The Lonely Places

A man with leprosy came to [Jesus] and begged him on his knees, “If you are willing, you can make me clean.”
Filled with compassion, Jesus reached out his hand and touched the man. “I am willing,” he said. “Be clean!” Immediately the leprosy left him and he was cured.
Jesus sent him away at once with a strong warning: “See that you don’t tell this to anyone. But go, show yourself to the priest and offer the sacrifices that Moses commanded for your cleansing, as a testimony to them.” Instead he went out and began to talk freely, spreading the news. As a result, Jesus could no longer enter a town openly but stayed outside in lonely places. Yet the people still came to him from everywhere.

The longer I study Mark, the more I am convinced that this book is a tragedy. Seriously! Pick it up some time, pretend you don’t know anything about the Bible, Jesus, or Christianity, and just read it like a play.

Anyway, what I’m getting at here is that it seems like the people around Jesus have an insuperable power to pull tragedy out of the jaws of victory. Take our leper. Read just the first sentence of the passage above, stop, and reflect for a moment on how this scene would look. Wow. I almost came to tears reading this one. How desperate. How broken. How honest. How humbling to know that all that stands between wholeness and continued ostracism is the will of the Nazarene.

And how beautiful to see the eyes of Jesus filled with compassion. So few words, so much said: “I’m willing. Be clean!” I dare not embellish.

Now, you know it can’t end like that! We’ve been set up again! In the midst of the beauty of God’s efficacious compassion, the blessing starts to take a left turn. Had Jesus only thought to consult a law student, he would have been told to get, in writing, agreement as to all elements of the bargain before his performance! You can’t expect to put conditions on a blessing once you’ve given it! [Note the swelling tide of sarcasm] Oh, Jesus! Thank God he can’t keep himself from being moved with compassion for the likes of us humans! Anyway, Jesus’ stern warning and commands for showing appreciation are lost on the newly-clean ears of this guy. He showed up before Jesus, kneeling and begging. He walks away dancing and shouting. I can hardly blame the “leper” for blabbing. I can hardly blame Jesus for his request.

But that isn’t how the story ends. Jesus, again tormented by those seeking release from torment, is driven away from the very people he had just set out to reach (cf. 1:38). Mark says Jesus “stayed outside in lonely places.” And our hearts skip a beat. If only Jesus had a New Testament to read, perhaps he could be comforted by verses exhorting him to not lose heart in doing good. Oh, well. He’ll be lonely but he won’t be alone. Not yet. That comes about 15 chapters from now. I must admit, I've sought Jesus in a few lonely places, myself. Somehow, I always have no trouble finding him, "out there." If only I could strike the balance and find him just as easily in the moments just after he pronounces himself "willing" to grant reprieve from whatever suffering-de-jour I've brought to him this time.

Dear Lord, we are so much better at seeking you in the lonely places. Please pursue us in our brokenness, and refuse to allow us to wander about shamelessly sporting our cleanliness.

The Ups and Downs of Never Alone

Very early in the morning, while it was still dark, Jesus got up, left the house and went off to a solitary place, where he prayed. Simon and his companions went to look for him, and when they found him, they exclaimed, “Everybody is looking for you!”
Jesus replied, “Let us go somewhere else – to nearby villages – so I can preach there also. That is why I have come.” So he traveled through Galilee, preaching in their synagogues and driving out demons.

If you ever take a class on the Book of Mark, hopefully, your teacher will mention the fast-paced, almost staccato, writing style of Mark’s account. Mark’s Jesus is always on the move! Immediately! Something’s happening! The story is driven at a pace which accumulates a momentum, relentlessly driving Jesus on toward the triumphant tragedy of chapter 16. I treasure this passage as a reminder that Jesus was human. Big shocker? Ok, maybe not. But let’s look again. Just before these verses, Jesus had a rather successful day of ministry! Simon’s mother-in-law was quite ill, and Jesus healed her. The town gathered after sunset, and Jesus kept right on healing and tossing demons out. That’s a red-letter day in my book! Jesus must have been exhausted: physically, mentally, and maybe even spiritually. The next morning he slips out of Simon’s crowded house. We can only guess what time last night the crowds finally dispersed. I deeply appreciate Mark’s reminder: Jesus sought time alone (even if it was short lived) and Jesus prayed (let that one sink in). Even in Mark’s breakneck-speed account of the life of the Christ, Jesus carves out a moment to reflect. Sure, soon enough, Simon will form a posse and scold(?) Jesus for slipping off: “JESUS! You scared the crap out of us!!! Everybody’s lookin’ for you!! What are you doing out here?” I sympathize with Simon: not being able to find Jesus would surely suck. But I empathize with the solitude-seeking Jesus: not being able to escape, even for a few moments to meditate, recuperate, to pray in silence instead of on center-stage, would surely suck. I would wager a guess that you feel that way once in a while. You know the feeling I’m talking about? You have some tasks that are overwhelming your time and abilities; everyone you come in contact with wants another piece of you; meaningful solitude is at best a “neat” idea. So neat you have to cheat yourself out of sleep to get it. Yep. That’s real. And I am comforted that Jesus embraced that part of the human experience as he walked the dust of our planet.
And what about his response? “Um, guys, let’s get out of here.” The danger of Jesus’ success would be that it would impede the rest of the mission. There’s always more illness, more febrile mothers-in-law to comfort, more demons to deal with, more villages who haven’t heard. Yep. That’s real. That’s pretty divine, too. What must it have been like to be the creator of the earth, unbound by time, space, and capacity, to become limited by time, space, and the sleep/wake cycle, to undertake the mission of saving a humanity so willing to cast their burdens on Jesus that he in fact became burdened. Occasionally, the hardest part of our mission as the “body” of Christ will be in moving on. It’s hard to leave the past behind, regardless of the success or failure that happened the day before. It may take a few minutes, stolen from the world, stolen from ourselves, alone in solitude, laid bare in honesty before our Creator, before we resume our tour of creation. Thank you, Lord, for those moments, so conspicuous by their scarcity. They are much appreciated.