A Sermon Delivered by The Rev. John D. Painter at Centenary United Methodist Church Metuchen, New Jersey

Text: Mark 1:21–28 Now after John was arrested, Jesus came to Galilee, proclaiming the good news of God, and saying, “The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God has come near; repent, and believe in the good news.”

As Jesus passed along the Sea of Galilee, he saw Simon and his brother Andrew casting a net into the sea–for they were fishermen. And Jesus said to them, “Follow me and I will make you fish for people.” And immediately they left their nets and followed him. As he went a little farther, he saw James son of Zebedee and his brother John, who were in their boat mending the nets. Immediately he called them; and they left their father Zebedee in the boat with the hired men, and followed him.

They went to Capernaum; and when the sabbath came, he entered the synagogue and taught. They were astounded at his teaching, for he taught them as one having authority, and not as the scribes. Just then there was in their synagogue a man with an unclean spirit, and he cried out, “What have you to do with us, Jesus of Nazareth? Have you come to destroy us? I know who you are, the Holy One of God.” But Jesus rebuked him, saying, “Be silent, and come out of him!” And the unclean spirit, convulsing him and crying with a loud voice, came out of him. They were all amazed, and they kept on asking one another,

“What is this? A new teaching–with authority! He commands even the unclean spirits, and they obey him.” At once his fame began to spread throughout the surrounding region of Galilee. —Mark 1:21-28, NRSV

A few years ago, the Associate Pastor in the congregation I was serving asked our chil-dren to bravely step out into the congregation and select an adult to bring up front with them. The adult they were to select was someone they thought was a good teacher, or looked like she or he would be a good teacher. A number of those attending were surprised to be selected, while some of the children safely picked their parents or older sisters or brothers. But that’s all right. If a large part of parenting, or caring for younger siblings, isn’t teaching, then I’ve missed the boat somewhere along the way. A teacher. What a wondrous word!

