Today's Reading: Mark 1:29-39
For several months, I had been receiving on line invitations from people I knew to join something called facebook.com. I had no clue what facebook.com was, so I ignored the invitations. Finally, early last week I received an invitation from an old high school friend who I deeply respected so I thought I would look into it.
In my exhaustive research, I found out that facebook.com was a website whose sole purpose was to be a social networking tool that could help you reconnect with people from your past. It sounded harmless enough, so I joined. And within the first twenty-four hours, I had re-connected with nearly a dozen folks from high school.
It was fascinating to learn what those people had been up to over the last twenty-five years. One of the guys who had been a quiet, laid back person in school was now an inspirational speaker. One of the girls who was a socialite was now a faculty member at a prestigious university. Another was managing a band. If you would have asked us during our last year of high school in 1985 to predict where we would be today, none of us could have predicted!
Two days into my web presence, I got an email from an old friend asking what I was doing. I paused as I started typing my response, however, because you never know how people are going to react when they hear you’re a pastor. I finished my email, hit the send button, and waited for a reply.
A few hours later, it came.
“That’s cool about you being a pastor and all. But I’m not really a church person so I have no clue what you people do. What exactly do pastors do, anyway?”
I didn’t blame him for asking because most folks have no clue what we do with ourselves the 167 hours a week when we aren’t in worship.
“Well,” I typed back, “it depends on the day. In the past week, for instance, I’ve done things like spend three days visiting hospitals, doing half a dozen visits, mentoring two candidates for ordination, putting on a denominational training, attended a couple of mandatory denominational meetings, written a couple of sermons, answered some late night phone calls, and hung out at the Pepsi Center for an Avalanche game.”
“Wow, you’re all over the place,” my friend wrote back. “How do you maintain your focus?”
“That is the question,” I replied. I smiled as I hit the send button. I smiled because the email exchange reminded me a great deal of someone I had been thinking about this week. A person who – like myself - found himself pulled in a hundred different directions. A person who made a house call to touch base with a sick relative of a friend. A person who worked into the late hours of the night bringing healing and relief to the afflicted. A person who spent his early mornings tucked quietly away for moments of centering. And a person who put a ton of mileage on his own chasis traveling the countryside.
That person?
Jesus.
I found this stories about Jesus particularly interesting for reasons that differ markedly from other pastors I know who were planning to preach on the text. In talking with my clergy peers, most of them were fascinated with the aspects of the story that told of Jesus’ ability to heal. Others were intrigued by Jesus’ silencing of the demons in verse 34. Some wanted to explore what they perceived of as the sexist dimension of the story involving Peter’s mother-in-law. Still others planned to emphasize Jesus’ commitment to cultivating his own spiritual life.
All of those themes would certainly be worth exploring. But for me, my primary interest took me in a different direction – a direction along the lines of the question my friend raised in his email. I wanted to use the passage to arrive at a better understanding of how someone who is pulled in a thousand different directions during the course of his or her day can make it through the day without burning out, or collapsing.
Is there anyone else here who might like to pursue that direction in hopes it can help you do the same thing?
Well, for those who are interested in pursing that topic, I want to take a moment and share the insight I gleaned from this morning’s passage. The rest of you who aren’t interested have my permission to eavesdrop.
I found the answer to my question hidden quietly in the second to last sentence of this morning’s passage. Immediately after being informed by the disciples of the various new demands on his time, Jesus responded by saying: “Let’s go to the rest of the villages so I can preach there also. This is why I’ve come.” I actually like the New Revised Standard Version’s translation of that statement better that translates “preaching” as “proclaim the message”.
You see Jesus had such a clear sense of purpose that he was able to use it to guide his life from moment to moment. When a loved one of a disciple was in serious need of relief, Jesus instinctively knew that proclamation should take the form of lifting a fever. When he moved through the crowds and bumped into the afflicted, he knew that proclamation took the form of healing. When the excised demons threatened to speak of Jesus’ powers to others – Jesus knew that the notoriety he would gain would interfere with his ability to proclaim the reign of God – so he immediately silenced them. And when faced with the prospect of developing a ministry focused simply around healing, Jesus walked away from the opportunity – knowing that it would force him to lose sight of his call.
