Mark 1:29-39
And she served them. My feminist heart is crushed but that’s what it says. She served them. Her fever disappears with but one touch. She gets up and serves these men that have gathered in her house. Some even call her “Jesus’ first servant.” Well, if you’re inner feminist doesn’t choke and die on that, let me get mad for you.
Let me be mad for every woman that has been only valued for how well she cooks and cleans. Let me be mad for every child that was told he throws like a girl. Let me be mad for every little girl that is told she is pretty but never told how smart she is. Let me be mad any time we can’t imagine how to go the other direction. Really. Let me be mad for you. Because this is not OK.
Simon’s mother-in-law may have exiled to her bed for quite some time — and that may have required Simon to step up and do some housework while she healed. That may be. But, that doesn’t mean that a woman is meant to serve. In fact, this isn’t just about women. This is about all of us. This is about what it means to serve. No matter who you are or where you are on life’s journey, this is about how you might serve God and each other.
This became apparent to one of our confirmands last week. As one of our confirmands prayed through worship last Sunday, she struggled with this. In her yellow worship reflection, that I’m sure you’ll see several teenagers scribbling on this morning, this young woman pointed out the number of times our worship bulletin asked us to serve. As she tried to engage these prayers, with her own heart, she couldn’t understand why anyone would do something just because God says so. She thought we sounded like slaves — and I don’t think she’s totally wrong.
I don’t think she’s wrong because I too want to take the pots away from Simon’s mother-in-law. I’m sure I’m not the only one that wants to take the broom out of her hands. I don’t think she’s wrong because I’ve heard members of our church turn to another and say, “Don’t you worry about this. I can handle it. You sit down and rest some more.” None of us want this woman to exhaust herself. After all, she’s just gotten over a fever but we are wrong to make her a woman as fiercely independent as the women of our church. Simon’s mother-in-law has never voted. She has never signed her own name to a lease. She doesn’t have the choices that women have now, but that doesn’t mean she’s powerless. Read this text closely. Nobody is telling this woman what to do. I have no idea how she springs out of bed after a fever but this was her choice. This is how she responded to this stranger touching her hand. She could have simply said “Thank you.” She could have asked all of these men to leave her house so she could be alone with prayers. She could have just smiled. But she didn’t. She served them.
It’s the response that we have when we have experienced the presence of God. It’s hard to explain but when something has touched you that deeply, that profoundly, that honestly, you want to do something. You need to respond. You want to share that experience with someone else. You want them to feel what you felt.
Now, that’s not going to make me cook and clean for a bunch of men, but I won’t discount that that might be the most authentic thing for someone else. Like this confirmand, I don’t want to do anything just because someone told me but there’s no one giving orders here. There’s no one saying what the right response is — and I think that’s probably because there is no one response. When you are touched that deeply and profoundly, your response will come from who you are and where you are on life’s journey. For me, that’s not going to be a tea party but for others it might be.
It’s exactly what Kim Reed’s mother did. Kim never thought of returning home to Montana, but that’s what happened when Kim’s father died. Kim went home but this homecoming wasn’t just about saying goodbye to dad. There was something else that Kim’s hometown didn’t know. They knew him as the star quarterback. They knew him as a jock. They didn’t know that this boy they knew had grown up to become a woman, but never fear. Kim’s mother had a plan. They would have a tea party. Her mother strategized the guest list so that Judy would tell the arts community and June would tell the folks at dad’s office and this other woman would tell everyone at church. And so, the very next night, she gathered these 18 friends and the minister for tea. Once the tea was poured, Kim’s mom explained,
“You all know I’ve lost my husband and I know a lot of you have wondered what happened to my middle son who seemed to disappear. And I want you all to know that I have a daughter and her name is Kim. And this is my child and I love my child and I hope you do too because you all are my ambassadors. I need you to tell this story for me.”
Then these 18 women, a mother who loves her daughter, a transgendered woman and a minister raised their tea cups and said, “Hip hip hooray for Kim!” The next day, at Kim’s father’s funeral, these women were ambassadors. They told the story to anyone that asked.
Nobody was forced. Nobody was made to feel guilty, but after cheering for a transgendered daughter over cups of tea, I’m not sure these women would have known any other way to respond. They went in the other direction. It’s what these boys in the gospel don’t understand. They get angry with Jesus. They track him down. They demand Jesus to do everything that they don’t think they can — to ease every fever and throw out every demon. But, Jesus goes in the other direction.
He doesn’t refuse. He doesn’t deny that he can. But, that’s not what he came to do. He didn’t come to touch and heal. He came to preach that we can “change our hearts and minds” because together we are building the Kingdom of God. This is the other direction because there are a lot of things in this world that we can’t change. There are plenty of things that are broken and can’t be fixed. There are demons that we can name and there are those that possess us so tightly that we can’t begin to describe them. We only know it doesn’t feel right and that there must be something else. Something more.
It’s human to want to list all of those problems. It’s human to want to fix it. It’s exactly what the boys in this gospel remind us about ourselves. It’s not wrong but Jesus goes in the other direction. He goes toward that something else. He goes into that something more. He doesn’t go back because he knows that they can take care of each other. He might not have known it before that moment when the fever disappeared from Simon’s mother-in-law. He might not have believed it until she got up and served him. He might not have understood it until he shared it with God in prayer. But, when the disciples come to get him, Jesus knows that he doesn’t need to go back.
The disciples won’t understand this for a long time. They will continue to be baffled every time Jesus goes in the other direction, but not Simon’s mother-in-law. After the men left her town, I imagine she gathered the ladies for a tea party. She made them ambassadors. She invited them to tell the story because this is the other direction that we go for each other. This is the other direction that we go with each other. This is the other direction that we go to find God.