Come away to the other side — Pentecost VIII
Today, we learn about rest. Good topic for a heat wave, for new parents, and the rest of us. Our cultures seem to value "I'm so busy'" as a sign of virtuousness.
Rest and retreat are apparently as necessary in entering into the mystery of what it means to be a creature as anything else. Our tradition tells us that we approach God in silence, and that this is a first, best way to enter the mystery.
It is also a way to be part of what the tradition tells us is the 'missio Dei' -- the mission, or work, of God-in-Christ: the restoration of all things to wholeness, to fullness-of-being, to abundant life. So: in learning silence, in learning rest (a nap, a pause, a re-orientation), in applying ourselves to this lesson... we actually participate in God's work just as much as when we seek out divine presence in the least of these, the vulnerable creatures of God with whom we share our habitat.
The Gospel today continues in Mark's telling, piecing together two separate moments when the disciples and Jesus retreat away from the crowds - although the crowds find them anyway! - so they may contemplate the work they have been given to do, and what their role in its evolution is.
They have been healing people, and telling them that God's reality (kingdom) is at hand, always present, and able to be turned to and entered into. This proclamation and invitation is, itself, restorative -- for in turning toward the greater, ultimate reality that holds us all, every day, we can find our place in it, and slowly be restored to a sense of proportion, usefulness, and wholeness.
So, the disciples have been 'working,' but part of their work has been proclaiming the restoration-of-all-things, the making-whole that is what it is to participate in God's inner life.
The framers of our lectionary sew together two episodes of 'heading away from crowds,' skipping over another bit of work in between -- more work! -- when Jesus tells the disciples actually to feed the crowds who are following them around. Part of the healing, restoring work of those who try to follow Jesus in this cosmic reality is to proclaim the fact of this reality - in word and deed - and part of the work is to attend to the physical needs of those who are hungry. 'Feed them' is not only a metaphor - though it certainly continues the metaphor - but a reminder that to a hungry person, a loaf of bread is the saving word of God. Justice is what the kingdom of Love looks like in public, with feet and hands and arms.
Communion-with-the-divine is our call. I don't know that I'd say it is our 'first' call. Too much energy has been wasted over the centuries on a false opposition between 'Is it good to feed people first?' or 'Is it good to sit in silence and contemplate God's inner Being first?' The answer - as ever - might simply be 'yes.' But, if one has been doing the one all the time, without a break, then it's time to get in the boat and go to the other side of the lake and sit in silence for a bit.
Works of justice-seeking-and-proclaiming and works-of-contemplation participate in the restoration-of-all-things. Where are you, these days? Be open to the possibility of a call to one or the other, always.
The tradition observes the Feast of St Mary Magdalene this coming week, on Thursday. An ancient feast day, commemorating a woman whom the tradition has slowly - this century - learned to reclaim from the caricatures of misogyny (virgin/whore complexes and the like). For a whole strain of Christianity, though, she is referred to as 'The Apostle to the Apostles,' and is an icon of a tradition of seeking divine wisdom and communion/union with Christ. Do a deeper dive, if you like. I like thinking of Mary Magdalene sailing across the Sea of Galilee, herself, joining Jesus and the rest, on her own pilgrimage following Jesus into the heart of God.