Everything in Jesus’ life was measured against the standard of his passion – proclaiming the message through word and deed.
So how do everyday folks like you and I who are simultaneously pulled in a thousand directions, begin to develop that sort of clarity?
There are literally thousands of books and hundreds of seminars on the topic. But this morning, I want to give you one idea that can help you arrive at such a place.
The idea is something that helps you discover what the world would call your guiding passion – or what our faith would call your spiritual gift.
My primary spiritual gift, for instance, is the gift of healing. And if you watch me closely during the course of a day, you’ll notice I consistently gravitate toward opportunities where I can use my gift. When given the opportunity to rush off to my third denominational meeting of the week, or do a hospital visit – guess where you’ll find me? If I have the chance to mediate a conflict between two people, or spend a little extra time doing research for a sermon – guess where you’ll find me? If I have the chance to mentor a clergy colleague in crisis, or sit in the office answering sales calls – guess where I’ll be? That simple seven letter word – healing – is the principle that guides my life.
My question for you today is this: what’s yours?
Thirty-nine of you have already taken steps to answer that question by filling out the spiritual gifts inventory that I introduced into the life of the community 3 years ago.
Rick’s primary spiritual gift is the gift of administration – that is he has the gift to “organize people and resources for greater efficiency, effectiveness, and success.” Deb Overn? She has the primary spiritual gift of compassion – that means she has the gift of “deep intuition and insight” into the human condition. Mary Royston? She has the primary spiritual gift of faith – that is the gift of “confidence that [the] people of God can rise above any obstacle”. And Jon Kukick? He has the primary spiritual gift of servanthood – that means he does “not choose to serve, but serve[s] from a sense of identity and call.” Thirty-nine of you have taken the first steps to find that guiding principle in your life that can help you find a sense of clarity. For those of you who have not yet taken it, you’ll find copies on the circular table outside the sanctuary doors.
This year – during the 40 days of Lent leading up to Easter – my primary emphasis will be on working with folks to first discover and then begin developing your spiritual gifts. My hope is that by the time we reach Easter this year, you’ll be more equipped to sort through the various demands others would place on you so that you can arrive at the most important place of all – the place where God is calling you.
Amen
In my exhaustive research, I found out that facebook.com was a website whose sole purpose was to be a social networking tool that could help you reconnect with people from your past. It sounded harmless enough, so I joined. And within the first twenty-four hours, I had re-connected with nearly a dozen folks from high school.
It was fascinating to learn what those people had been up to over the last twenty-five years. One of the guys who had been a quiet, laid back person in school was now an inspirational speaker. One of the girls who was a socialite was now a faculty member at a prestigious university. Another was managing a band. If you would have asked us during our last year of high school in 1985 to predict where we would be today, none of us could have predicted!
Two days into my web presence, I got an email from an old friend asking what I was doing. I paused as I started typing my response, however, because you never know how people are going to react when they hear you’re a pastor. I finished my email, hit the send button, and waited for a reply.
A few hours later, it came.
“That’s cool about you being a pastor and all. But I’m not really a church person so I have no clue what you people do. What exactly do pastors do, anyway?”
I didn’t blame him for asking because most folks have no clue what we do with ourselves the 167 hours a week when we aren’t in worship.
“Well,” I typed back, “it depends on the day. In the past week, for instance, I’ve done things like spend three days visiting hospitals, doing half a dozen visits, mentoring two candidates for ordination, putting on a denominational training, attended a couple of mandatory denominational meetings, written a couple of sermons, answered some late night phone calls, and hung out at the Pepsi Center for an Avalanche game.”
“Wow, you’re all over the place,” my friend wrote back. “How do you maintain your focus?”
“That is the question,” I replied. I smiled as I hit the send button. I smiled because the email exchange reminded me a great deal of someone I had been thinking about this week. A person who – like myself - found himself pulled in a hundred different directions. A person who made a house call to touch base with a sick relative of a friend. A person who worked into the late hours of the night bringing healing and relief to the afflicted. A person who spent his early mornings tucked quietly away for moments of centering. And a person who put a ton of mileage on his own chasis traveling the countryside.
That person?
