On finding a place to be quiet and pray.
Ordinary Sunday 5: 9th February, 2003
Fr John Davis, Vicar of St Peter's, Eastern Hill
In the morning, while it was still very dark, he got up and went out to a deserted place, and there he prayed. (Mk 1:35)
Mark is trying to get a number of points across to us in these early verses. We remember that Mark doesn't have any of the birth or infancy stories. There is no grand theological prologue like in John. Mark just wants us to know about the nature of the ministry of this Jesus of Nazareth and he wants us early to understand just who he actually is.
So, this first chapter of the gospel begins with John the Baptist 'preparing the way of the Lord'. The Lord is baptised. Peter and Andrew and James and John are called to become disciples. The synagogue in Capernaum is the setting for the first of the healing miracles. Jesus is seen to be teaching with authority. And now he is becoming a sensation. The crowds are gathering. 'The whole city was gathered around the door' is the way that Mark so vividly describes it. His style is that of a no nonsense reporter with an astute eye for detail. Simon Peter's mother in law was also healed of a fever. But it is busy. Too busy. So the Lord gets out and takes a small retreat before moving elsewhere to preach and to heal.
So the gospel set for today is really the description of some 24 hours with the Lord in Capernaum. Mark is setting the scene quickly but carefully for the hearers of these words to recognise both from what John said and by what the Lord is doing, that here is the Messiah, the promised one from God. The miracle working attracts huge attention – people are certainly taking notice and indeed wanting more.
But it is not just or indeed primarily the healing of minds and bodies that the Lord is on about. It is the changing of hearts and the awakening of faith that is the central concern. It is the possibility and the promise of a living connection with God. It is relationship, two-way relationship in prayer and in actions and in priorities in life. These are the central points that Mark is interested in conveying. This Jesus of Nazareth is the key. Again and again, we are going to be brought to see that it is the healing of bodies, yes, but it is the awakening of faith as well. And the one who is doing this is Jesus.
One small but specific example is what happens to Simon Peter's mother in law, mentioned in today's gospel. She had been exhausted by an attack of fever. With her recovery of her former strength, she does what all the rules of hospitality and care say she should do and what she would desperately be wanting to do – she cares for her guests and provides for their needs. This is her specific task and service. This, to put it another way, is her ministry.
When any one of us is struck down and for a time unable to do what we want or need to do – whether our disease is of the heart or of the mind or the body – we know the frustration that that woman would have felt. We know too the relief and the gratitude that we feel if we are indeed able to get our energies back again. But it may well be a time for reconsidering what we put our full, or now not so full, energies into. What are our priorities? Might we consider changing them?
In none of the gospel narratives are the healing miracles the beginning and the end of the story. The problem that Jesus immediately faced was the demand for more. The immediate danger for him was that the superficial, the outward sign could become all that there was seen to be. All that mattered.
Of course the healing of a heart or a mind or a body is of very considerable significance to the individual concerned or to those who love them. But for instance, the removal of a fever needs then to be placed into the wider context of the shape and purpose of an entire life. It is the possibility of an individual being in daily and joyful contact with the love of God. It is, then, the difference between a part and the whole. It gets back to the question of the deeper and life-changing healing of hearts and attitudes. This is the deeper spiritual territory to which Mark is leading us.
Central to this is what the Lord actually did when the crowd started to overwhelm. He left the house before anyone else was awake and went away to a quiet place to reflect and to pray. To re-connect. To reconsider. To restore his own strength. To get the energy to start again, but somewhere else further on, so as many as possible would be able to hear and to experience this good news.
This is important for us to consider. There is a model offered here. There are going to be times when things start to overwhelm. There are going to be times when the best thing to do is to go to a quiet place to be with God and to allow a space where God can start to restore us. In our tradition we are encouraged to use our churches in that way. We have quiet days and retreats that are on offer. We are encouraged to build into our own planning some space for that sort of spiritual quiet.
When Br Tat Hean was ordained last weekend, his ordination was preceded by a retreat of several days. The first item on the ISS program for 2003 is a quiet day here at St Peter's in mid March. One thing very dear to my own heart week by week is the slow but steady development of a place of Retreat in the Dandenongs at Gembrook, for which I am one of the Trustees. This is to be a place of restoration and peace and quiet that is to be a resource for those who seek it. Such places and opportunities are a most wonderful gift.
The opportunity for a place to go to consider again in quiet reflection the good things of the Lord is of course everywhere, if we want it. The Lord in today's gospel just got out and away, at the time of day when no one would be disturbing him. But we can be more intentional about this. This is incidentally a reason why the loss of the diocesan Retreat House in Cheltenham was such a blow to so many, including many here. So we need to be aware of alternatives and looking to develop replacements.
In South Australia, south of Adelaide in a place called Yankalilla, one such place is developing. Christ Church Yankalilla is the location for a developing Shrine, dedicated to Our Lady. Many of us have already heard of this and some have visited. At the moment the scope for residential visits is limited and simple, but that is being worked on. First and foremost, this is a quiet and peaceful place of prayer. But something quite remarkable has happened
This is the place where some believe that the changing appearance of the plaster work in the wall of the sanctuary of the church has within it what can be seen as an image the Virgin Mary and her Son – not as it happens as the Virgin and Child, but of the Mother and her dead son, as in the famous Pieta in St Peter's Rome. I myself have been there now three times, over four years.
For me the most significant thing about this place is not the appearances or the image. What is impressive to me is that this is very clearly a place of prayer and of God's grace at work. What is immediately obvious to the most casual of visitors is the evidence of changed lives and the awakening of faith, to use again the phrase from earlier. In some specific cases this has included the changed lives of people returning and offering grateful thanks for healed hearts, minds and bodies. It is estimated that some 30,000 people visited the Shrine in the last twelve months. So here in our part of the world in these very challenging times, something unusual, certainly Anglican unusual, is happening. It is worth taking note of. Maybe that is a place away from it all, that you might consider in an up-coming holiday.
But the point is, be it Yankalilla, Gembrook, St Peter's on a quiet day in March or just your own deserted place away from it all, make sure that this is and remains an important part of your own spiritual life and search. This is a point too basic to neglect.
In the morning, while it was still very dark, he got up and went out to a deserted place, and there he prayed. (Mk 1:35)
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