February 7, 2021
Year B: The Fifth Sunday after the Epiphany
Isaiah 40:21-31
Psalm 147:1-12, 21c
1 Corinthians 9:16-23
Mark 1:29-39
Urgency
So, I’m going to begin this morning with a little confession.
Some of you know that every Episcopal church keeps what’s called a service register. As you’d probably guess, it’s a book in which we keep a record of all our services, including details like how many people attended, how many people received Communion, and so on.
Each year before our annual meeting I refer to the service register to calculate statistics like our “average Sunday attendance,” numbers that give at least one measure of our church’s health.
In normal times, we keep the service register on the desk back there in the sacristy. And that’s where it has been during all of these long months of the pandemic.
And, in normal times, I am particular about the service register – making sure that all of our services are accurately recorded, making sure we only use black ink!
But – and here’s the confession part – I had not made an entry in that book since Sunday, March 15, 2020 – the first time that Sue and I and my iPhone were alone here, hoping that at least some of you had managed to find us on Facebook.
After we finished that first online service, wondering if you had been able to see and hear us, hoping that we wouldn’t have to do church this way for too long, I sat at the desk just as I usually did and entered the numbers: two people present, two communions.
And that was it.
Week after week, I saw the service register on the desk, open to a half blank page, and I thought about getting back on track, but I just couldn’t seem to do it. I’m sure part of it was just usual procrastination, but it was more than that. There didn’t seem to be much point – no one would be looking at that book anytime soon – and there was something just depressing and demoralizing about keeping track of all of these services when we have not been together as we would have liked.
But, last week, with our “parish assembly” looming, I finally brought the register home with me, and began entering not just all of our Sundays but also all of our Church By Phone services. It’s a lot! I got as far as September before my hand started to cramp, and I plan to finish the last few months this afternoon.
And, as I was entering all of this information, recording all of the praying that we have been doing, I began to feel a renewed sense of urgency.
We need to remember what we have been through together, how we have remained faithful despite all of the obstacles and sadness – and we need to continue and expand our ministries.
Even if you don’t have a service register of your own, I think many of you can relate to my experience.
The long months of the pandemic sank many of us into a real funk. It took most of our energy just to take care of our basic needs, to meet our most important responsibilities.
I think because we couldn’t see when and how this would end, the bare minimum was the best we could do.
But, lately, a sense of urgency has returned.
It may have begun with the presidential election, which offered two very different candidates and two wildly different visions of our future – an election that attracted a record number of voters.
And this sense of urgency has definitely continued with the rollout of the vaccine.
I’m glad to say that I’ve heard from many of you who are eager, determined to get vaccinated – calling and emailing the city, the county, the hospital – sometimes calling and emailing repeatedly – and now, finally, some among us are getting vaccinated, and can’t wait for the second dose, and the return of at least some freedom and security.
Finally, on the horizon, we can see the day when we will at last be reunited and I can start entering some bigger numbers into our service register.
Urgency.
Last week I mentioned how almost everyone agrees that the Gospel of Mark was the first of the gospels to be completed, around the year 70.
It’s also the shortest, most barebones of the gospels. It’s like Mark just can’t wait to tell the story of Jesus. There’s no time to wait. The whole gospel is driven by a sense of urgency.
Last time, we heard Jesus begin his ministry at the Capernaum synagogue, wowing everybody with his authoritative teaching, and then most dramatically, casting an unclean spirit out from a poor suffering man.
When things like that happen, you know that word is going to get around, right?
This week we pick up right where we left off. Jesus has had his eventful time in the synagogue and now he and the disciples return to Peter and Andrew’s house, where Peter’s mother-in-law was sick with a fever. Jesus heals her and with almost comical urgency she immediately gets up and starts to serve everyone else.
Whenever I read this story I think of the many people I’ve known who never want any fuss about themselves – even when they’re sick – they just want to be of service to others.
Then, that night, it seems the whole town turns up at the door, bringing to Jesus all the people who needed healing.
We’re told that Jesus healed many of them and then early the next morning – more like the middle of the night, really – Jesus heads out to the wilderness to pray.
But, he’s a celebrity by now, and the disciples and the crowd pursue him – hunt him. They’re looking for more healing – for more good news.
And the story concludes with Jesus and the disciples leaving Capernaum and heading out to other towns where people also needed healing and good news.
There is urgency in every element of this story.
Peter’s mother-in-law doesn’t wait even a minute to start serving others.
The crowd throngs around the house, urgently hoping for healing.
Jesus gets up in the middle of the night, urgently looking for some quiet time with the Father.
The crowd urgently pursues Jesus even into the wilderness.
And, finally, Jesus knows there is no time to waste – he’s got to hit the road and travel to other towns, continuing his teaching and healing.
Urgency.
And now here we are today.
We are not quite out of the woods – Covid remains very dangerous and it will take time to get most of us vaccinated – but it feels like hope is finally helping us shake off some of our funk, beginning to dream of life when all of this is finally behind us.
And, I suspect – I hope – that we will return to our Christian lives with a renewed urgency.
In normal times, many of us received Communion pretty much every week. And, maybe, we took that for granted, forgetting the awesomeness of receiving Christ into our bodies, into our souls.
I know – because I’ve gotten calls and emails – that many of you urgently want to receive Communion – to receive one of the wafers that we are about to consecrate on the altar today and that will be distributed next Saturday and shared together next Sunday.
In normal times, maybe a lot of us counted on others to do the praying, others to do the ministry.
But, I know that many of us have been praying more urgently than before – praying on our own and praying together on the phone or here on Facebook.
And I know that many of us have been taking on ministries more urgently than before – calling people, sending cards to people who might need cheering up, giving donations to help people down at Triangle Park.
Sonia has still been making lunch for the guests at the homeless drop-in center.
Deacon Jill has been urgently plowing ahead in getting the Lighthouse reopened. Soon we will once again provide hospitality to refugees and asylees.
Our Sunday School teachers have been urgently trying to keep our kids engaged, using WhatsApp to teach their lessons.
After years of thinking about it, some of us are urgently beginning our oral history project, collecting the stories of our longtime parishioners so we can better understand our past and be a more faithful church today and tomorrow.
It feels to me like something has shifted – all of our many worship and prayer services are finally being entered into the service register – we’re getting up from our sick beds and serving others – Jesus is healing our worn-out hearts – and Jesus is back on the road, seeking out the sick and the lost – and, as always, Jesus invites us to walk beside him.
Let's get going. There's no time to waste.
Amen.