Rest for the Weary
7/18/15 (Proper 11/Ordinary 16B Semi-Continuous)
2 Samuel 7:1-14a; Mark 6:30-34, 53-56
There’s a popular adage that gets thrown around any time someone finds themselves up to their neck with work. Depending upon who you hear it from, it’s either “There’s no rest for the wicked,” or “There’s no rest for the weary.” I had a neighbor growing up who used to say “There’s no rest for the wicked and the righteous don’t need any.” Regardless of the version you are most familiar with, the sentiment it expresses is one we’ve all felt. And if we take today’s reading from Mark’s gospel into consideration, we discover that it’s the perfect portrayal of this proverbial statement.
As we’ve journeyed together through the lectionary over the last few weeks, we’ve had the opportunity to see Jesus engaged full-swing in his ministry on earth. He’s resurrected Jairus’ daughter, healed a hemorrhaging woman, and sent the disciples to their own mission. The impact of his ministry has been so strong that we even hear that Herod believes him to be John the Baptist resurrected after his fateful encounter with Herod’s wife and daughter. Jesus’ ministry, along with that of the apostles, is so active and busy that as all the various apostles are coming back and reporting the results of their ministries, Mark’s gospel tells us that “so many people were coming and going that they did not even have a chance to eat.” It’s no wonder, then, that as they are all finally gathered in one place for even two seconds, Jesus encourages his disciples to come with him to a deserted, solitary place to rest for a while!
How distressing it must have been, then, for Jesus and the disciples, when people saw them leaving and simply decided to beat Jesus to his destination on foot. Here is Jesus, telling his disciples to find a chance for some rest in a quiet, peaceful place, yet even the quiet places are filled with people who know him and who seek his ministries! I can almost see Jesus hang his head for a second, mutter “There’s no rest for the weary,” take a deep breath, and then raise his head before going back to the people.
It’s a situation which I’m sure most of us are able to sympathize with - it seems that there is always something demanding of our time and attention. At times, it seems that there truly is no rest - wicked, weary, or otherwise. This summer in particular, the demands on peoples’ time and energy have been incredible: the last week of hot, sunny weather has been a blessing to farmers even as it’s been a strain trying to make time to till, to plant, and to wait for crops to finally start growing. For our gardens, it’s been a time to take stock, to clear out withered plants and to see if it’s possible to salvage something out of the season. Our kids have quarry leagues, traveling teams, school sports teams, after-school organizations, marching band, plays and musicals, music lessons, summer camps, playdates, doctor’s appointments, and more. Add into the mix any of the other community organizations we may be a part of, and we’re lucky if we even have any time to sleep, let alone relax or just spend some time in solitude. Somewhere in there, we also have to mow. Even when we have those times for solitude, we’re so used to being busy that we almost can’t stand it; we need to have something filling that down-time. Whether it’s surfing the internet, playing games, listening to music, or talking to our friends, we need to have something to fill our waking moments. I wish I could really embrace the example of some of the people I've seen here in town who can manage the sheer discipline of taking time to sit in a lawn chair out in their yards or on their porches, just doing watching the world pass by around them. It is a discipline - it’s almost meditative, prayer-like… it’s a stunning embodiment of one of the most challenging, and yet the simplest, instructions that we hear in our Scriptures: “Be still and know that I am God.”
Our time is so tightly budgeted anymore. For many of us, even our life as Christians is relegated to the time we put in at the church - as if the church is the one “solitary place” of which Jesus speaks in Mark’s gospel that we can retreat to and recharge, and so once we’ve put in our due time, we can feel free to go about the rest of our week knowing that we’ve fulfilled all of our responsibilities.
There’s a bit of a problem with this way of thinking, however - namely this: God can’t be contained! God is not something we can simply budget to an hour on a Sunday afternoon, or even to a few moments each day before we go to sleep, before we eat, or as we rise in the morning. This is what we hear God telling David in the book of 2 Samuel as David proposes to build a temple in which God can make his dwelling place. David has finally found a time of rest from his enemies and from all the troubles of establishing his kingdom, and so he decides that it is not right that he is dwelling in a house of Cedar, but that God’s earthly presence with the ark is still dwelling in a tent. Yet God speaks to David through Nathan the prophet and says, “Who are you to build me a house? I’ve lived in a tent and a tabernacle from the day I brought your people up out of Egypt! I’m a God who’s on the move, constantly with my people wherever they go. You say you’re going to build me a house, but I’m the one who’s going to build you a Dynasty!” We can’t presume to put God in a box, to keep the body of Christ contained inside the walls of the church building. God is bigger than the limitations we try to set upon God, and God is eager and willing to prove that to us every step of the way.
