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Most of what we know about Anthony is thanks to St Athanasius, his friend, who wrote his biography. Anthony was born in 251 AD at Coma, a village near Great Heracleopolis in central  Egypt, where he grew up in a very protective and well-off family.

On the death of his parents, he inherited a large estate.  Then, in church one day, he heard the words of the Gospel:

If you wish to be perfect, go, sell your possessions, and give the money to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; then come, follow me. (Matt 19:21)

He took the words as addressed to himself and sold off the whole of the estate, only keeping what he felt he needed for his sister and himself.  Later, he heard the call:

So do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will bring worries of its own. (Matt 6:34)

This led him to give away what he still had, put his sister in a convent and, still only 21 years of age, become a hermit.  He lived alone, working with his hands, praying and doing religious reading.  He only ate bread with salt and only drank water.  He slept on a rush mat.  He was soon seen as a model of humility, holiness and self-discipline. He was assailed by many temptations during this period, some very persuasive, but managed to resist them all.

For many years, Anthony lived in a tomb near his birthplace, but at the age of 35, moved to the ruins of an old castle on top of a mountain.  There he lived for almost 20 years, seeing no one except a person who brought him food every six months!  At the end of that time he set up his first monastery, which consisted of separate cells, each occupied by one monk (like the Carthusians today).  But he still lived mainly on his own, only visiting the monastery when necessary.

In spite of his austere life, he always gave the impression of being energetic and joyful. People could pick him out from among the other monks simply by his cheeriness. Many came long distances to speak with him. And he was as ready to learn from them as they came to learn from him.

At the age of 60, during a time of religious persecution, he went to Alexandria hoping to earn martyrdom, but was not arrested.  Later still, he returned to Alexandria to refute the Arians who denied the divinity of Jesus Christ, but in spite of being asked to stay on in the city, he returned to his life as a hermit.

He died about the year 356, traditionally on 17, January.  He is said to have lived to the remarkable age of 105, never having been sick, still with good sight and sound teeth.  He is regarded as the ‘Father of Monks’.  Several groups of Eastern monks may still be following his teaching, and he certainly influenced later development of monastic life in the Church.

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Commentary on Hebrews 4:12-16

We read today two much-quoted passages from Hebrews, and the reading is in two distinct parts. The first is about the power of Scripture, and the second speaks of Jesus as our High Priest.

First, we are told of the power of God’s word. It is a word that has been conveyed all throughout the long line of prophets and other spokespersons in the Old Testament, culminating in the Word that has come to us, in and through Jesus Christ, who in his whole being and life was the Word. It also comes to us in the earliest writings of the Church, which we call the New Testament. And it continues to come to us in many various ways.

This word is able to penetrate into the deepest recesses of our thoughts and feelings—”sharper than any two-edged sword”. It is “living and active”. It is not a dead word on a printed page. By it our most inmost thoughts and intentions are evaluated and judged as we make our quest for that eternal “rest” in God’s bosom.

What a pity so many Catholics (as opposed to Christians of other denominations) are almost total strangers to this Word and have never experienced its power. By and large in our liturgy and catechesis we have done very little to help our people become familiar with this indispensable tool for their life with God, with each other and with the world in which they live.

In the second part of the reading, Jesus is introduced as our “great high priest”. The author here alone calls Jesus by this title, which is a designation used by Philo for the Logos (the Word). It is the beginning of an extended discussion of the superior priesthood of Christ over and against the priesthood of the Old Testament.

Our High Priest has “passed through the heavens”. In the Old Testament, the high priest on the Day of Atonement would pass from the sight of the people into the Holy of Holies. He was the only person who had the right to enter this sacred space, and then only once a year. Now, in a similar, but much greater way, Jesus—his work of Atonement accomplished—has passed from the sight of his disciples, and ascended through the various levels of the heavens into the sanctuary of Heaven, the place where God himself dwells.

