Mtr Mary Trainor
Dear friend,
What do we do when what we fear most is on the loose?
What comes to my mind today is the old saying: “Other than that Mrs. Lincoln, how did you like the play?”
How do I address what is most relevant? What do I say about scripture in the context of pandemic without ignoring its seriousness, nor denying the power of God?
The Gospel today (Mark 5:1-20) provides easy access. It is the colorful case of the Gerasene demoniac, the haunted man imprisoned from within, so physically strong he broke the chains that tried to bind him. He was self-punishing, and was the source of terror among local people.
Jesus, of course, does not fear him, but rather engages him. Jesus converses with the things that possess his being, restoring the man to wholeness, to dignity, to full humanity. People who come upon the formerly demented man sitting and talking with Jesus are frightened. By what? His wellness? Or Jesus’ power?
What do we do when what we fear most is on the loose?
One hundred years ago, tuberculosis was the leading cause of death in the United States. It was the source of great concern, especially once it was found to be a communicable disease (rather than the result of genetics.) Fear abounded. And with good reason.
My mother contracted the disease in her duties as a registered nurse in the late 1930s, just as some experts were suggesting TB’s hold on America was starting to loosen. Even so, my mother was dispatched to a sanitorium, where she was assigned to a bed on an airy sun porch with other young women. For six months. Six long months. No visitors. No family. No fiance. No one.
In the early 1950s, my brother and I would start school. My mother took us aside and strongly urged that if anyone asked about a family history of tuberculosis, we were to deny any such record. I did not understand her passion, even as I complied with her request.
What do we do when what we fear most is on the loose?
The Gerasene demoniac is a good metaphor for things beyond our seeming control, things that limit life, things that strike fear in our hearts.
Jesus approaching the demoniac without fear is about Jesus, not us. It is not a battlecry for us to wantonly embrace danger of any kind, to take undue risks, to disregard the safety of others.
Rather, I believe, the point is that Jesus, Son of God, is filled with a great power, in and of itself frightening to those who do not understand. That power can scare disbelieving townspeople. That same power gives us the courage to walk through our own lives, a Savior at our side.
Whatever happens, we are accompanied, assuring that one of the greatest human fears of all--being alone--can never defeat us.
Mtr. Mary