By Linda Rex
February 7, 2021, 5th SUNDAY AFTER EPIPHANY—One of the things I have missed most since moving into metro Nashville has been the ability to walk out my door and simply find solitude where I felt safe to be by myself in nature. Although there are many greenways in the city where we can go walking or cycling, it is not the same as having a few acres of woods where one can wander about and simply experience the relative silence of the outdoors.
Even out in the country where I used to live there would not be genuine silence, since one could still hear the cars passing on a highway half a mile away or on the gravel road where we used to live. But it was possible to walk out our door and into the woods, and there encounter face to face a whitetail buck or doe as they were out on a browsing expedition looking for a meal. I could find wildflowers in the spring, blackberries in the summer, and in the rippling brook, a number of creatures simply being who they were created to be, reminding me of what really matters in life.
When I would walk in the hills or woods out in the country, I would find there a sense of the imminent yet transcendent presence of God. Sitting on a hill watching and hearing the wind blow through the blades of tall grass and wildflowers reminded me of the wind of the Spirit as Jesus described it to Nicodemus—we don’t know where it comes from or where it’s going, but we can see the wind’s affect. Looking up at the dark sky at night, the stars filled the expanse overhead. The Milky Way was quite evident and made even more impressive the psalmist’s praise that the God who set the stars in the heavens calls each one by name (Is. 40:26; Ps. 147:4).
Caught in the daily routine of life in the city, we can lose sight of the magnitude and glory of the creation God made and so simply cease to have a sense of our place in the midst of the universe as his beloved. And we can be so preoccupied with our responsibilities, our activities, and even our entertainments that we never stop to reflect or examine the state of our hearts and minds. Are we so busy that we do not have time in our daily life for solitude and silence—a place where we can receive God’s refreshment and renewal, and be reminded of who he is and who we are as his beloved?
In the gospel reading for this Sunday, we find Jesus going to synagogue with the disciples on the Sabbath and then returning to Peter’s home afterward. There they find Peter’s mother-in-law sick with a fever. Even though the rabbis taught that healing was not to be done on the Sabbath, Jesus went to the woman, took her by the hand, and healed her. Her response was what our response should be to the Messiah’s healing touch—a dedication to the service of God and others. She got up and began to tend to their needs.
One might think that Jesus, as God in human flesh, shouldn’t have had any needs. But in reality, he was fully human, so he grew hungry and weary just like every other person. In this story, as evening after the Sabbath approached, the entire city came to the door of Peter’s home, bringing all their sick and demon-possessed. Mark says that Jesus healed many of them and cast out many demons. He was in his element as the Messiah, but not without a cost to his physical, mental, and emotional well-being. Those doing ministry with Jesus in a wide variety of occupations know how we can grow tired and need moments of refreshment after tending to the spiritual, mental, emotional as well as physical needs of others—it is hard work.
This is why we see Jesus seeking solitude and silence the next day—he sought freedom from the everyday business of the city life of Caperneum. He made the effort to get up long before anyone else was up, even the field workers who rose at dawn, in order to have time along with his heavenly Father. He sought time away in order to regroup, to reflect, to be renewed in the presence of his Abba, so that he might be filled anew with the Spirit’s power and presence, and have the strength to face what he knew would be his next challenge—saying no to the temptation to stay and build a following there in Caperneum.
After a while, the disciples, including Peter, sought him out. They were concerned that perhaps Jesus had left without them. Peter, when he found the Messiah, told him that everyone was looking for him. Jesus’ response was that they would leave Caperneum and travel to the various villages in the region, sharing the gospel or good news of the kingdom of God. His time alone with the Father had renewed his strength and his focus on what really mattered—preaching the gospel to many people in the area—and he was ready to go and do it.
We can grow weary in serving others, in doing good, in sharing the good news, and in living out the gospel in the midst of a world that ignores or rejects the things of the Spirit. The prophet Isaiah reminds us that God never grows weary or tired even when we do. When we wait on the Lord, spending time alone with him in solitude and silence, in times of rest and listening, where we aren’t working on something or trying to do something but are simply being present to God, we will find new inner strength and spiritual resources to deal with the difficulties of everyday life (Is. 40: 28–31).
This time of the pandemic and the disruption of our daily rhythms has provided a perfect opportunity to begin to be more intentional about building into our lives times of renewal, refreshment, and reflection. We have the opportunity to begin to practice healthier ways of living and being which include daily times for solitude and silence, or simply for listening to God. We can create space for daily moments of feeding our souls as well as our bodies, by reading inspirational writings or our bibles, and allowing what we read to sink into our beings, renewing and refreshing us.
True spirituality is relationship—an intimate relationship with the God who knows us completely, who calls us by name, and who gives us himself in Jesus Christ and in the gift of the Spirit. It is difficult to build a relationship with someone with whom you do not spend any significant amount of time. Our relationship with God, though, is the source of our inner strength and well-being. We find the capacity to deal with things that are overwhelming, traumatic, or catastrophic by drawing on an infinite Source beyond ourself of strength, courage, faith, and endurance. Intentionally nurturing that relationship only makes sense, and can be the basis for a healthier way of being as we move on into this new decade of 2021.
Dear Abba, Father God, we come to you in gratitude for your love and faithfulness to us. Thank you for the gifts of your Son and your Spirit. Draw us close, renew and refresh us. Remind us again that we are your beloved, accepted and forgiven, through Jesus our Lord. Amen.
“In the early morning, while it was still dark, Jesus got up, left the house, and went away to a secluded place, and was praying there.” Mark 1:35 NASB; see also Mark 1:29–39.