Look at what Mark describes as Jesus’ response to the people coming to the place of solitude that he encouraged the disciples to go to. He could have sent the people away; he could have turned around with the disciples and went to find somewhere else to rest. But instead, the gospel says he “Had compassion on them, because they were like sheep without a shepherd.” Jesus reaches out to these people in his time of rest, strives to teach them, and heals them of their afflictions. In the space between the verses we read today in Mark, Jesus’ ministry continues through the feeding of the 5,000, which we will explore through John’s gospel next week. Jesus doesn’t stop ministering to people - though he does find moments to spend in prayerful solitude, particularly after major moments in his ministry, Jesus never stops ministering to the crowds. Even in the deserted places, or perhaps even especially in the deserted places, Jesus encounters and meets the needs of the people around him.
It’s the same thing for us as the church - we need to be constantly reminded of this reality, of the fact that God cannot be confined, that the church extends beyond the walls of the sanctuary and the fellowship room as the living and active body of Christ, reaching out to all those in need. When we come to church, we need to be reminded of all of those who are in need, who have reached the places of solitude ahead of us and who are waiting there in front of us with all of their needs. Our time of worship together is a time of solitude, a time that helps re-charge us and re-connect us with our source, much in the same way that the disciples had but a brief moment to catch their breath and to debrief before the crowds came pressing back in, but as we end each time of worship together, we end with a benediction - a sending out that takes us from the bounds of the church building and compels us out into the world. We have the absolute joy of being able to take our experience of God and to carry it with us, to share it with others, and to encourage them to seek it as well. We, as the body of Christ, have the responsibility to go and reach out with the compassion of Christ to all those among us who are “sheep without a shepherd.” And as we go out into the world, spreading the good news of the gospel, let us find our own rest in God’s compassion. Let us go out together in service, under the guidance of the Holy Spirit, and to the glory of God our magnificent Father. Amen.
2 Samuel 7:1-14a; Mark 6:30-34, 53-56
Rest for the Weary
There’s a popular adage that gets thrown around any time someone finds themselves up to their neck with work. Depending upon who you hear it from, it’s either “There’s no rest for the wicked,” or “There’s no rest for the weary.” I had a neighbor growing up who used to say “There’s no rest for the wicked and the righteous don’t need any.” Regardless of the version you are most familiar with, the sentiment it expresses is one we’ve all felt. And if we take today’s reading from Mark’s gospel into consideration, we discover that it’s the perfect portrayal of this proverbial statement.
As we’ve journeyed together through the lectionary over the last few weeks, we’ve had the opportunity to see Jesus engaged full-swing in his ministry on earth. He’s resurrected Jairus’ daughter, healed a hemorrhaging woman, and sent the disciples to their own mission. The impact of his ministry has been so strong that we even hear that Herod believes him to be John the Baptist resurrected after his fateful encounter with Herod’s wife and daughter. Jesus’ ministry, along with that of the apostles, is so active and busy that as all the various apostles are coming back and reporting the results of their ministries, Mark’s gospel tells us that “so many people were coming and going that they did not even have a chance to eat.” It’s no wonder, then, that as they are all finally gathered in one place for even two seconds, Jesus encourages his disciples to come with him to a deserted, solitary place to rest for a while!
How distressing it must have been, then, for Jesus and the disciples, when people saw them leaving and simply decided to beat Jesus to his destination on foot. Here is Jesus, telling his disciples to find a chance for some rest in a quiet, peaceful place, yet even the quiet places are filled with people who know him and who seek his ministries! I can almost see Jesus hang his head for a second, mutter “There’s no rest for the weary,” take a deep breath, and then raise his head before going back to the people.