This is the first mention of “heaven” or “heavens” (in the Greek, it is plural) where, according to the Letter, Christ exercises his priestly functions in the presence of his Father. Sitting at the Father’s right hand, the closest place of honour, he belongs there no less than God himself. His single sacrifice, done once and for all, has a perfect and eternal value, never needing to be repeated. Here we find the fulfilment of our greatest hope in God.

The high priest of the Old Testament was a privileged and remote figure (as are many senior hierarchy of our own day). But in Jesus we have a High Priest who is fully able to sympathise with all our weaknesses, for he has undergone trials and temptations similar to, and even exceeding, our own. How many of us have suffered as Jesus did?

But, in one respect, he is radically different—he is totally without the slightest taint of sin. We see how Jesus dealt with temptation to sin in the paradigm of the temptations in the desert, a story encapsulating all the events by which he might have been tempted to violate the will of his Father (see Matt 4:1-11). We are reminded that Jesus our High Priest is not some remote, lofty personage, but someone who has shared intensely the experience of human living, including the weaknesses and temptations to which we are all subjected—though without sin. It is important to realise that weakness and temptation are not to be confused with sin.

Given that we have such a High Priest, we are encouraged to approach God’s throne “with boldness”. There we will find the compassion we need for our failures, and the sources of strength in our times of trial.

In our Eucharist, we continue to meet our High Priest, and indeed the celebrant who presides over the Eucharist is said to be, in a very real way, in loco Christi (in the place of Christ). By our breaking together of the Eucharistic bread, we express our deepest desire to be united with the self-giving sacrifice of our High Priest, a union that is manifested in the way we live out the Gospel message in our daily lives.

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Commentary on Mark 2:13-17

Jesus certainly chose some very strange people to be his followers. Levi was a tax collector, one of a much despised group of people. The Romans did not collect taxes themselves from their subject people. Instead, a local person would pay a lump sum or deposit to the Romans to be designated a publican (tax collector) for a particular area. Along with the job, publicans were given the right to recoup their initial deposit from the taxes they collected. Since they also wanted to make a profit, this laid the system open to widespread abuse and corruption. Tax collectors were regarded as traitors to their own people in collecting taxes for Rome, the hated colonial power. They and their families were social outcasts. No self-respecting and observant Jew would have anything to do with such people.

Yet, here is Jesus offering one such person an invitation, “Follow me”. We need to know that Jesus never goes by stereotypes. Nor does he judge people by their past behaviour. He is only interested in what they can be in the now and in the future. There and then, Levi drops everything and goes after Jesus. That is what following Jesus means. It is what Peter and Andrew, and James and John had also done.

Later, when Jesus is dining at Levi’s house, several known sinners and tax collectors are at table with Jesus and his disciples. In some translations of the Bible, Jesus is said to be dining in “his” house, which is (deliberately?) ambiguous. Is it the house of Levi or the house of Jesus? In either case, it is very meaningful—Jesus eats in a sinner’s house, or he invites a sinner to eat in his house. Perhaps they are celebrating Levi’s becoming a follower. And who else could Levi have invited if not the only people who would mix with him—other tax collectors and outcasts? But in addition, the Gospel says that:

…many tax collectors and sinners were also sitting with Jesus and his disciples, for there were many [tax collectors and their like] who followed him.

This is a real source of scandal for the scribes and Pharisees. If Jesus really was a Rabbi, he would have had nothing to do with such people. To sit down and eat with such ‘unclean’ people was to be contaminated oneself. Jesus replies:

Those who are well have no need of a physician but those who are sick; I have not come to call the righteous but sinners.

As we have already seen, Jesus’ whole mission is one of salvation and redemption of restoring people to wholeness. And how is he to help sinners change unless he is in direct contact with them? By being with sinners, Jesus is not approving or condoning or turning a blind eye to their behaviour. He describes them as “sick”; they are in need of healing and rehabilitation. This can only be done by reaching out to them.