Jesus.
I found this stories about Jesus particularly interesting for reasons that differ markedly from other pastors I know who were planning to preach on the text. In talking with my clergy peers, most of them were fascinated with the aspects of the story that told of Jesus’ ability to heal. Others were intrigued by Jesus’ silencing of the demons in verse 34. Some wanted to explore what they perceived of as the sexist dimension of the story involving Peter’s mother-in-law. Still others planned to emphasize Jesus’ commitment to cultivating his own spiritual life.
All of those themes would certainly be worth exploring. But for me, my primary interest took me in a different direction – a direction along the lines of the question my friend raised in his email. I wanted to use the passage to arrive at a better understanding of how someone who is pulled in a thousand different directions during the course of his or her day can make it through the day without burning out, or collapsing.
Is there anyone else here who might like to pursue that direction in hopes it can help you do the same thing?
Well, for those who are interested in pursing that topic, I want to take a moment and share the insight I gleaned from this morning’s passage. The rest of you who aren’t interested have my permission to eavesdrop.
I found the answer to my question hidden quietly in the second to last sentence of this morning’s passage. Immediately after being informed by the disciples of the various new demands on his time, Jesus responded by saying: “Let’s go to the rest of the villages so I can preach there also. This is why I’ve come.” I actually like the New Revised Standard Version’s translation of that statement better that translates “preaching” as “proclaim the message”.
You see Jesus had such a clear sense of purpose that he was able to use it to guide his life from moment to moment. When a loved one of a disciple was in serious need of relief, Jesus instinctively knew that proclamation should take the form of lifting a fever. When he moved through the crowds and bumped into the afflicted, he knew that proclamation took the form of healing. When the excised demons threatened to speak of Jesus’ powers to others – Jesus knew that the notoriety he would gain would interfere with his ability to proclaim the reign of God – so he immediately silenced them. And when faced with the prospect of developing a ministry focused simply around healing, Jesus walked away from the opportunity – knowing that it would force him to lose sight of his call.
Everything in Jesus’ life was measured against the standard of his passion – proclaiming the message through word and deed.
So how do everyday folks like you and I who are simultaneously pulled in a thousand directions, begin to develop that sort of clarity?
There are literally thousands of books and hundreds of seminars on the topic. But this morning, I want to give you one idea that can help you arrive at such a place.
The idea is something that helps you discover what the world would call your guiding passion – or what our faith would call your spiritual gift.
My primary spiritual gift, for instance, is the gift of healing. And if you watch me closely during the course of a day, you’ll notice I consistently gravitate toward opportunities where I can use my gift. When given the opportunity to rush off to my third denominational meeting of the week, or do a hospital visit – guess where you’ll find me? If I have the chance to mediate a conflict between two people, or spend a little extra time doing research for a sermon – guess where you’ll find me? If I have the chance to mentor a clergy colleague in crisis, or sit in the office answering sales calls – guess where I’ll be? That simple seven letter word – healing – is the principle that guides my life.
My question for you today is this: what’s yours?
Thirty-nine of you have already taken steps to answer that question by filling out the spiritual gifts inventory that I introduced into the life of the community 3 years ago.
Rick’s primary spiritual gift is the gift of administration – that is he has the gift to “organize people and resources for greater efficiency, effectiveness, and success.” Deb Overn? She has the primary spiritual gift of compassion – that means she has the gift of “deep intuition and insight” into the human condition. Mary Royston? She has the primary spiritual gift of faith – that is the gift of “confidence that [the] people of God can rise above any obstacle”. And Jon Kukick? He has the primary spiritual gift of servanthood – that means he does “not choose to serve, but serve[s] from a sense of identity and call.” Thirty-nine of you have taken the first steps to find that guiding principle in your life that can help you find a sense of clarity. For those of you who have not yet taken it, you’ll find copies on the circular table outside the sanctuary doors.
This year – during the 40 days of Lent leading up to Easter – my primary emphasis will be on working with folks to first discover and then begin developing your spiritual gifts. My hope is that by the time we reach Easter this year, you’ll be more equipped to sort through the various demands others would place on you so that you can arrive at the most important place of all – the place where God is calling you.
Amen
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