John W. Schlatter captured the wonder of being a teacher for me in a reflection from Chicken Soup for the Soul which I encountered recently:
“I am a Teacher.
“I was born the first moment that a question leaped from the mouth of a child.
“I have been many people in many places.
“I am Socrates, exciting the youth of Athens to discover new ideas through the use of questions.
“I am Anne Sullivan, tapping out the secrets of the universe into the outstretched hand of Helen Keller.
“I am Aesop and Hans Christian Andersen, revealing truth through countless stories.
“I am Marva Collins, fighting for every child’s right to an education.
“I am Mary McCleod Bethune, building a great college for my people, using orange crates for desks.
“And I am Bel Kaufman, struggling to go Up the Down Staircase.
“The names of those who have practiced my profession ring like a hall of fame for hu-manity…Booker T. Washington, Buddha, Confucius, Ralph Waldo Emerson, Leo Buscaglia, Moses, and Jesus.
“I am also those whose names and faces have long been forgotten but whose lessons and character will always be remembered in the accomplishments of their students.
“I have wept for joy at the weddings of former students, laughed with glee at the birth of their children, and stood with head bowed in grief and confusion by graves dug too soon for bod-ies far too young.
“Throughout the course of a day, I have been called upon to be an actor, friend, nurse and doctor, coach, finder of lost articles, money lender, taxi driver, psychologist, substitute parent, salesman, politician, and a keeper of the faith.
“Despite the maps, charts, formulas, verbs, stories, and books, I have really had nothing to teach, for my students really have only themselves to learn, and I know it takes the whole world to tell you who you are.
“I am a paradox. I speak loudest when I listen the most. My greatest gifts are in what I am willing to receive appreciatively from my students.
“Material wealth is not one of my goals, but I am a full-time treasure seeker in my quest for new opportunities for my students to use their talents and in my constant search for those tal-ents that sometimes lie buried in self-defeat.
“I am the most fortunate of all who labor.
“A doctor is allowed to usher life into the world in one magic moment. I am allowed to see that life reborn each day with new questions, ideas, and friendships.
“An architect knows that if he builds with care, his structure may stand for centuries. A teacher knows that if he builds with love and truth, what he builds will last forever.
“I am a warrior, daily doing battle against peer pressure, negativity, fear, conformity, prejudice, ignorance, and apathy. But I have great allies: Intelligence, Curiosity, Parental Sup-port, Individuality, Creativity, Faith, Love, and Laughter all rush to my banner with indomitable support.
“And whom do I have to thank for this wonderful life I am so fortunate to experience? You the public, the parents. For you have done me the great honor of entrusting to me your greatest contribution to eternity, your children.
“And so I have a past that is rich in memories. I have a present that is challenging, adven-turous, and fun, because I am allowed to spend my days with the future.
“I am a teacher…and I thank God for it every day.”
This week I got to thinking about some of my teachers. Some names came immediately to mind. There was Miss Hutton way back in fourth grade in Vermont. I was not a particularly good student in those days, but something about Miss Hutton made me want to learn. I came home one day and said to my parents, “I wish all my teachers were Miss Huttons.”
And there was Mabel Noyes, my senior English teacher in New Hampshire. She was tough! I hated her class. We had to read a lot of books and write a lot of papers, and she marked us very critically. Along with content, spelling, punctuation and sentence structure all mattered. To get an “A” from Mabel Noyes was almost impossible. When I graduated in 1961 I was very happy to leave her classroom behind. Then I got to college and took my first English course. It was tough and so was the professor, but unlike many of my fellow students—who hadn’t been endured the rigors of Mabel Noyes—I “aced” that first semester class. God bless Mabel Noyes!
I have been taught by other great teachers along the way: Bob Hunt and Ken Welliver and George Glauner at West Virginia Wesleyan; Carl Michalson and Bernhard Anderson and Nelle Morton at Drew. That is to name only a few of the educators who have touched my life, really.
Someone has suggested that there are teachers, and then there are educators…
“According to a news report, a certain private school in Washington recently was faced with a unique problem. A number of 12-year-old girls were beginning to use lipstick and would put it on in the bathroom.
“That was fine, but after they put on their lipstick they would press their lips to the mir-ror, leaving dozens of little lip prints.
“Every night, the maintenance man would remove them and the next day, the girls would put them back. Finally the principal decided that something had to be done. She called all the girls to the bathroom and met them there with the maintenance man. She explained that all these lip prints were causing a major problem for the custodian who had to clean the mirrors every night.
“To demonstrate how difficult it had been to clean the mirrors, she asked the maintenance man to show the girls how much effort was required. He took out a long-handled squeegee, dipped it in the toilet, and cleaned the mirror with it. Since then, there have been no lip prints on the mirror.” Now, that’s an educator!
And who were your great educators? Who were the teachers that aided your journey through school? Amazing, isn’t it, how much influence they have had on us, and how clearly we remember certain ones. Here I am, almost sixty-two years old, and persons like Miss Hutton and Mabel Noyes and all the others are still influencing my life. They were paid poorly for their teaching, I’m sure. You never heard of most of them. Yet, consider their influence!
Teachers are powerful people. They change lives. They create new worlds through their teaching. They have, within their hands, the power terribly to hurt or wonderfully to heal young lives. Most of us are deeply, forever indebted to some caring teacher in our past. Some people never get over the damage done to them by some cruel or uncaring teacher. Teachers are power-ful people.
So today, when you hear that Jesus entered the synagogue at Capernaum and began to teach, you ought to take note. Jesus was a teacher. They never called him “Reverend” or “Fa-ther,” but most of them called him “Rabbi,” which means “teacher.”
Isn’t it interesting that the first miraculous work that Mark reports, the very first action that Jesus performs in Mark’s Gospel, is the act of teaching? Our first glimpse of Jesus is of a teacher with authority. In this encounter at Capernaum, Mark doesn’t tell us what Jesus taught. Rather, he tells us how Jesus taught—with authority: authority over the spirits that torment peo-ple; authority over life and death, good and evil. Jesus is the powerful teacher whose teaching is not only in his words, but in his powerful deeds.
A few years ago Don Browning of the University of Chicago wrote a book called, The Moral Context of Pastoral Care. It was a book for pastors and counselors on how to help people with problems. Browning argued that recently, when we talk about human problems, we seem to reduce all problems to psychological problems, issues of psychological adjustment, or chemical imbalance in the brain, or experiences in our infancy or childhood. Yet there are many human problems, says Browning, that are more cognitive than psychological. They are problems related to not knowing rather than not feeling well. Some people are in pain because they are confused. Modern life has so perplexed them, things are so chaotic and confused, that they are miserable.
Browning suggested that we pastors had made the mistake of taking as our model the doctor—the physician treating a person who was sick—when we should have taken as our model the rabbi teaching a person who was confused.
Modern life is confusing. There is a lot that seems to be out of kilter, chaotic, frighten-ingly inexplicable, as chaotic and confused as that poor demented man who barged into the Ca-pernaum synagogue screaming that day Jesus was teaching.
Jesus the teacher healed that man. Jesus silenced the raging spirits, taught the wondering congregation with authority.
I think that’s one of the reasons we are here this morning, even if you didn’t know that’s why you are here. We are looking for answers to life’s biggest questions; searching for reasons why; groping for some discernible pattern in the confusion. We’ve been bombarded with infor-mation, facts and figures. We don’t need any more information. We need to see the larger pic-ture, some more reliable pattern. We need a teacher with authority larger than our own.
Things happen to you that you cannot explain. This world confuses us. Sometimes the most confusing thing in our world is us—our thoughts and actions. We need a teacher.
Mark’s brief story of this episode in Capernaum is his way of reassuring all of us: we have a teacher, one who teaches with authority. Come, let us be taught by him and be healed.
+ + + + + + + + + +
PRAYER
Teach us, O Lord, as you taught so long ago in the synagogue—as one with authority, as-tonishing those who gathered. We bring our worries and wounds—heal them. We bring our defi-ance and doubt—silence them. Speak to us, Lord. We are ready to hear. Amen.
+ + + + + + + + + +