Of course, one can ask if those judging Jesus were not also sick and in need of healing themselves. The difference was that the ‘sinners’ approached Jesus, while the Pharisees could not see or acknowledge their particular kind of sin and consequent need of healing.

Perhaps our Church should look more closely at this passage. So much of our Church work involves serving the already converted or the semi-converted. We are often not present where people are most in need of hearing the gospel message. We tend to side with the Pharisees and feel we should keep away from the ‘sinful’ and the ‘immoral’. We also need to learn the ways by which the gospel message and the gospel vision can most effectively be communicated to those who have lost touch with God and the meaning of life.

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Commentary on Mark 2:1-12

After some days, Jesus returns to Capernaum from his refuge in the desert. Immediately the crowds gather in and around the house where he is staying. It is so crowded that there is no room to get in or out. The ‘house’ is not identified and it is not important. In the early Christian communities, they gathered in one house to celebrate the Eucharist. Jesus was there among them. Some people are inside the house with Jesus; others are still on the outside.

Then, four men arrived carrying a paralytic friend. They were anxious to get to Jesus. Seeing no way in, they went up by the outside staircase and on to the flat roof, removed a few tiles, and let the man down right at the feet of Jesus.

Jesus is touched by their faith, trust and confidence in him—all essential conditions for healing. Jesus says to the paralysed man:

Child, your sins are forgiven.

This must have been a surprising statement to the paralytic. He had come for healing, not forgiveness. Some scribes who were also present were not only surprised, they were deeply shocked, thinking contemptuously to themselves:

Why does this fellow speak in this way? It is blasphemy! Who can forgive sins but God alone?

They are perfectly right, but their eyes are closed to drawing the obvious conclusion. They don’t see because they do not want to see, because—even worse—they think they can see. Even today, we meet Christians like that, who are convinced they and they alone are in sole possession of the ‘truth’.

Jesus, knowing their thoughts then challenges them:

Why do you raise such questions in your hearts? Which is easier: to say to the paralytic, ‘Your sins are forgiven,’ or to say, ‘Stand up and take your mat and walk’?

Then he tells the man:

I say to you, stand up, take your mat, and go to your home.

Of course, telling a person their sins are forgiven is certainly easier, but does the fact that Jesus could heal the paralytic instantly also mean that his sins were forgiven?

We need to realise the close links the Jews of the time made between sin and sickness. Many kinds of sickness were seen as punishment for personal sin or even the sins of parents (see also the story of the man born blind in John’s Gospel, chap 9). The man in this present story was understood to be paralysed because of some sin in his life. If Jesus could clearly remove the illness, then the cause of the illness was also being taken away. In so doing, Jesus makes it clear that in forgiving the man’s sin, he was not blaspheming. He was what he claimed to be.

In our time, we realise that there can be a link between physical illness and the way we act and relate with people. We know that there is a mutual influence between our thinking and our attitudes, feelings and behaviour. Some sicknesses can be psychosomatic, or might result from stress or an imbalance in our relationships with others, our work or our environment. The words holiness, wholeness, health and healing all have a common root. The whole person, one in whom all parts are in perfect harmony, is the truly holy person.

That wholeness is something we need to pray and work for. The paralysed man represents all those who are paralysed in other ways, those who are not able to behave with the freedom that a well-integrated person has. And that integration and wholeness concerns our relations with others, with ourselves, with our environment and, of course, with God.

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Commentary on Hebrews 4:1-5,11

We read today of the “rest” which only God can give. The symbol of “rest” is seen now at a deeper dimension. The promise given to the Israelites is a foreshadowing of that given to Christians, and it is “good news”. Because the Promised Land was seen as the place of rest that God provided for his people, it was a share in his own rest, which he enjoyed after he had finished his creative work (Gen 2:2). The author now relates this meaning of God’s rest to Psalm 95 (in yesterday’s liturgy).

The reading begins with the advice that, while the opportunity to avail of God’s “rest” is present, the Hebrews should avail of it. The implication is that the Israelites in the desert had failed to use the opportunity when they had it (see yesterday’s reading).

