“Drop-dead Amazing”

Homily for the Fourth Sunday after the Epiphany       28 January 2018
The Rev’d John R. Clarke, Rector

"They were all amazed.”  Mark 1:27a

Tuesday. Benton, Kentucky. Population roughly 4,000. A 15-year-old sophomore walks into his high school, pulls out a handgun, opens fire. 16 fellow students drop. 2 dead. 14 wounded. The Administration's commentary a gobsmacking 24 hours later? A tweet: “My thoughts and prayers are with the victims and their families.”

“Thoughts and prayers.” The official response to a staggering number of mass shootings over the past year. The official response to skyrocketing death tolls and soaring numbers of wounded, including:

November 5. First Baptist, Sutherland Springs, Texas. 26 dead, 20 wounded. Response? “Thoughts and prayers.”

October 1. Las Vegas. 58 dead, 851 wounded. Response? “Thoughts and prayers.”

“Thoughts and prayers.” Up to our necks in bloodshed and bullet-riddled bodies, do “thoughts and prayers” cut it?

We could ask Jesus, but he’s just one data point. Let’s go for a larger sampling: folks — in some respects like those church-goers in Sutherland, Texas — assembled for Sabbath worship at a neighborhood synagogue in Capernaum, the Galilee town Jesus settles into after the grand opening of his public ministry.

Picture this. With freshly-minted disciples in tow, Jesus makes a guest appearance at the synagogue. As is customary, a discussion of the day’s scripture is on the agenda and the local experts chime in with their two-cents … until Jesus hijacks the commentary.

Mark the Evangelist observes that it’s a jaw-dropping performance. “Astounding” is the way he puts it, “authoritative” even. In Mark’s opinion, light years ahead of the same-old/same-old parsing indulged in by the certified experts on tap each Sabbath, the scribes.

And before anyone — least of all, Jesus — can savor the moment, all hell breaks loose. A local described as being demon-possessed — we would say he has mental health issues — causes a wild-eyed ruckus. “Out to destroy us?” he shouts at Jesus. “I know who you are!” The high drama of full-blown paranoia.

Jesus’ response? “My thoughts and prayers are with you."

Ummm. How far do you think Jesus would have made it that day — or any other — with “thoughts and prayers”?  Proof? Fast-forward:

Blind man Bartimaeus: “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!”

Jesus: “My thoughts and prayers are with you.”

A leper: “Jesus, if you choose, make me clean!” … “Thoughts and prayers.”

The non-Jewish woman who harasses Jesus: “Have mercy! My daughter is tormented by a demon!” … “Thoughts. Prayers.”

And perhaps the most eye-popping case of all: In the shadow of the death of her brother Lazarus, Martha of Bethany shames Jesus: “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died.”

“You and your family are in my thoughts and prayers.”

But, of course, while Jesus is often thoughtful and perennially prayerful, the amazement he triggered that day in the synagogue is stapled to the fact that he didn’t stop with thoughts and prayers. He did something. He healed the man. Gave him what he needed: sanity.

And that gives the people that morning ― and the hordes Jesus encounters in synagogues and streets and byways all over the region from then on ― their scarcest commodities: hope, vision, and a model for action … because ― compared to the scribes, let’s say ― Jesus does what most only talk about.

Meaning: The people. What do they need? Well, look at their situation. As an occupied population, they suffer one indignity piled upon another. Disease is rampant. Unemployment rife. “Opportunity”? For them, not a word in the economy’s vocabulary.

That makes them chronic victims who have a right to complain, “We don’t need thoughts and prayers. We’ve had it up to here with good (or at least, professed) intentions. We need relief, we need healing, we need jobs, we need food, we need dignity. We need action.”

And, by restoring the disruptive man to his right mind, Jesus shows he concurs. “Thoughts? Terrific. Prayers? Can’t knock ‘em. But they pale next to taking one step after another and another to achieve God’s justice: abundance, ranging from food to jobs, to healthcare and security. All satisfied. No one left out.

And that’s why the people are so electrified — so astonished and amazed — that morning. They can sense ― they can see ― Jesus is one with his message.

And that’s the challenge for each of us after Benton, Sutherland Springs, the Las Vegas massacre …  and the 15,583 gun violence deaths — suicides not included — in the past 12 months … with no end in sight … and scant reason to hope … as we witness one mass shooting after another: one neighbor, one high schooler, one child after another … senselessly ripped apart … while the NRA and their cronies in Congress pump up the body count — a body count that will not be wished away by thoughts and prayers.

That’s the rallying cry of progressives who can taste God’s justice. Progressives like Senator Chris Murphy, of Connecticut. In the wake of the Las Vegas shooting, he took to the internet. “To my colleagues in the Senate and in the House: Your cowardice to act [on gun control] cannot be whitewashed by thoughts and prayers.

“Your ‘thoughts’ should be about steps to take to stop this carnage. Your ‘prayers’ should be for forgiveness if you do nothing … again.

“None of this ends,” the senator concludes, “unless we do something to stop it.”

And none of this ends unless we do something to stop it … unless we stand up, speak up, show up at the polls to vote out the saboteurs of gun control.

Otherwise, thoughts and prayers? That’s all there is? Echoes of Peggy Lee: “Is that all there is, is that all there is? If that’s all there is, my friends, then let’s keep dancing.”

Yes, then let’s keep dancing … dancing around the issue, while — one by one — more innocent victims in the crosshairs … drop.

Amen.