Jesus heals Simon’s mother-in-law, Mount Athos

As soon as they left the synagogue, they entered the house of Simon and Andrew, with
James and John. Now Simon’s mother-in-law was in bed with a fever, and they told him
about her at once. He came and took her by the hand and lifted her up. Then the fever
left her, and she began to serve them. That evening, at sundown, they brought to him all
who were sick or possessed with demons. And the whole city was gathered around the
door. And he cured many who were sick with various diseases, and cast out many
demons; and he would not permit the demons to speak, because they knew him.
  In the morning, while it was still very dark, he got up and went out to a deserted place,
and there he prayed. And Simon and his companions hunted for him. When they found
him, they said to him, “Everyone is searching for you.” He answered, “Let us go on to the
neighboring towns, so that I may proclaim the message there also; for that is what I
came out to do.” And he went throughout Galilee, proclaiming the message in their
synagogues and casting out demons. -Mark 1:29-39
Peter’s mother-in-law is lifted up. The same verb is used of the resurrection. She is not just
lifted out of bed, she is raised to new life, as we celebrate at Easter And she begins to serve –
serves just as the apostles are sent out to serve –  as we celebrate in Pentecost. She is the
church’s first deacon. She announces the Gospel by her action. Healed, transformed, and
readily at service she slips into her role easily, as if her lifetime had prepared her for it. Which it
had, of course.
She serves, like Jesus himself. For the son of man came not to be served but to serve (Mark
10:45). She receives the Light into her home, she is raised up by the Light, and the Light shines
through her as she ministers to others.
There are people who are offended by this woman’s service. “Hmmph. That’s why she was
healed, to be a servant to the men. Typical.” Take a closer look. When Mark says that “she
began to serve them” he uses a verb that is applied to a deacon. You might say she “ministers”
to them, or “she is a deacon to them.” At the end of Jesus’ temptations in the desert, the
“angels ministered to him.” The same verb is used. Jesus has gone out to Simon’s mother-in-law
in her disease and grasped her by the hand for the victory of justice. In gratitude for his taking
hold of her and giving her life to do his work, she responds wholeheartedly. Now the first four
followers of Jesus become five in number.
It may well be that had this woman not been sick and then healed, she would have served her
son-in-law and his friends anyway. But Mark invites us to see a transformation. The woman has
become a full participant in Jesus’ ministry and mission. Here, early in the gospel, she is shown

as an honoured example of what happens when Jesus encounters us: wholeness renewed leads
to service on behalf of others.
A few verses later we hear that “In the morning, while it was still very dark, [Jesus] got up and
went out to a deserted place, and there he prayed.” After caring for Simon’s mother-in-law and
a whole host of the sick and needy, Jesus seeks silence and solitude. Thomas Merton, one of
the 20 th century’s great spiritual guides writes
Let me seek, then, the gift of silence, and poverty, and solitude, where everything I
touch is turned into prayer: where the sky is my prayer, the birds are my prayer, the
wind in the trees is my prayer, for God is all in all.

In true prayer, although every silent moment remains the same, every moment is a new
discovery of a new silence, a new penetration into that eternity in which all things are
always new. We know, by fresh discovery, the deep reality that is our concrete existence
here and now and in the depths of that reality we receive from the Father light, truth,
wisdom and peace. These are the reflection of God in our souls which are made to His
image and likeness. Thoughts in Solitude
The pattern of encounter, healing, service, and prayer is a constant through the Christian life,
each dimension leading to the next, all intermingling and repeating at deeper and deeper
levels.
The last thing we should do with Jesus is categorize him as a mere wonderworker, a man who
performs extraordinary “acts of power.” He is powerful, all right, but the power is God’s. More
to the point, being human he does not end his days as a power-laden religious hero who goes
from triumph to triumph. St. Marks gospel makes it clear that the cross is the climax of Jesus’
career, the ultimate meaning of his power. Any who are impressed by his wise words and
powerful deeds will fail to understand the meaning of Jesus until they know he is the one who
suffered. He is a man of power, but it is power exercised through passion which at root or base
is compassion. He suffers with us in our suffering and overcomes with us in our weakness.
Mark Twain speaks cynically of the calm confidence of the Christian with four aces. You meet a
lot of that these days – the Christian as invulnerable, beyond all possibility of diminishment,
wound or stripe: omnipotent in the power of the Lord Jesus.
There is no such Christianity as that. That is counterfeit. Our faith is in power through suffering,
power that is shown in part but never at its fullness in this life.
Kevin+