The comparison in the current reading is between the Israelites and the Christians. The Israelites, who doubted the word of God, did not enter a place of rest which, for them, was the Promised Land. But God’s promise cannot remain unfulfilled, so it now applies to Christians, invited to enter into a very different Promised Land of unalterable and unending happiness.

If we are to enjoy the “rest” that God wishes us to have, we must open our hearts to God’s call and God’s message. The “good news” (Greek, euangelion; Latin, evangelium) has been coming to us just as it has been coming to God’s people for generations. In the past, however, many did not benefit because, as we saw in yesterday’s reading, they had closed their ears to the message.

However, those who really put their trust in the message—in both their hearts and in their way of life—will enter that “rest”. They are unlike those others of whom God said:

As in my anger I swore,
‘They shall not enter my rest’…

The author now extends the limited meaning of “rest” in Psalm 95 to the “rest” that Genesis speaks of God enjoying at the end of the six days of Creation. And that “rest” has been a reality ever since. And we need to remember that it is God’s “rest” we are speaking about, not ours.

It is for the Hebrew Christians then, while they have the opportunity, to enter that “rest” and not find it closed off because of their refusal to believe—that is, to believe fully in Jesus Christ as Lord and Saviour.

Our goal in life, too, is to experience that eternal place of rest face to face with our loving God. And the warning in this reading is totally appropriate for us too. If we want to experience that future “rest”, we need to be always united with our God in the now. He is to be found nowhere else.

There may be some kind of message here, too, for the way we spend our days and times of rest, especially our Sundays. Are they really days of ‘rest’? Do we spend the time in ways that are creative and nurturing for both spirit and body?

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Commentary on Mark 1:40-45

Today’s healing story does not actually belong to that ‘day in the life of Jesus’ on which we reflected over the past two days.

Lepers were among the most piteous of people in scriptural times. Although little was understood of the origin of the sickness, it was clearly known to be contagious, and therefore greatly feared. The only solution was to isolate the victim and not allow him or her to approach people. So, apart from the appalling physical disintegration of body and limbs, there was the social ostracism, the contempt, and the fearfulness of others which the victim suffered.

What was probably even more tragic was that many who were branded as lepers were likely suffering from some other ailment, which may not have been contagious at all—such as ulcers, cancer or other skin diseases (and perhaps some of them even psychosomatic). The signs for diagnosis are given in chapter 13 of the Book of Leviticus and, by our standards today, are rather primitive indeed. The room for a wrong diagnosis was huge. It was a question of being safe rather than sorry.

The leper in the story indicates his great faith and trust in Jesus, a necessary and sufficient condition for healing in the Gospel. He says:

If you are willing, you can make me clean.

He knows this because he has undoubtedly seen or heard about what others have experienced.

Jesus is filled with a deep sense of compassion for the man’s plight. Highlighting the emotions of Jesus is a characteristic of Mark’s Gospel and is seldom found in Matthew. What Jesus feels is compassion, not just pity. In pity we feel sorry for the person, but in compassion, we enter into the feelings of the other; we empathise with their experience. And, in doing so, Jesus does the unthinkable—he reaches out to touch the leper. This must have been a healing act in itself. The leper was by definition untouchable. Jesus says to him:

I am willing. Be made clean!

But that is not the end of the story because the man has still to be reintegrated into the community—this is the second part of the healing process. He is told to go to the priests to make the customary offering of thanksgiving. They will examine him and then pronounce him fit to reenter society.

He is also told not to say anything to anyone about it. Jesus wanted no sensationalism. But how could the man refrain from telling everybody about his wonderful experience of coming in contact with the whole-making power of Jesus? He becomes an ardent evangeliser, a spreader of good news—something we are all called to be.

What is the outcome of our experience of knowing Jesus? Why do we not have the enthusiasm of this man? It is worth noting that the experience was the result of his first having been the victim of a terrible cross. It is often in our crosses that grace appears.

