Just noise

Mark 1: 21-45

Bits and thoughts, excerpts and ramblings on today's sermon topic.

The Messianic secret

What is going on here? Why does Jesus not want knowledge of the Messiah spread from one end of the earth to the other?

Because Jesus is not about healings, not about signs of power as we define them. Jesus has one purpose, one destination, and he doesn’t want to distract from the significance of that moment—not even a little.

The good news of the Gospel is not the healings. Don’t suggest that the Gospel is the healings. Those people will someday die. “Shut up, demons!” Jesus says. “Don’t pretend like that’s what it’s all about.” Don’t tell anybody. Demons, shut up. You don’t need to tell the world that Jesus is the Son of God. The world values words so little, anyway. You need to show it.

The only way to show it is the cross. The cross, the cross, the cross.  

Jesus knows that healing testimony is weak testimony; it’s too personal, too flimsy. Were you really healed, or did you just get better? You don’t believe because of healings. You don’t believe because of the demons. If you do, you’re only one failed healing away from a lack of faith, or, just as badly, suggesting that the lack of healing is part of God’s plan. It says right there in Mark’s Gospel that Jesus healed “many” who were sick. Not all. Even in the presence of Jesus in the flesh not all those who were sick were healed. Is it because God had a different plan for them? Is it because they were less worthy? No! This isn’t a story about healings.

We tend to put emphasis on the parts of the Bible we need. So if we’re sick then the healings become increasingly important, but this is a kind of self-centeredness. All of it is temporary; all of it is occasional. The real sickness is deeper and harder to believe. The real sickness lies in our heart.

When Jesus heals it seems to be spur-of-the-moment, random, and specifically done not to testify to his holiness. Shh! He says. This is not really what it’s about. So, when we are in need of healing we turn to God in prayer as these people ran to Jesus, but we do so not because we know God will heal us, but because sometimes God does. Miracles happen. They just aren’t the reason we believe.

And, yet, when faced with a miracle the healed can hardly help but preach about it. It’s interesting that the first thing these people do after being healed from a terrible disease is to break a commandment direct from Jesus: Do not tell anybody. Don’t tell anybody, because, as much as you experienced something incredible, this is still not what it is all about. We need something better than healing. We need better even than raising Lazarus from the dead, because Lazarus died again. So will those who are healed.

The cross. The cross. The cross.

Jesus has one destination and one purpose only. To heal not occasionally but once and for all, and to heal not our bodies but all our limitations—and the way this is done is through death. Not healing, actually, but resurrection.

Jesus tells the healed to be quiet because he is not really in the healing business; he’s in the resurrection business. Healing just happens in the presence of the resurrection. It’s a side effect, sometimes even accidental it seems (like the women who touches Jesus’ robes). Healing is just an appetizer; the main course is accomplished on the cross. So, don’t go about testifying about how good the bruschetta is. Wait on the steak. That’s what Jesus is up to. But the appetizer is so good that the people run off, having not yet tasted the main course.

Cross. Resurrection. All the rest of the Gospels merely set the stage. At best they add context; at worst they are a distraction. Don’t be distracted. This is about the cross. It’s about an empty tomb. From the beginning. Mark has no cute birth story, nothing charming about being born in a manger. He doesn’t have the political and social morals of Matthew or Luke. He doesn’t go out of his way to talk about lifting up the poor or go on long rants about being morally right before God. He doesn’t add a deep poetic tone the way John does; he doesn’t waste time on metaphors of light and darkness. Those things are distractions. What matters is the cross. So when Jesus does all manner of increasingly miraculous things Mark has Jesus saying, again and again, “Shh…” Don’t speak. Don’t say a word. Be healed, but be more than that. Be assured because something new is coming. Something extraordinary.

The cross. The cross. The cross.

Everything else is just noise.