My family and I have been in the process of moving houses this summer - not once, but twice. First to a temporary house, then to a permanent one later. Moving can be relentless, exhausting, ungrounding. You sometimes feel like you can’t catch a break: there is always more to do, more problems to solve, more children to comfort (in my case), more lost things to find. For me it’s the capstone to a relentless and exhausting season that started with Covid in March of 2020. So I’m late with the litany this week. Sorry.
And I’m taking some comfort in this week’s Gospel reading. Jesus notices the exhaustion felt by himself and the apostles. “He said to them, "Come away to a deserted place all by yourselves and rest a while." For many were coming and going, and they had no leisure even to eat.” So they all sail away in a boat to try to catch a break. And even then, they can’t. People - beloved people with real and profound needs both spiritual and physical - follow them (Mark 6: 55,56).
“[W]herever he went, into villages or cities or farms, they laid the sick in the marketplaces, and begged him that they might touch even the fringe of his cloak; and all who touched it were healed.” If Jesus needs a break, in his humanity and therefore limited physical energy, he has to WORK for it - carve it out, prioritize it, make it happen. At least, as I imagine. I’m so grateful for the solidarity here in this text. For the exhausted and run-down. The weary and overdrawn. The ones who are trying to pour from the dregs of a cup. For me and you. Jesus meets us here, where we’re just trying to catch a break.
God, the pace of our lives is sometimes faster than we can keep;
The needs of those around us are sometimes more than we can handle;
The work before us sometimes seems unending;
And the chaos around us is sometimes overwhelming.
We long to pause, to rest.
We thirst for renewal….