Where Is the Good News?
In Mark’s gospel we read the following, “While he was still speaking, some people came from the leader’s house to say, ‘Your daughter is dead. Why trouble the teacher any further?’ But overhearing what they said, Jesus said to the leader of the synagogue, ‘Do not fear, only believe.’” (Mark 5:35-36)
This text appeared as part of a longer text in our Sunday readings for the 13th Sunday of Ordinary Time. What struck me as I prayed with this text is the idea that as we listen to Jesus, whether formally in prayer or informally during the course of our daily life, we are often interrupted by the words of others. Their ideas sometimes encourage us in our discipleship and sometimes they do not. In this text from Mark, a synagogue official by the name of Jairus has asked Jesus to help his young daughter who is ill. The ‘people from the leader’s house’ come and encourage him to let go of the tenuous hope he has in Jesus; they believe Jesus can do nothing to help because the opportune moment has passed. The child has died and asking Jesus for assistance will no longer matter because no one can intervene. Death has visited the home and the outcome is settled; there is nothing to be done.
As a hearer of this story, we would be inclined to agree. Reason suggests that death has spoken and there is nothing more to be said or done. Mark, however, is intent on convincing us that resurrection is possible; resurrection defies death. The resurrection of Jesus changes everything. Jesus changes everything.
Jesus does not address ‘the people from the leader’s house’ in this story. He does address the synagogue leader and he reminds him ‘not to be afraid’. Jesus invites him ‘to believe’. Our inquisitive minds, hearing this, can only question, “Who is he? Who does he think he is and what does he plan to do?”
As we continue to read the story, Jesus miraculously intervenes and he changes everything. Where there is death Jesus gives life; where there is despair, he offers hope; where there is discord and chaos, he creates unity and peace. Jesus invites everyone to see that life abounds in the midst of tragedy. As the story concludes Jesus invites the parents to feed the child reminding us once again that the smallest of things matter. Would that Jesus would intervene always and that similar results would be forthcoming in the midst of our suffering.
Recently, our family buried two young men: one was fifty-four and one was fifty-two. One died suddenly from a massive heart attack and the other died after a long battle with brain cancer. Both men, married to my nieces, left behind spouses, children and countless unfulfilled hopes and dreams. As we gathered to celebrate their lives, we were confronted with the reality of death. Family and friends gathered with words and gestures of support in an effort to ease the pain and the suffering. In them the advice of Jesus came forth, ‘Do not be afraid! Believe!’
What is amazing in this experience is that these words of consolation came not so much from members of the faith community but rather they came from people who are more and more disconnected from the Institutional Church. It amazed and delighted me to see that God is at work in the larger community, in people who no longer find welcome or support within our parish communities. On the Sixteenth Sunday of Ordinary Time we read how God promises to gather the people and instruct them, bypassing the religious leaders of the time. (Jeremiah 23:1-6) Are we in that time once again? How is it that so many of our people no longer find meaning and purpose within the Institutional Church? How is it, that they feel neglected, unwelcomed and uncared for? Are we, as Oblates part of the problem or part of the solution?
I can pose the question but I cannot answer the question for anyone else. What I can do is pause and pay attention to Jesus, who, intent on finding rest for the disciples and for himself, sees the crowds in need and forgoes rest. He decides to teach the crowds, ‘who are like sheep without a shepherd’; he teaches them ‘many things.’ (Mark 6:34) What is striking is that Mark does not tell us what Jesus says to the crowds. He does tell us what Jesus does: he reaches out in compassion. There are two parts to the definition of the word compassion. The first part is about feelings of sympathy and sorrow for the one who is suffering. The second part is the desire to act, to alleviate the suffering and pain of the person.
In my work, I encounter good hearted Catholics who are spending time in adoration, at liturgical rituals, taking care of buildings and properties but without a heart for the suffering of their sisters and brothers. Perhaps, we as Church leaders have formed disciples who are no longer missionary – that is, no longer intent on reaching out. Perhaps, we as Church leaders have lost the capacity for contemplation. Perhaps, they do not know what it is to be seen by Christ. Perhaps, our words and actions have not taught them to see with the eyes of Christ.
Karl Rahner once suggested that Christians of the future will be contemplatives and mystics or we will not exist at all. As our Sunday crowds diminish, it is obvious that our words and actions offer little hope to those who are afraid and to those who struggle to believe. Perhaps it is time for us and for Church leaders everywhere, to reimagine our method and our message.
When I was at Aix, Stuart Bates, OMI, in one of his presentations, asked us to consider, “Where is the Good News being announced? How do we proclaim it today, that people might hear and once again believe?” He reminded us that if we do not proclaim the Good News in all its wonder, God will find others who will!
By Doug Jeffrey, OMI