It’s a situation which I’m sure most of us are able to sympathize with - it seems that there is always something demanding of our time and attention. At times, it seems that there truly is no rest - wicked, weary, or otherwise. This summer in particular, the demands on peoples’ time and energy have been incredible: the last week of hot, sunny weather has been a blessing to farmers even as it’s been a strain trying to make time to till, to plant, and to wait for crops to finally start growing. For our gardens, it’s been a time to take stock, to clear out withered plants and to see if it’s possible to salvage something out of the season. Our kids have quarry leagues, traveling teams, school sports teams, after-school organizations, marching band, plays and musicals, music lessons, summer camps, playdates, doctor’s appointments, and more. Add into the mix any of the other community organizations we may be a part of, and we’re lucky if we even have any time to sleep, let alone relax or just spend some time in solitude. Somewhere in there, we also have to mow. Even when we have those times for solitude, we’re so used to being busy that we almost can’t stand it; we need to have something filling that down-time. Whether it’s surfing the internet, playing games, listening to music, or talking to our friends, we need to have something to fill our waking moments. I wish I could really embrace the example of some of the people I've seen here in town who can manage the sheer discipline of taking time to sit in a lawn chair out in their yards or on their porches, just doing watching the world pass by around them. It is a discipline - it’s almost meditative, prayer-like… it’s a stunning embodiment of one of the most challenging, and yet the simplest, instructions that we hear in our Scriptures: “Be still and know that I am God.”
Our time is so tightly budgeted anymore. For many of us, even our life as Christians is relegated to the time we put in at the church - as if the church is the one “solitary place” of which Jesus speaks in Mark’s gospel that we can retreat to and recharge, and so once we’ve put in our due time, we can feel free to go about the rest of our week knowing that we’ve fulfilled all of our responsibilities.
There’s a bit of a problem with this way of thinking, however - namely this: God can’t be contained! God is not something we can simply budget to an hour on a Sunday afternoon, or even to a few moments each day before we go to sleep, before we eat, or as we rise in the morning. This is what we hear God telling David in the book of 2 Samuel as David proposes to build a temple in which God can make his dwelling place. David has finally found a time of rest from his enemies and from all the troubles of establishing his kingdom, and so he decides that it is not right that he is dwelling in a house of Cedar, but that God’s earthly presence with the ark is still dwelling in a tent. Yet God speaks to David through Nathan the prophet and says, “Who are you to build me a house? I’ve lived in a tent and a tabernacle from the day I brought your people up out of Egypt! I’m a God who’s on the move, constantly with my people wherever they go. You say you’re going to build me a house, but I’m the one who’s going to build you a Dynasty!” We can’t presume to put God in a box, to keep the body of Christ contained inside the walls of the church building. God is bigger than the limitations we try to set upon God, and God is eager and willing to prove that to us every step of the way.
Look at what Mark describes as Jesus’ response to the people coming to the place of solitude that he encouraged the disciples to go to. He could have sent the people away; he could have turned around with the disciples and went to find somewhere else to rest. But instead, the gospel says he “Had compassion on them, because they were like sheep without a shepherd.” Jesus reaches out to these people in his time of rest, strives to teach them, and heals them of their afflictions. In the space between the verses we read today in Mark, Jesus’ ministry continues through the feeding of the 5,000, which we will explore through John’s gospel next week. Jesus doesn’t stop ministering to people - though he does find moments to spend in prayerful solitude, particularly after major moments in his ministry, Jesus never stops ministering to the crowds. Even in the deserted places, or perhaps even especially in the deserted places, Jesus encounters and meets the needs of the people around him.
It’s the same thing for us as the church - we need to be constantly reminded of this reality, of the fact that God cannot be confined, that the church extends beyond the walls of the sanctuary and the fellowship room as the living and active body of Christ, reaching out to all those in need. When we come to church, we need to be reminded of all of those who are in need, who have reached the places of solitude ahead of us and who are waiting there in front of us with all of their needs. Our time of worship together is a time of solitude, a time that helps re-charge us and re-connect us with our source, much in the same way that the disciples had but a brief moment to catch their breath and to debrief before the crowds came pressing back in, but as we end each time of worship together, we end with a benediction - a sending out that takes us from the bounds of the church building and compels us out into the world. We have the absolute joy of being able to take our experience of God and to carry it with us, to share it with others, and to encourage them to seek it as well. We, as the body of Christ, have the responsibility to go and reach out with the compassion of Christ to all those among us who are “sheep without a shepherd.” And as we go out into the world, spreading the good news of the gospel, let us find our own rest in God’s compassion. Let us go out together in service, under the guidance of the Holy Spirit, and to the glory of God our magnificent Father. Amen.
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