We like to suppose we control of our lives, but if you’ve ever found yourself outdoors in a storm, you realize just how small and helpless we really are—completely at the mercy of a storm so much bigger and more powerful than anything we can handle. This story is also about a storm, but it’s a storm raging inside of a person.

This man in Mark 5 lived among the tombs, possessed by demons. We don’t know how and why he became possessed, but it was clear he was not himself, not in control. Jesus walked toward the man and casts out the demons.

The bad news is that we too suffer from the storms within—storms that are much bigger than we can handle on our own. The good news, is that Jesus moved towards this man and set him free. He also moves toward us. We will pass through storms, but God promises to be with us even in the storm. And because God is with us, we will not drown, not be consumed, and not be overwhelmed.

Sometimes the stories we tell ourselves can get in the way of what is actually possible. We sometimes assume our problems are not big enough compared to what else is happening in the world.  Or, we may believe we're not worthy or deserving of God's love and care.  Maybe you think if you're honest about what you've been struggling with others will judge you or think you're weak.

These kinds of stories keep us at arm's length from the help and care we need.  They can become barriers that keep us from experiencing a good and loving God and the care and compassion of those who love and care for us.  

The stories we see in Mark 5 paint illustrate that Jairus and the woman who touched the hem of Jesus’ garment did not let their circumstances keep them from God. They chose to believe the stories they had heard about Jesus—that he could bring them good news.

What is a parable? Parables are stories thrown alongside real life to illustrate or explain something. It’s a story with a lesson, a creative way to make a point, a mirror to help us see ourselves more clearly. 

At the end of chapter 4 Jesus says the Kingdom of God is like a farmer who scatters seed on the ground. Night and day, while he’s asleep or awake, the seed sprouts and grows, but he does not understand how it happens. The earth produces the crops on its own. The seeds work within the earth automatically, without assistance from the farmer.

It’s a good reminder that God’s kingdom is going to grow, not because of anything that I do, but because of the power inherent in the kingdom itself.  It’s tempting to look around at the world we live in and think nothing good can grow given these circumstances. Yet woven into the fabric of the universe is the promise that God’s good news will grow in us, around us, before us, and beside us.

According to Jesus’ family, he was, “out of his mind”, beside himself, not seeing things clearly. The religious leaders also thought he was “out of his mind” and were threatened by ruling breaking and challenges to their authority.

The two groups of people who should have been the most on board with Jesus, the religious leaders and his own family, wanted to stop him. Whether out of fear or pride, they tried to stop Jesus.

But Jesus was redefining the family; establishing a new kingdom. He was drawing a wider circle. One not restricted by biology or blood, but one birthed by belief. If we’re with Jesus, then we here with sister, brothers, mothers, fathers, aunts and uncles and cousins. A new family. In sickness and in health, and not even death can tear us apart.

In his gospel, Mark is purposefully stringing seemingly random and unrelated stories together and in doing so, invites us into the interpretive process.  He wants us to not examine these stories in isolation but in relationship to one another to see for ourselves the bigger picture he is painting.  This bigger picture of course is a picture of Jesus, who he was, what he did, how he did it, and why he did it. 

The picture is radically good one. Jesus’ good news is too good and his religious and political opponents can’t take it anymore.  Jesus relieves the oppressed of their oppression but invites their oppressors to dine with him.  Jesus brings restoration and healing to those exploited by political, religious, and economic systems, and he also appeals to those in charge of those systems.

Jesus’ arrival is good news.  For us and for our enemies.  For the oppressed and the oppressor.  For the ones who think they’re righteous and for the ones who know they are not.  Jesus came to love us all.

In Mark chapter 1, Jesus is a disruptor. He’s not merely tweaking the system, he’s re-writing it, stirring the pot, unsettling the status quo. It’s clear here that Jesus has authority to restore not just one aspect of our brokenness but every aspect. We see him healing bodies. Restoring spirits. Bringing people back into community. Upending systems of exclusion. Terrifying those who benefit from the status quo. 

In each of these situations, he confidently goes against the current, trusting that there are some who will eventually fall in love with God’s way and follow Christ.

We can all get stuck. Stuck in patterns of thinking that make it hard for us to change direction, we’re left feeling helpless and hopeless. We can look at what’s broken and think, “It’s all too broken. It can’t be fixed or put back together again.”

The good news of the gospel speaks to us in these moments. It’s good news because it’s so drastically different from what we’d come up with on our own.

In the first chapter of Mark’s gospel, Mark declares, that Jesus is the gospel, or in every day English, the good news.

The word “gospel” is that the Romans, the ones who ruled Judea in the time of Jesus, had already been using that same word for years. 

In the Roman world, when they pronounced a gospel, messengers were sent throughout the empire to share the “good news” that a new Roman Emperor had come to power. Mark puts his own slant on the term “gospel”. To Mark, the good news is a person. Jesus is the gospel.

This is how Mark starts the story of Jesus. With good news about a man from Nazareth, the Son of God. A man who identifies himself with the poor and common folk, who meets us in our suffering, and who goes into the wilderness on our behalf to win our freedom. And that is good news.

Though the Israelites had been delivered from Egypt, Pharaoh’s economy of never-ending work, greed, and oppression had formed and patterned their relationship to work.

We live in economy like that of Pharaoh’s—an economy governed by the almighty dollar and not by generosity, justice, and mercy.

In Isaiah 65, we see God’s hopes for our work. Work is meant for our good and for the common good.  As we fashion things, God fashions us into people who can embody the love of God in whatever we do.  Whether big or small. 

God cares about our work, because God cares about us and the world we’re forming and shaping.  God longs for justice, mercy, and love to rule in our hearts, and by extension, in our dealings with others.

Misión de Caridad was formed to break the cycle of poverty for displaced women and children on the Mexico side of the United States border by educating and empowering families to build healthy lives of purpose within self-reliant communities. 

When families come to the border, they often settle on land in an area near Misión de Caridad’s facility. The streets are dirt. Families construct houses out of whatever materials they can find. Few have running water in the home and some are even without electricity. But all are experiencing the effects of multi-faceted, multi-generational poverty.

The programs at Misión de Caridad are designed to empower and help families see their inherent dignity. When a student is accepted at our school, the entire family is enrolled in programs that afford them the opportunity to participate in a number of empowerment initiatives.

Revelation 7 gives us a glimpse of what worship could look like when we get to heaven. Here, the church isn’t plagued by debates over different worship styles and practice or what’s the “right way” to worship. The image presented is one of both diversity and unity.

It’s not just people from a few nations, or just those who speak Greek and Hebrew, it’s representatives from every nation, every tribe, every people group, and every language, which also signals to the early church that their efforts to spread the Gospel are not in vain.

When we hear the word “worship”, we often think of music or singing, but worship is so much more than that. Yes, we worship when we sing praises to God, but we also worship in all the ways we live our lives for the glory of God. Worship that is good and true and beautiful reflects the heart and character of God and draws us in to form us and shape us and send us back out as we more closely resemble the character of Christ. Worship is both a personal and a communal response to who God is and what God has done for us.