Once again, Jesus goes out into the desert to avoid the enthusiastic crowds. Jesus was not interested in having ‘fans’, only genuine followers. He would not be ready until his full identity was recognised. That would only happen as he hung dying on the cross (see Mark 15:39).

Before we leave this story, we should ask who are the lepers in our society today? Sadly, there are many marginalized groups—undocumented immigrants, those who are homeless, individuals struggling with addiction to drugs, alcohol, pornography or other harmful substances or activities; indeed, we have many lepers among us. Let us examine our attitudes today and revise them as necessary.

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Commentary on Hebrews 3:7-14

As we have seen, one of the reasons for the writing of this Letter was to forestall the difficulties that some of its target audience, a community of Jewish Christians, were having in accepting Jesus Christ as Messiah and Lord. Today’s reading is a warning not to fall into the unbelief of which the Israelites were guilty in the past. A large part of the reading is taken up with a quotation from Psalm 95 (v 8-11), which is also the Responsorial Psalm for today’s Mass.

The author calls for a firm faith in Jesus. He bases his warning on the experience of Israel during the Exodus. In the Old Testament, the prophets (especially Isaiah) used the Exodus as a symbol of the return of Israel from their exile in Babylon. In the New Testament, the redemptive work of Jesus is seen as a new exodus. Jesus’ journey towards Jerusalem for his suffering, death and resurrection is described as a “going up” (Luke 18:31, Matt 20:18, Mark 10:32). Relatedly, his followers are called to “go out” from a life of slavery to sin and unbelief.

So the author quotes from Psalm 95, which deals with a time during the long Exodus journey through the desert where the people were guilty of hardness of heart and refusing to trust in God’s care for them, even “though they had seen my works for forty years”. The story is told in Exodus 17 and in another form in Numbers 20. The incident took place at Massah and Meribah. ‘Massah’ means ‘place of testing’ and ‘Meribah’ means ‘place of quarreling or rebellion’.

The incident arose when the Israelites found themselves in a place where there was no water. They began to complain and abuse Moses for bringing them to such a place where there was only the prospect of dying of hunger and thirst. In complaining against Moses, they were also, in effect, complaining against God. Although angry with the people for their lack of trust, Yahweh tells Moses to strike a rock and water comes out from it. In the version of the story in Numbers, the focus is on Moses himself. He struck the rock not once but twice and this was taken as a lack of faith on his part. He was punished by dying before his people reached the Promised Land.

The readers of this Letter would have been very familiar with this story and with the Psalm; the implication is that, if they continue in their unbelief, a similar fate awaits them.

Do not harden your hearts as in the rebellion, as on the day of testing in the wilderness.

The word used, ‘rebellion’, is actually a Greek translation of the place name—‘Meribah’; ‘testing’ translates the Hebrew name for ‘Massah’. As we read, the event took place at Massah and Meribah.

And, because of their behaviour, “They will not enter my rest.” In the original psalm, this referred to Canaan as Israel’s final resting place after their long trek. The ‘rest’, into which Israel was to enter, was only a foreshadowing of that rest to which Christians are called. In tomorrow’s reading, we will see the deeper understanding of that ‘rest’.

In the final sentences, the author turns directly to the Hebrew Christians and warns them against similar forms of unbelief and turning away from the “living” God. To call God “living” means that he reveals himself in his works. Instead, they are to be an encouragement to each other “as long as it is called ‘Today'”, so that none of them may be deceived by the allure of actions which are, in fact, sinful and wrong. “Today” indicates that it is still the day of God’s grace and an opportunity to express our trust in God. It will not last forever. The day of reckoning will come and then it will be too late. God is to be found, loved and served in the now.

In a final lovely remark, the author reminds them that they have become “partners of Christ”, and he begs them to hold on to the strong faith they had at the beginning of their conversion.

