the rest of them. For Jesus taught, Mark tells us, "as one having authority...."

Then something quite strange happens.  A man with an "unclean spirit" appears and cries out to Jesus, "What have you to do with us, Jesus of Nazareth?  Have you come to destroy us?  I know who you are, the Holy One of God."  But with that Jesus rebukes the unclean spirit and commands it to come out of the man.

And all who saw it were amazed, Mark says, "and they kept on asking one another, 'what is this?  A new teaching--with authority! He commands even the unclean spirits, and they obey him.' [And] at once his fame began to spread...."  Mark's cue to his readers that the ministry of Jesus has begun.  God's authority in word and in deeds rests in the person of Jesus Christ. More than a prophet; more than a sage; more than a teacher.

And so it is that Christians throughout the centuries, those who have claimed the name of Christ (and that is what we do when we call ourselves "Christian") also claim a stake in the authority of Christ—in word and in deed, to teach, to preach, to witness, to minister, to heal—in Jesus' name, in Jesus' place, with the authority of Jesus, as a disciple and representative of Jesus.

It's a pretty awesome responsibility.  It's a pretty awesome task we are called to as Christians: to be Christ in the world.  It's a pretty bold claim—to say that we are followers of Christ—that we follow in his footsteps, are led by his example, copy his behavior. That kind of commitment, that kind of power and authority in the hands of human beings scares us, because we know we are fallible—subject to fail and to make mistakes, prone to abuse that power and authority. We've failed and abused it before and we're afraid—no, we're certain—that we'll fail and abuse it again.

And so, we do something worse.  Out of fear, we abdicate  the authority and work we've been given and called to in Jesus' name, and we neglect our ministry to God and others out of self-concern and a less than faithful heart.

And then, we've really failed as followers of Christ.  In a very real and tragic sense, we've given up the Spirit of Christ to become haunted by the unclean spirits of fear and worry and anxiety and inordinate self-concern and all the ills these "bad spirits" can bring. And the only way back is to recall and reclaim the power and authority that comes through faith in Jesus Christ, who frees people from the domination of unclean spirits -and restores the soul and renews a right spirit within us, making us worthy to carry the name of "Christian."

You know, the bottom line in all of this and what should give us the courage and hope to try to be Christ-like persons is the fact that Jesus loves us and must trust us, because he left us to carry on his work in the world.  Not to complete his work, mind you.  God in Jesus did all that needed to be done for the world's salvation. But we have been entrusted to carry on—the work, the ministry, the miracles of Christ in the world.

There is a story—a legend—that I think I've told you before from the pulpit, but this morning I think it bears repeating. The story goes that after Jesus' work on earth was complete and he ascended into heaven, all the angels prepared a great coming home party for their king and friend.  They had manna, and wine from Cana, the very best kosher meats, the finest desserts (calories not included).

But when Jesus arrived at the party and the angels saw him, they were horrified.  There he was, just returned from earth, and there were holes in his hands and feet, a gash in his side, & his hair was matted with blood.       
"What happened?" they cried.  "You went to save the world, and this is how they treat you?"  

"It's okay," said Jesus, "I accomplished what I was sent to do."
         
"But didn't they know who you were?" the angels asked.  "Didn't they know what you were doing?"

"Only a few," said Jesus.

The angels shook their heads.  "Only a few believers in all the world."   

Well, actually," Jesus said, " I never got out of Palestine.  But I'm counting on my disciples to spread the news to the rest of the world."  

Barely listening and still aghast at Jesus' appearance, the angels shook their heads again. 

"Still," they said, "with only a few believers, how could they have let this happen to you?"

"Well, to tell you the truth," said Jesus, "when things got rough, they all ran away.  But they came back!  And I put them in charge."

"What?!" the angels screamed. "You left those deserters in charge? You’re depending on human beings to carry on the work of God in the world?!  

What if they blow it? What if they try and fail?  What if they get scared again and run away?  What if they forget?  What if they just cease to care?  What will you do then?

 Jesus just smiled at his questioners and said softly, "I have no other plans."

We have been called, commissioned, entrusted as disciples of Christ to carry on the work of God in the world, in our words and in our deeds, in the name of and with the authority of Jesus Christ our Lord.
Amen.