The Anger of Compassion

Who were the Lepers in Biblical times?
Who is the Leper in the story described in Mark’s Gospel?
Or, more to the point, what is the disease described as Leprosy in Mark’s Gospel heard moment ago?
The kind of leprosy we know today came to the West after biblical times.
In the days of Jesus, “leprosy” literally meant something like “scaly or rough,” and could refer to any skin disease like psoriasis, acne, or boils. Given the poverty afflicting most persons in Ancient times, “leprosy” could also simply mean the rough skin associated with hardship, age, sun, and skin-infecting labor.
I’ll never forget the first time I saw Caposis’ Sarcoma, the skin cancer associated with the latter stages of AIDS; it was in the mid-1980s during an internship during seminary at Walter Reed Army Medical Center. I was required to wear gloves to visit; the patient looked at me and spoke the words, “if you have to wear those, I really wish you were not hear; I feel like a Leper.” The gentleman’s friend looked at me and said, “this disease makes me enraged. So does your God for doing nothing about it.” We will deal with this anger in a minute.
But let us move back to the Gospel of Mark.
In a pre-scientific time, the fear of contagion would have made people reluctant to have contact with anything which may have caused them to suffer or-and especially this—be excluded from society.
Thus, “rough and scaly” or “leper” is more a metaphor for those cast out from Ancient Near Eastern circles of acceptance and those they avoid contact with.
Such explains several well-known and inexplicable stories of avoidance: The beaten and robbed man in the story of the Good Samaritan; the woman with the flow of blood; the woman who crashed the dinner party in the home of Simon the Pharisee; those originally note invited to the great banquet given by the King; the Samaritan woman at the well, alone.
They were all—well—Lepers. They were all rough and scaly. They were all outcast.
Jesus was moved when the Leper called out to him.
The original meaning of the phrase here “moved with pity” is poignant.
It best be translated “The Anger of Compassion.”
The word, compassion means, “to suffer with.”
Jesus identified with the man in heart; he did not “pity” as feel sorry for him. He “suffered with him” to the point of anger on his behalf.
Anger at what? His condition? His illness?
Or, is the Anger of Jesus directed at his own society and his own religion that was betraying the God of Israel—the God of the Exodus, the God of the Outcast, the God of Welcome and Hospitality.
Was his anger that of the Prophets?
That is one of the titles for Jesus and Christian tradition; Prophet.
Prophets get angry. The great Old Testament scholar Abraham Joshua Heschel once said that God is always “raging” in the words of a genuine prophet.
Jesus got angry; He took a bullwhip to those in the temple who were turning it into the 30 pieces of silver that would eventually betray him.
He got angry with the disciples when they did not get his message.
But he especially got angry with those who used their power to exclude and abuse others—especially in the name of religion. I return to this in a second.
And Jesus demonstrates genuine anger—here After he heals the inflicted man. He sternly told the Leper to “go show himself to the Priests, do what Moses commanded—as a testimony to them.”
“As a testimony to them.” “Yes,” says Jesus to the Leper—“go and do the prescribed thing for purity and cleaning in Ancient Israel…and take your healed body—get in the face of the clergy and leaders of religion— and demand that you be restored.”
The origin of a church I served, an African-American congregation, came from a demand that the white church of which they were a part set aside a specific graveyard for burial. They did this because their own dead were not welcomed in the white church graveyard but thrown into unmarked potters graves.
The Bishop of the Diocese at that time grew angry with that church. He not only demanded that they build the graveyard. He demanded that this church build a mission congregation for the Black Church which eventually became St. Philip’s Church. He did this not out of pity for the black Episcopalian Christians.. He did this for justice and accountability. He did this for the sake of restoration of a people to full inclusion in the Christian Community.
But does not Jesus call Anger a sin?
He does not.
He terms behaviors, resulting from anger and uncontrolled rage directed at our equals, the vulnerable, our families, or member of the Christian community, which diminish and exclude—sin.
Yes, uncontrolled and inappropriately expressed Anger kills body and soul.
He says that to NURSE Anger—the original phrase in Matthew’s Gospel Sermon on the Mount—whoever is angry with a brother or sister—is a sin.
Yes, the puss and poison of unexpressed, repressed anger and rage, the pillage of passive-aggression, the power of resentment and cold shoulder of hate kills body and soul.
But, throughout the New Testament, the incarnate God, Jesus the Christ is akin to the God speaking through the prophets of old, including the Prophet Elisha—who identifies with all beaten down by illness, beaten down by life—and especially beaten down by those who use religion in the service of injustice, abuse of power and exclusion.
In a few minutes, Peter Travers will speak of a prophetic President, on this, the anniversary of his birthday; this President was moved with the Anger of Compassion against the spread of slavery, moved with the Anger of Compassion when he first saw the slave markets of the Mississippi, and moved with the Anger of Compassion by laws seeking to spread the contagion of slavery into the new territories of our nation.
