Peter’s House
Isaiah 40: 21-31, Mark 1:29-39
February 8, 2009
Rochelle A. Stackhouse
It must have been a really large house.
We already know that Peter and his wife and mother-in-law and brother lived there. We don’t know if there were children, or if Andrew was married.
Then Jesus came and “the whole town” showed up at the door. Perhaps Mark is using a little bit of hyperbole here, or maybe Capernaum was a small town, like the one where my Mom grew up, Dorset, Ohio. When she got married, they posted a note on the town hall door inviting everyone to come. And I guess most of them did. Still, would you want the whole town in your house?
Now Peter might have tried to keep them out, but his mother-in-law had just been healed, and she knew both the desire to be healed and the power of Jesus. She knew that the synagogue next door had all sorts of rules about sick people being kept out and called “unclean.” She knew Jesus had not seen her as unclean, and she wanted to let all who were hurting in to be with Jesus, to be with each other.
So they came in, and somehow, like the tents at the Quidditch World Cup in Harry Potter, or like this room which somehow fits everyone who comes to worship here, the house expanded to take them all: those who were sick in body, those whose minds were ill, those who had lost hope and whose spirits were full of doubt and pain. All of them came in to Peter’s house, because, perhaps, the mother-in-law and Jesus were in cahoots and just let them in over Peter’s objections, or maybe Peter was as excited as they were to welcome the town. Many were cured that day, we are told. I expect all found a measure of peace and hope just being in the presence of Jesus.
Though in many ways, we in the church today draw our identity from the synagogue in Capernaum, a place of worship, of song, of ritual, of celebration, we also draw our identity from Peter’s House.
Those seekers who are well and whole come here to hear the word, to give thanks, to sing praise, to listen to Jesus and learn from him. On any given day, I would guess that is a minority of people in this room.
Those who are sick, or sad, or not whole in any way, we also welcome in. We pray for each other, and some will find a measure of healing in prayer and communion with Jesus and one another, but some will not. So we can also be a place that helps link people to others who can help to ease their suffering, to bring them healing: doctors, nurses, researchers, mental health professionals, social workers, educators, community resources. We also can be advocates in the public sphere so that all who need health care of any kind can receive what they need.
Some among us will never find full healing in their lifetimes, and as someone with a chronic condition like that, I know what I’m talking about. But Peter’s House, the Church of the Redeemer, is a place for us, too. Illness of any kind can be very isolating, and although we have learned much about physical and mental illness since the time of Jesus, too often people still feel that the church is not a place for them if they are physically, mentally or spiritually ill. That pains me so whenever I hear it, for the church should absolutely be the place where we come to seek companions, comfort, safety, and hope, in the midst of whatever suffering we experience in life. What can we do here to help all people understand that we no longer see any kind of illness as being “unclean,” but that all of us are broken in some way and together we can find strength to serve God in the world however we are called to do so. Together we can hold each other, even if all we can do is cry together, as Paul the apostle says, “to weep with those who weep.” Together we can work to defeat the loneliness and separation that can be as debilitating as any kind of illness. Together we can say that no illness, disability, tragedy, depression, grief, or pain (mental, physical or spiritual) should mean a loss of community, a loss of value in society. I think we continually need to ask ourselves how we can be Peter’s House in this community. We try in many ways, but there is always someone else peeking in the door, or afraid to even approach it, wondering.
Does everyone here know what this display of art on the wall represents? The very talented people who created this beautiful art create it at Fellowship Place. The mission of Fellowship Place is “to help adults recovering from mental illness to lead more meaningful, fulfilling and healthy lives.” Their programs “address the whole person -mind, body and spirit- to improve individuals’ skills in order to become valued members of the community.” That’s what their mission statement says, and it reveals a truth about our society, that people with mental illness are not seen as valued members of the community unless they can find skills accepted as valuable. We are one of several churches in greater New Haven who display the art of our neighbors at Fellowship Place because we do value them, and not just for their art, but for their humanity. We celebrate the spirits who find expression through this art.
When I visited Fellowship Place, I saw another piece of art that had a vision statement created not by a board of directors, but by one of the artists themselves. This insightful piece showed a starry sky with these words written in it: “We at Fellowship Place are a cosmic community where young and old, all levels of education, all race and religious backgrounds are welcome. Here we can grow and prosper through love and trust of each other.” Sounds like Peter’s House to me, and what I hope we can continue to strive to be here. Like Jesus with Peter’s mother-in-law, let us reach out our hands to those we know and those we don’t who are struggling or suffering and lift them up into a cosmic community of love and trust. Amen.