A Balm in Gilead

I remember as my mother was coming toward the end of her life, her looking up from her sick bed and admonishing me, “John, don’t get old.”

What’s the alternative, I thought.  I was saddened to see this woman I had known as vibrant and socially engaged, now looking so helpless.  The only response I could muster was to silently hold her hand.  And silently pray that she wouldn’t have to suffer much pain.

It was later that evening, around one o’clock in the morning that my father called to say we had lost her.

I know that when I awake in the morning feeling in my prime – at least as much as in the prime can be at eighty – I know the day is going to be fantastic.  I’m going to conquer the world.  Or at least accomplish what’s in my date book to do the day.  And have a great time doing it.

In our reading from Mark, we have the story of much more than relief from a debilitating fever.   Strap in now, we’re going to do a bit of hard-core Bible study here.

The word Mark uses to raise up Peter’s mother-in-law from her sick bed is, a rather rare word in the New Testament.  Used to convey the Resurrection of our Lord.  The very same word – egeiren – to raise from sleep or raise to life from the dead, referring to the Resurrection.  Mark definitely did not use this word by chance.  He wanted to say something much more profound.

 All this is to say that we’re not talking about a simple palliative here, but something much deeper.  It’s metaphor time!

This little vignette is to stand for the entire purpose of Christ and his followers.  A foretaste of God’s intention to raise up all of creation to living life in its fullest.  We’re talking about the purpose of entire Gospel Mission, the Whole Enchilada of God’s will for creation – thriving.  A new heaven and a new earth — the ultimate Kaiser Permanente motto of thriving as a new reality.  End-time joy is present NOW.  A taste of the realized eschaton, Chardin’s “Omega Point.”  Just a smidgen.

But wait, there’s more.

When Peter’s mother-in-law upon getting out of her sick bed begins to serve them.

This is not some male sexist take on the role of women.  Though, truly, had a woman written this account, I suspect she would have given us the name of this woman, our first deacon.  Sadly, the male writer considered her name of lesser importance.  But I digress.

This restored soul responds to her new life by sharing it.  She serves.  The message is, “Go, thou, and do likewise.”  Yeah, men, you too – grab the dishtowel.  Find your purpose.  Be an “Attitude of Gratitude” in action.

And, friends, that is the whole message of the Gospel.  We find our life by giving it away to others.  In and through Christ, we are given the power, the gumption, and the insight as how to do this.

We have a most important hint here in this brief story.

What does, Jesus do?  He takes her by the hand.  Hint, hint…it’s first of all about touch.

Many of our youth are suffering record bouts of depression.  As we’ve learned from the recent hearings before Congress with social media moguls, the impersonal detachment of social media is killing our children.

Kids may report hundreds of Facebook friends, but not with a single one of them will they share touch.  Half of them are most likely Russian bots or predators.  There is nothing personally affirming here.  No touch.

Despite having all these so-called “friends,” our children are suffering catastrophic loneliness.  The more hours stuck in your phone, the less connected you’re likely to feel.

I find it absolutely abhorrent to look across a restaurant at a family at dinner, with the kids in their smart phones the entire time instead of plugged into their families.  Dumb, not smart.  I’m not talking about the kids but the parents who permit this destruction of their families right before their eyes!

The other day there was a news story of the Sesame Street Muppet, Elmo.  Elmo did a check-in, wondering how everyone was doing out there in internet land.[1]

Elmo’s simple query raised a firestorm of reports of loneliness, depression, guilt.  The collective answer, “We’re not doing well, Elmo.  We’re not okay.”

“What transpired was an existential crisis by way of X users sharing their sense of overwhelming dread and anxiety — from the personal to the global — that got even the little red Muppet in his feelings. He probably did not expect the internet to unload its collective anguish in his replies — but that it did.”[2]

By Wednesday, the post on X had gotten 12,000 replies and 47,000 retweets.  Elmo discovered a world in “high anxiety.”  He hit a nerve.

Many responders were our youth expressing the loss of hope for much of any future.

Just the simple, “Elmo is just checking in! How is everybody doing?” pulled back the covers of a very dark future.

“Every morning, I cannot wait to go back to sleep. Every Monday, I cannot wait for Friday to come. Every single day and every single week for life,” X user ContrarianGuild replied.

“The world is burning around us, Elmo,” wrote YouTuber Steven.

David Leavitt, a journalist wrote, “Elmo I’m suffering from existential dread over here.”

“elmo im depressed and broke,” wrote DatDaDatty.

“Elmo I just got laid off,” added another.

Among the thousands of replies and retweets were such as Dionne Warwick and President Biden, urging folks to check in on friends. 

I can’t tell you how many times, I’ve followed a hunch about a friend and happened to have called at just the right moment when he or she needed a friend.  Needed to hear a comforting voice.  Needed to know that somebody cared.  Gospel Joy, it was.  You, I suspect, have also had that same experience.  Surely, a “Balm in Gilead.”

Is there a balm in Gilead?  Healing ointment for our sin-sick, weary souls?  The Gospel answer today is a definite, “YES.”

Remember the rock opera of the sixties, “Tommy”?[3]  In one poignant line from the work, Tommy pleads for connection,

“See me, feel me
Touch me, heal me
See me, feel me
Touch me, heal me…”

That is what we are all looking for.  Someone to see us, feel us.  Heal us.

 And in that physical connection is healing, deep healing.  And in that touch, we are raised into wholeness, new life.  Resurrection, now.

Our teens are aching for such.  We all are.

As my mother lay, semi-conscious, in silence I held her hand.  Words escaped me.

Yes, she was soon gone.  That very evening.  And yet, very much present.

Yesterday, I went over to Jim and Helen’s to hear the newly restored piano.  Helen sat down to play a piece.  “Alice Blue Bonnet.” This is the song my mother would sing to me as a very young child, cradling me in her arms.  Awakened was the memory of her tenderness and protective care for me.  Helen’s playing definitely touched my heart strings.

Those moments are the gift we leave behind when this earthly life is over.  That joy and love ring down through successive generations.  Spiritual Balm that lives on.  Resurrection.  And all is made new, day by day.

Even those healed eventually leave us.  We all have a short shelf life, some shorter than others.  However, as we are taken by the hand and raised up to Gospel Joy and Purpose in this life, we find sufficient spiritual health to be part of the panoply of God’s Encompassing Grace, deacons of service.  And, in faith, that shall be sufficient.

So, if you’re hesitant, visit that friend at their home, in the hospital or in hospice.  You don’t need to know what to say.  You may not need to say much of anything.  Just hold them.  Take a hand or a shoulder.  In that moment you are the balm of God’s Grace.  And trust that there is healing.  And in that moment, you both shall be raised up as on the Last Day.

Trusting in simple touch and presence, we are transformed, the Balm in Gilead.  Yes, there is a balm to heal all our sin-sick souls.  A smidgen of the foretaste of “Glory Divine.”  That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.  And, thank you, Elmo, for the heads-up.  Amen.

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[1] Nardine Saad, “Elmo’s Innocent Check-in Takes a Dark Turn,” Los Angeles Times, January 31, 2024.

[2] Ibid.

[3] The Who, “See Me,” overture, and last song from the rock opera, “Tommy,” 1969.

February 4, 2024
5 Epiphany

The Rev. Dr. John C. Forney
Isaiah 40:21-31; Psalm 147:1-12, 21c;
1 Corinthians 9:16-23; Mark 1:29-39 “A Balm in Gilead”