Abraham Lincoln spoke eloquently of a God, in the spirit of Jesus, who desired human freedom, prosperity and equality.
Let us never forget that one of the principal preserving elements of the evil of slavery was religion.
Then again—let us never forget that religion reinforced the second class treatment of women, the degradation of those with AIDS, the child sweatshops of the early 20the century, and the segregation of churches which is still a reality today.
It continues to reinforce some of the darker aspect of our soul today, whether it be bigotry and hostility directed against those with a different religion, race, sexual orientation or definition of what it means to be male, female or even a family.
Tomorrow, we celebrate the Feast Day of Absalom Jones, the first African-American Priest of the Episcopal Church. This afternoon there is a service to commemorate one of the truly great saints of the American church at Trinity Cathedral in Trenton at 3PM; I hope you will join me there.
His Priesthood and the one might say the very beginning of one of the great traditions of historic Christianity, the American Black Church—stems from an act of The Anger of Compassion.
On a fateful Sunday of in November of 1787, while Absalom Jones and Richard Allen knelt in prayer in the gallery of St. George’s Methodist Church in Philadelphia, some of the white congregation decided that blacks should be confined to the Balcony. Pulled to their feet by a church official during opening prayers, an appalled Jones and Allen—walked out of the church.
They not only walked out; they demanded “restoration” into American Christianity; they demanded that the leper treatment must end.
Richard Allen founded the African Methodist Episcopal Church or AME; Absalom Jones founded the black Episcopal church—and one of the great historic churches of American Christianity—St. Thomas’ Church in Philadelphia, PA.
Our Youth Group took a mission trip there my first year at All Saint’s; perhaps one day we will return.
Jesus went to a lonely place after healing the leper in Mark’s Gospel— and suffered much for taking a stand on behalf of the abuse, the excluded, the diminished.
Yes, the Anger of Compassion will not make us popular or safe.
But, as Jesus eventually discovered—-for living such compassion—and living such risk, cost and pain… the depth of Compassion-(and its anger!)—is the ONLY thing that will eventually lead us to—Resurrection—and to Life’s wholeness.
A sermon preached on the 6th Sunday after the Epiphany, February 12, 2012, in All Saint’s Episcopal Church, Princeton, New Jersey, Year B, on Mark 1:40-45, by the Rev. Hugh E. Brown, III, D. Min., Rector
The Real “Messianic Secret”

“And he would not permit the demons to speak, for they knew him.” (Mark 1)
“But those who wait for the Lord will renew their strength.” (Isaiah 40)
There is an old saying about a sea captain who was at the top of his profession. He had earned a reputation as one who could make excellent decisions in times of crisis. People did notice, though, that just before it was time to give his orders to the crew, he would to down to his stateroom, open up his safe, and pull out a slip of paper and read it.
Then, he would stride on deck, and make the right call. Naturally, curiosity was high. It was no surprise, that, when he died, one of the first things the crew did after his funeral service was to gather in his stateroom and watch while the first mate opened the safe and pulled out well-worn slip of paper. He read it aloud.
Port left, Starboard right.
In difficult times, the captain knew to remind himself repeatedly of the basics. The captain’s little slip of paper held information—but was a secret; his secret was the source of his ability to act.
In Mark’s Gospel, Jesus is like a sea captain with a secret. Scholars often refer to this as the Messianic secret.
We find this secret is a curious phrase within the quietly lovely and powerful story of Jesus’s healing Simon Peter’s Mother in Law. “He would not permit the demons to speak—for they knew him.”
The scriptures spoke last week that the power of evil, natural or moral, seems to know Jesus.
Throughout the Gospel of Mark we will find Jesus secretive about his identity.
Examples abound and you will encounter them throughout Mark’s Gospel over the coming year.
Jesus refrains from appropriating any Messianic title for himself. Mark speaks of Jesus teaching his parables in secret and in secret explaining all to his disciples.
Jesus repeatedly issues “stern orders” not to tell his secret-which he is Messiah.
Why?
Humility yes; maybe even reality; did Jesus struggle with his senses of vocation and the reality of his role as Messiah within God’s providence slowly dawned on him. Could it be that the Son of God could be—uncertain and unsure at times?
Yet, the “Messianic Secret” seems to be a strategic goal for Jesus. It did not work actually; those who are healed spread the news; the Gospel of Mark suggests that the disciples let slip the news of the Transfiguration.
William Wrede, a great New Testament scholar suggests that the “Messianic Secret” was a kind of “damage control” and device for “spinning” the truth that Jesus was not recognized as Messiah until after the resurrection.
I think Jesus’s strategy about the Messianic secret and why he said, “Shuuu” to the demons, and “hush” to the disciples again and again is about something else.
Something else more true to the Strategy of Jesus; a reason why, perhaps Jesus was NOT recognized as Messiah until after his death.
