“Have you not known? Have you not heard?” So begins the prophet Isaiah’s marvelous declaration (Isaiah 40:21, 28).

People were stirring in Capernaum, Simon Peter’s seaside fishing town. Apparently the whole city knew and heard; why else, at day’s end, would all the houses have emptied out leaving fish to be cleaned, floors to be swept, children to be bathed, wheat to be ground, and goats to be milked, so people could huddle at his door?

In the morning, crowds were again on the move, this time near the deserted place where Jesus was in prayerful retreat. Apparently everyone knew and heard; why else, at such an hour, would people in neighboring towns have delayed breakfasts, postponed boat launchings, put off opening markets, set aside filling lamps, put down mending, to go searching for him?

Some years ago, theologian Douglas John Hall wrote a provocative book, Waiting for Gospel. Its cover pictures an individual standing alone in an open field, looking down, waiting. The book presents a critique and reminder for the church: whole cities, neighboring towns, are crowding doors, searching deserted places for good news, for gospel. But is the church sharing the gospel?

Isn’t someone always selling snake-oil solutions for shriveled hearts, beachfront on a desert seashore, joy from a pill? What are we to believe? Who are we to listen to? When pandemic wobbles the globe, seas rise and economies fall, depressions blossom and hopes wither; when people starve in the shadow of mountains of rotting food, artificial intelligence baits kitchen table wisdom, virtual relationships land knockout blows to authentic community, and “mass” is the prefix to “incarceration,” “migration,” and “destruction”—which door are we to crowd? Where are we to search?

Have we not known? Have we not heard? Good news draws a crowd; the gospel is found in Jesus!

 

Who: Jesus, disciples, observant go-to-worship folks honoring the sabbath. And, yes, a man with an unclean spirit. (Could he be the only such soul in the congregation?)

What: Reading holy words, the domain of scribes and scholars, and a shocking teaching given “with authority.”

Where: In the synagogue.

When: On the sabbath.

Who is this one who cried out in the congregation? Was he a scared thief creeping from his hiding place? A lanky kid exhausted from bawling outside locked doors? An old man gasping beneath piles of ill-gotten wealth? A young woman cursing heaven by day and hell by night for reasons no one dares to name? A stumbling fugitive worn down by a lifetime of running? A robust profiteer, master of deception? An unjust judge solemnly wearing a robe woven from threads of secret favors? A miser in a mansion perched above slums? A hoarder of vengeance nursing metastasized hatreds? Have you seen, met, or known any of these among the congregation?

The one with an unclean spirit cried out, “What have you to do with us, Jesus of Nazareth? Have you come to destroy us?” (Mark 1:24). Jesus silences the unclean spirit. But Jesus will not be the destroyer. The crucified one does not crucify. He does not build and fill prisons; he sets free. He does not shun, avoid, and send away; he calls the accursed to himself. He does not condemn the sinner; he rescues and saves.

Yes, they in the synagogue that day and we in the church this day are amazed. Jesus’ teaching with authority contradicts all the rules that anchor us to a spirit of despair. Good news, indeed.