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St. Charles' Episcopal Church - St.. Charles, IL
5th Sunday after the Epiphany - February 8, 2009
Isaiah 40:21-31 Psalm 147:1-12, 21c 1 Corinthians 9:16-23 Mark 1:29-39
The Rev. Elizabeth Meade


Have you not known? Have you not heard?
The LORD does not faint or grow weary; his understanding is unsearchable.
He gives power to the faint, and strengthens the powerless. Isaiah 40:28

These are the words of Isaiah in this morning's Old Testament reading. So easy to miss. That gentle assurance that God gives power to the faint, and strength to the powerless. How easy it is for us to forget those promises - especially when things are going well for us. That it is God who gives us the strength to overcome, that it is God who gives us power when we feel beaten and disempowered. Jesus reminds us of this - and God waits patiently for us to struggle and to wrestle with all those things which entangle us - until we realize that it is God, not we ourselves, who will disentangle us from all that binds us.

Gary came home this week with the unhappy news that everything we put in our 401 K last year is gone. All of it. I was initially angry….Angry at the stock market, angry at Bernie Madoff, angry at the economy.
"But that was our money!" "Why bother saving at all?" I was steamed.

On Wednesday morning, just after I had heard this news, I was supposed to attend a day long retreat offered by the St. Charles' Ministerial Association. I had a bunch of other stuff to do this week, and with Gary's bad news about our finances, I wasn't in the mood for "God Time." Retreats usually hit me that way; they invade my calendar - at the most inconvenient times. I wrestled with not going, but I had said I would be there - so I went.
Arms crossed. Worried. Irritated. Grrrrr……

After chapel, the spiritual director of the retreat asked us to go off by ourselves to just "be." We could take a walk, we could pray, or write, or do nothing at all. I definitely wasn't in the mood, but I went to a small room, and sat down in a chair - a chair bathed in sunlight. It was warm to the touch. But I couldn't focus. My mind reviewed the lists that it had created, the state of the economy, and all manner of things.

Okay, God. I'm here. I don't have time to be here, I don't much feel like praying, and I should be writing my sermon for Sunday, so give me some inspiration, will you? Silence. Silence and that warm chair. I just sat there, impatient at first, then allowed my eyes to wander over the exquisite winter landscape outside. And I relaxed into that warm easy chair, and marveled at the beauty outside. Huh, I thought, as my shoulders dropped about 3 inches. At least it's warm - and I have a roof over my head. And grudgingly, I offered my thanks to God.

Jesus had had a tough week too. He'd been collecting disciples, he'd been teaching in the synagogue, and casting out demons. On this day, we hear he and his friends had left the synagogue at Capernaum and entered the house of Simon and Andrew - probably for a meal - but discovered that Simon's mother-in-law was sick. Oh great, the disciples probably thought, the mother in law is sick - who's going to prepare a meal for us? Yet Jesus, the text tells us, took her by the hand and lifted her up, and the fever left her, and she began to serve them. After the meal, Mark tells us that "all the whole city" was gathered around the door - and Jesus again cured many - and cast out many demons. What a long day. What a lot must have been on his mind.

Jesus, at this the start of his public ministry had a lot going on. The word was out. He was a great healer, he preached with authority. A lot of people jumped on the bandwagon in Galilee. Followed him, sought his counsel, begged for his healing touch, pressed Him for cures. I imagine his day timer was jam packed.

But there's one little sentence in the middle of today's gospel reading that I left out; so minute it's easy to miss. After all the teaching, and the meal, and the healings, Jesus rested. And in the morning, while it was still very dark, the text tells us, Jesus got up and went to a deserted place where he prayed. Rising early, seeking solitude, and praying were primary - they were committed habits. Jesus knew what we very often forget - that all of our strength comes from God. From the God that Isaiah reminds us "does not faint or grow weary."

Jesus, God Incarnate, Jesus, Savior, Messiah, Son of God - this Jesus made communion with the Father a priority. He sought direction and intimacy with that cosmic force Isaiah describes as that Lord who "gives power to the faint, and strengthens the powerless."

Are we ready to turn over our lives to Him who will strengthen us?

The question becomes, do we "fit" prayer into our lives - like we "fit in" working out or doing a good deed? Or do we make God time a committed habit? Jesus models that commitment throughout his ministry, as if to tell us, "If you are to be my disciples, you need this source of power in you as well." If we are to sense, if we are to discern what God would have us do, then we would do well to follow the example of our Lord, who - at the height of his fame, at the top of his game, retreated to pray. If we are to be Christ's hands and feet in this world, then we, too, must seek God's direction.

Are we ready to turn over our lives to Him who will strengthen us?

I don't want this to be a guilt trip. I don't want anyone leaving here today to be thinking, "Boy, my prayer life is really shabby." But I do want us all to be aware of what we may be missing when prayer life slips. Let's face it, many of us pray simply when things get rough. "Lord, help me pass that test." "Lord, please don't let them give me a pink slip this week." But to know that power, to know that peace, to know that steadfast love of God - that's what deepens our faith. In that intimacy with Our Lord, we gain the strength to go through the tough times. The strength passed on to us allows us to know in the depths of our hearts that we don't travel the way alone.

Are we ready to follow Christ to that deserted place simply to pray? Where is your deserted place? How often do you go there? My friend Bob has a special chair in his house, a chair by a window, with a small table beside it where his Bible rests. Every morning he sits there, sometimes with Bible open, sometimes not, but it is his God chair. My friend Cynthia prays every day while she rows. My friend Ted spends 20 minutes every morning in contemplative prayer - never utters a word, just sits with God, and listens.

Where is that place be for you? How often do you go there?

My retreat time proved restorative. Had I skipped it, I would have been the loser. Because God met me right where I was - with my impatience, my anxiety, and my frustration. Met me there with a warm chair bathed in sunlight and enfolded me in a spirit of gratefulness as I struggled to focus.

Let's face it. To come before God with all our baggage and lay it before him is an act of faith. To return time and again deepens our sensitivity to God's presence where we can finally begin to recognize not only the huge cosmic force that is God, but that still small voice who whispers, "You are my beloved, my chosen. In you I am well pleased." And to know that, gives us the strength to go out into the world with clarity, discerning His will for us, as we strive to be his hands and feet in the world.

Have you not known? Have you not heard?
The LORD does not faint or grow weary; his understanding is unsearchable.
He gives power to the faint, and strengthens the powerless.
May it be so with you.
Amen.