2 Kings 4: (8-17) 18-21 (22-31) 32-37                                                                                                         Psalm 142

1 Corinthians 9:16-23                                                                                                                               Mark 1:29-39

Miracles and Response

          Now Simon’s mother-in-law was in bed with a fever, and they told him about her at once. He came and took her by the hand and lifted her up. Then the fever left her, and she began to serve them. (Mk 1-30-31a)

            In the name of the Father, Son and the Holy Spirit.

            Have you ever had one of those days when you rush from one place to other, one meeting after another, only to arrive home at night too tired to do much more than to crawl into bed and go to sleep? I have to believe that this is what Jesus must have felt like on that eventful Sabbath in Capernaum described in this and last week’s Gospel readings. He began the day teaching in the synagogue, which according to the reaction of the crowd was a bit hit. They were astounded at his teaching, for he taught them as one having authority, and not as the scribes. (Mark 1:22). He is interrupted by a man with “unclean spirits” and Jesus exorcises the man’s demons. As is customary in the Gospel According to Mark, Jesus immediately walks to the home of Peter and Andrew, possibly because he had heard from Peter that his mother-in-law was confined to bed with a fever. We don’t know how ill Peter’s mother-in-law was that day; however, during the first century there was no such thing as a low-grade fever. Flu and infection could and did kill especially the young and the old. And, Peter’s mother-in-law who was likely pushing the geriatric age of forty was at risk. There were no hospitals, no “docs in a box”, and physicians were few and far between; the sick had only their families to care for them when ill. Jesus, unconcerned for his own health, approached her bed, grasped her hand and the fever left her.

            For those standing near the bed, this spontaneous healing must have been seen as miraculous. The word spread of the miracle and by sundown the whole city including all who were sick or possessed with demons were crowded around the door waiting to be healed.

            Those waiting for Jesus’ healing miracles that night are very much like us today.  We so want the miraculous in our lives, God bursting forth into His creation, that we are quick to label life events without rational explanation as miracles.

            Earlier this month there were two news events that journalists were ready to call miracles. The first involved the birth of a tiny baby girl in England named “Aya”, which is Arabic for miracle. The miracle was that she was born two days after her mother was declared brain dead. The second newsworthy event occurred when US Airways Flight 1549 averted tragedy when the pilot safely landed the plane on the Hudson River. NBC even titled their news coverage of this event as “Miracle on the Hudson.”

            When someone we love is seriously ill, we hope for a miracle. We pray for God’s healing power. This divine action is what the parents of a former co-worker of mine wanted so dearly when their son was diagnosed with a brain tumor. Whenever we met, they would tell me that their son would receive the same miracle that He bestowed upon me.

            On October 8, 1991, I was exiting the front doors of the local community mental health center to get lunch when I heard a noise that sounded like a gun. Since I knew that nail guns were being using in an adjacent building under construction, I didn’t think anything unusual about the noise. However, before I took another step, I was knocked off my feet.  Although I never saw him, one of our seriously mentally ill patients standing approximately twenty five feet away holding a shotgun had fired in my direction. Attempting to rise, I was shot again. A repeated attempt to rise produced the same results. Because of the ricocheting buckshot, my body was peppered head to toe with enough buckshot to fill five shotgun shells.

            Although the pain was excruciating, the emergency response team arriving on the scene could not give me anything because the extent of the injury was unknown. I was then transported by ambulance to MCG’s Trauma Center. I was sedated for surgery and awoke six weeks later.

            I later learned that most of the trauma was to my liver, which would not stop bleeding. I received 36 units of blood—some of this supply donated by members of this church, before the flow was stemmed. Others injuries sustained included perforated intestines, a collapsed lung and broken bones in both legs.

            After a couple of weeks into my two and half month hospital stay, Marsha thanked the trauma surgeon for his life-saving efforts. He replied that I truly was in God’s hands because the surgeon had not expected me to live. Visitor after visitor affirmed the physician’s statement by telling me that I was a miracle. That and that my color was good.

            Six months after the incident, which included four months of rehabilitation, I returned to work. However, I was troubled by the number of time that I heard from the various visitors that I was a miracle.  If I was truly a miracle, how should I respond? I thought there should be a quid pro quo – this for that—response. Should I seek ordination to the priesthood? How should I best repay God for the miracle of life? What response on my part is sufficient to balance the scales?

            One night as I left the church I was mulling over the question in my head Suddenly, I heard a voice as audible as if someone was sitting with me in the car. The voice was so distinct that it caused me to turn my head and look at the back seat to see if anyone was there, but no one was. The voice replied to my inner questioning, “It isn’t the big things that are important, it is the small things that you do each and every day in my Name that matters.” I had my answer and had my peace.

            Yes, Elizabeth, miracles do happen. These acts of God or sources of wonder are all around us. Creation is a miracle, grace is a miracle and the kingdom of God is a miracle.

            What should our response be when we experience a miracle? Our response need not be grand; our response can be as simple as Peter’s mother-in-law who, upon receiving the healing power of the Holy Spirit, rises from her bed to serve those present.

            I believe the Rt. Rev. Philip S. Wright, the Bishop of Belize, summed up our response during last week’s address of the 187^th Georgia Diocesan Convention, when he said,  God does not have a mission for His Church; God has a Church for His mission.” Paul implies a similar sentiment when he tells us today to be “a slave to all” in our service to humanity.

             Whenever we open ourselves to the Holy Spirit to  serve the Lord and his mission—to feed the hungry, give drink to the thirsty, clothe the naked, or whatever builds up the kingdom of God, not in the kingdom to come but the kingdom here today, we perform the miraculous. We become God’s hands. We become the miracles.

Amen