Don’t Be Afraid; Just Believe

For all of our advances in health sciences and technology, America is the most obese nation on earth, we are literally eating ourselves to death. We make ourselves sick by mostly preventable diseases.

It’s not just what we eat that is killing us, it’s what we believe about what and why we eat. And too often it’s our fears that drive us to eat what will kill us.

For the ancient people of Israel, much of their fear and anxiety was also food related- except they had opposite problem. Malnutrition, famines, harvest tributes to temple authorities, local rulers and Imperial Rome – all of this prompted grinding poverty, blindness, crippling diseases, and early death.

In our society, when so many of our ailments are self-induced, the real healing isn’t from diabetes, cancer, or heart-attacks. The real healing is for the fear and anxieties that fuel our over-eating, that foments disbelief, that deepens depression, that cut us off from friends, family, neighbors and strangers.

In the gospel story for this week’s devotion, we read about how Jesus heals an anxious woman reduced to poverty by paying doctors to help her find a cure for her chronic bleeding. We read of Jesus going to the wealthy home of a respected but terrified religious leader, to heal his dying daughter. They had much to be afraid of. But they still believed.

Jesus came to Israel not just to heal and save individuals, but to gather disciples that would send to heal and save communities. Jesus came not just to heal women, children and men who were afflicted by the lack of food and medicine, but to subvert the systems that starved and abused communities. The salvation from sin he brought was for this life and the next.

Jesus didn’t do miracles in Israel to prove he was God. He healed his people because he loved them, and as a sign of the compassion of God, affirmation that his way leads to overcoming evil and flourishing for all. This is how his kingdom comes, how his will is done.

When we read this gospel story, we read of a Jesus who loves the world, especially those who are poor in spirit and mourn. We also read of a Jesus who leverages his immense power for healing and restoration, renewing bodies and families. He goes to where he is welcome, he blesses those who want it. “Daughter of Israel, your faith has healed you. Go in peace and be freed from your suffering.”

Sometimes we are the bleeding woman, the dying daughter, the grieving father and mother. Sometimes we are the believing disciples, sent by Jesus with the power to heal anxieties, to stir up trust and courage, to drive out fear with love. In our society, that is the healing we really need, what we are pleading for. “Don’t be afraid; just believe.”

Let’s form learning communities around the way and will of Jesus, for the healing of our fears, for empowering our faithfulness to God, and for belief in one another, anchored in trust.

Can you name the fears that drive you to sickness? What are the anxieties that are wrecking your soul? Why are you eating yourself to death? What if your mind could be transformed by the will and ways of Christ? “Don’t be afraid; just believe.”

May Jesus become present to you, may he connect you to those who will bring about healing for the sickness in your heart, may he embolden your faith, and may his instructions direct our steps towards flourishing for all: “Don’t be afraid; just believe.”

For Those Who Cry Out For Mercy

When I was a kid, we had a huge backyard. One summer my dad put together a jungle gym for us four boys. We had loads of fun climbing it and especially jumping off of it.

One afternoon we were inspired to play superheros. I jumped off with a big shout, “Superman!” When I landed my mouth was full of blood – I had bit my tongue while shouting and landing. I had a hard time calling out for help, but my mom quickly figured it out and mercifully took care of me.

Sometimes when people get hurt, they have a hard time asking for help. Not just because of bitten tongues, though. Sometimes people are wounded in such a way that they drive away the very people who could help them. Sometimes we can know how to help them, but they make it really hard to do so. What to do?

In the gospels we read that Jesus came across a man calling out for mercy, a dangerous exile who had terrorized the region, who was tormented within. The authorities tried to bind him hand and foot with chains to keep him out of sight and sound. His cries echoed off the hills as he cut himself with the ragged stones. What would you do with a dangerous man like him?

Jesus musters up his power and commands the tormenting spirit to come out of the man. It resists, begging Jesus not to torture him. Jesus asks him, “What is your name?” he replies, “My name is Legion for we are many.” The demons beg Jesus not to be sent out of the area, and so he casts them out of the man into a large herd of pigs feeding on the nearby hillside.

When Jesus cast Legion out of the exiled man, he was not only healing him, but giving him a glimpse of what can happen when his kingdom comes. Mercy is is how Jesus subverts the rule of tormenting spirits, and mercy is how the tortured are transformed. Mercy is what triumphs in Jesus’ kingdom.