In modern 21st century language, Jesus did not a “success” model for Messiah; he did not want to link supernatural “success” to faith and to God; his did not want to “authenticate” his ministry and life by being a wonder-working cure-giving, earth-shaking charismatic figure.
We saw last week that the Gospel of Mark clearly links “Authority” –not with miraculous cures and the bashing of evil—and Exorcist like Hollywood movie moments of supernatural fantasy; no, the “Authority of Jesus is the authority of hope and compassion.
What did Jesus desire his identity to be about—Messiah or not? Service, Love, Healing in a broad sense—and above all, doing the will of God and finding one’s center in God.
When called good in the Gospel of Mark, Jesus pointed to God.
We see this in the story of Jesus healing the loved one of his friend on this morning; What does Mark say is really important? What did Jesus think was important? The “supernatural cure?”
I don’t think so: we read, “Jesus went out in the dark to pray.” We read that once the fever left her, see “served.”
“She served,” The true miracle! “She was restored.” Not just to physical health but to reconciliation with her community because, in the days of Jesus, Illness made you a true leper. Especially for women in the days of Jesus, illness excluded you from community and family.
The true miracle here in this story? Restored relationship—compassion—love.
What does Mark say? “Everyone is searching for you!” Of course! Let’s have more cures! Let’s have more supernatural change. Let’s have more “success!” That is what everyone wanted. Not our Lord.
“No more of this”, says, Jesus. “Let us go to the neighboring towns—let us move on; there are more who need us.” “Above all, let us preach the Gospel and serve our God!” says Jesus.
This Sunday, millions of people will watch the New England Patriots and the New York Giants face off in the Super Bowl.
As it happens, the scripture appointed for worship is one that we cited over and over again when I was a part of the Fellowship of Christian athletes in High School
“Even youths will faint and be weary, and the young will fall exhausted; but those who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength, they shall mount up with wings like eagles; they shall run and not be weary, they shall walk and not faint.”
Coincidence for today? That these words part of the pantheon of scriptures that shape many Christian sports programs are read this morning?
Coincidence that the “poster boy” for the integration of faith and sports, whether you like it or not, Tim Tebow, emblazoned “Isaiah 40:31” during his days as a quarterback for the Florida Gators. He also choose this verse to wear in a game against Kentucky in September 2009 while he was battling a respiratory illness.
The subject of faith and sports is a hot topic today, fueled largely by Tebow’s outspoken evangelical Christian faith and his come from behind wins with the Denver Broncos this season.
Tebow’s practice of publically professing his faith in Jesus at every opportunity has made him a lightning rod for debate over the issue.
So: the question arises? Does God really care about any of this?
Let us actually mark what Tim Tebow says about his witness to Jesus as a professional athlete-and I take him at his word:
“The game does not matter; I mean, I give 100 percent of my heart to win it, but in the end, the thing I most want to do is not win championships or make a lot of money; it is to use this opportunity, granted to very, very few people in their lives—an opportunity to make a difference.”
A few weeks ago, Tebow-took some hits and flack for not appearing with his teammates for interviews or even for consolation after losing to the New England Patriots; he did not appear before the media; he did not go to the locker room.
No, he went to see, as he always does after a game, a child or a young person—ill—sick—kids like Baily Knaub a girl who has endured dozens of surgeries in her young life; kids like Zac Taylor, a nine year old boys who lives in constant pain.
After the loss to the Patriots, Tebow visited with a young man named Zach McCloud undergoing extensive chemotherapy for cancer at age 11.
Does God care about who wins a football game?
Does God care about the role of American sports within his Providential care to make a Difference?
God may be with Tim Tebow on the football field. But God is certainly with the injured, sick and hurting kids who watch him—and who learn that Tim—and God—care about them.
An old Church of the Brethren layman was walking down the street in a little PA town. The Church of the Brethren stem from the “free church” wing of the Reformation and place deeds over creeds as the center of Christian faith.
A young evangelist approached him and handed him and asked him, “Sir, have you been saved?”
The old gentleman took the tract, peered at it for a moment, and then pulled a pencil out of his pocket and began writing on the tract. The younger man stood by impatient and curious. Finally, the old man handed him back his tract.
The response stated: “I’ve written down the names and phone numbers of several of my family and friends. Ask them if I’ve been saved. I could tell you anything.”
The real miracles of faith? Not “success,” not competition, in sports or anything else.
But the “secret” of taking some time to talk to a kid in a life or death struggle with Cancer. And, of course, that’s no secret to faithful, loving, Christian life—at all!
Amen!
A sermon preached by the Rev. Hugh E. Brown, III, D. Min, on the 5th Sunday after the Epiphany, Year B, on Isaiah 40: 21-31, and Mark 1:29-39, in All Saint’s Episcopal Church, Princeton, New Jersey on February 5th, 2012