Everyday we come across people who are crying out for mercy in some way. They may not necessarily use those words, but deep in their soul that is what they cry for. The tormented man who met Jesus on the shoreline was confrontational, anguished, and bleeding. It was not an easy encounter for Jesus. But mercy is what Jesus does. And it’s what he calls us to do.  Mercy transforms both ways.

Roman legions had tormented this region for many decades. Rebels were commonly crucified along the highways, reminding the people to submit or die. The pigs of the region were likely sold to the soldiers, thus catching the local citizens in a merciless trap – they made their livelihood off of feeding their enemies.

No wonder the people were afraid and pleaded Jesus to leave immediately. If Jesus was regarded as a king, and he had just sent the legions food-stock into the sea, they feared this was a politically motivated terrorist act. Reprisals would be swift and brutal.

Jesus understood, and he left as they asked. But when the healed exile asked to come with Jesus, he was given a mission: “Go home to your own people and tell them how much the Lord has done for you, and how he has had mercy on you.”

The man healed by Jesus’ mercy was given a mission of mercy: go back to the ones who beat you, chained you, exiled you and proclaim the mercy of God upon them. Teach them the kingdom way of mercy, help them learn to be merciful to their oppressors, just as the exile is doing to his exilers. Mercy transforms both ways.

Whoever you meet, even if they are a difficult person, look to extend them mercy. With patient resolve and firm kindness, through the merciful power of the Spirit of Christ, don’t misunderestimate the healing you can bring to them through listening, being present, even fighting for them. It’s often the least of these that need mercy the most; and it is here where we will find Jesus. Mercy that heals, frees, and sends.

Surviving Storms

When I was in high school, my best friend and I took our small speed boat out onto the lake with some friends, even though we knew a storm was coming. We were hoping to have some fun skiing and tubing before the rain came.

As it started to drizzle, we decided it was a good time to head into shore. But it was too late! The winds became vicious, the waves big, we made it back to the dock – soaked and scared.

Storms are part of our life on Earth. It’s nothing personal, just part of how the ecosystem works. With some accumulated wisdom, preparation, and cooperation, we can survive most storms.

But as we know, there are storms that swamp us unexpected. And not just windstorms, but also soul-storms, hearts breaking open with tears of sorrow, hopes battered by rains of disappointment. What then?

 

This was the kind of stormy political and personal place the disciples of Jesus were in as they crossed the furious Sea of Galilee with him one evening. As people of Israel, their souls ached for God to return the nation to their former days of glory when a son of David reigned as king, ruling with justice, mercy, and humility.

Instead, they struggled to survive under the violent thumb of the Roman Empire – prior to that it was enduring the turbulent rule of the Greek Empire, and before that putting up with the powerful Persian Empire, which had inherited Israel from the Babylonian Empire. Imagine trying to survive amidst those political terrors.

The gospel that Jesus was preaching centered on the announcement that God had indeed returned to Israel to reestablish the throne of David – the kingdom of God was coming, so be prepared. It was difficult for the people of Israel to believe that Jesus was the king come to save them. Slowly Jesus would reveal who he really was, usually in decisive moments, often times in the midst of personal, political, and powerful storms.

For the disciples in the boat with him, they were terrified that they were going to die. The furious squall stirred up fear, and it swamped their faith. That’s what storms can do. Interestingly, even with Jesus in the boat, they still had no faith in him.

Sometimes we think that if we could only see Jesus, it’d be easier to believe in him. But that wasn’t the case with the disciples or the people of Israel. Seeing is not always believing.

Jesus asks his disciples, “Why are you so afraid?” Why are you so afraid of death? Why are you so afraid of chaos? Why are you so afraid…? To his disciples who had been with him, he spoke straight: “Do you still have no faith?”

Storms not only reveal our fears, and our lack of faith, but also the faithfulness of Jesus to us. Some storms he will calm. But he can’t and won’t still all the storms of our life. Storms are part of life, and through them we can see our fears and become open to the faithfulness and presence of Jesus.

Jesus is present to people in this stormy world by his Spirit and by his people who are faithful to him. When we have storms, we must receive the people God sends to be with us.

But when others are swamped by their storms, will we let God send us to be with them, to bring the presence of Christ to them amidst their fears and drowning faith?

Whether the storms are personal, political, or powerful natural phenomena – may Jesus’s faithfulness calm our fears when we barely believe, may our surviving make us braver, that we may extend the presence of Christ together in bigger storms to come.