The reading touches on three periods: the rebellion of the Israelites against Moses and Yahweh in the desert, the weakening faith of the Jewish Christians to whom the sermon was delivered and, finally, our own experience now. The advice of the reading is as relevant to us Christians today as it was to the Hebrews for whom it was written.

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Commentary on Mark 1:29-39

We continue following a day in the public life of Jesus. It was still the Sabbath and, after the synagogue service, Jesus now goes to the house of his two disciples, Simon and Andrew, in Capernaum. Remember that, as it was the Sabbath, people could not go very far or do anything which could be labelled ‘work’.

In the house, Jesus finds Peter’s mother-in-law confined to bed because of a fever. When he is told about it, he immediately goes to see her, takes her by the hand, lifts her up and heals her. Immediately, she gets up and begins to serve them. This is not simply because that is the role of a woman in the home. Rather, it is a way of saying that it is the role of any Christian—man or woman—to serve. Healing is not just to make one well, but to enable one to become again an active, serving member of the community.

In the evening, once the Sabbath was over, people were free to move around. So large numbers come seeking out Jesus to be healed of their sicknesses and to be freed from the power of evil spirits:

That evening, at sunset, they brought to him all who were sick or possessed by demons. And the whole city was gathered around the door.

That is, they were at the door of the house where Jesus was. Many times we will see a reference to the ‘house’ where Jesus is. It seems to be a symbol of the place where Jesus is gathered with those who are close to him, a symbol of a Christian community or of the Church. When the poor and the sick and ‘un-free’ no longer come to the doors of our community seeking healing and wholeness, we need to reflect on the quality of our Christian witness.

The following morning, Jesus leaves and goes to the hills to be alone and to pray. His disciples find him and say:

Everyone is searching for you.

Although there are many demands being made on him by the people of Capernaum, Jesus:

• needs time for himself to renew his spiritual energy and be in contact with his Father, and
• has to think of the needs of other people as well.

Jesus may have been the Son of God, but in his humanity could only be in one place at a time. And during those three years of public life, he really only reached a small number of people. To reach the rest, he needed, and still needs our help.

When Jesus returns from his prayer, he does not go back to Capernaum, although there were certainly more people to be healed and helped there. Instead he went on to synagogues all over Galilee, proclaiming his message of the Kingdom, and making it a reality by healing the sick and liberating those controlled by evil forces.

This scene brings up the importance for us of availability. We do need to be available to all those who are in genuine need. At the same time, there is what we might call the ‘poverty of availability’. No matter how generous and self-giving we are, we can only give so much. We need to find a balance between people’s needs and our limited resources. We do not help people by working ourselves to the point of ‘burnout’. We also need ‘quality time’ to be with God, to pray, and to reflect on our priorities. Jesus gives us an excellent example here.

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Commentary on Hebrews 2:14-18

The readings from Hebrews continue to emphasise the reality of the Incarnation and Christ’s total solidarity with peoples everywhere. Jesus shares with us the same “blood and flesh”. In this way, as one of us, he could offer his life and death to set us free from the power of death, namely the Devil. It is the power of evil which brings real death to people, a death that separates us forever from the love of God. By his own physical death and resurrection, Jesus liberated us from the fear of that death from which there is no escape. That death comes when, through our self-distancing from God, we are caught in a world without life or love.

The Son, in his humanity, did not identify with the angels:

For it is clear that he did not come to help angels but the descendants of Abraham.

Rather, he took his descent from Abraham as did all his fellow-Jews (and remember that this letter was being written for Christians who were Jews):

Therefore he had to become like his brothers and sisters in every respect, so that he might become a merciful and faithful high priest…to make a sacrifice of atonement for the sins of the people.

There is one area, of course, in which he is unlike us—Jesus was totally free of doing evil or wrong in any form. It was precisely because of this that, while in every other respect one of us, he could be our intercessory priest and effectively plead with the Father on our behalf. It was only as one of us, though without sin, that he could offer a priestly sacrifice of atonement and reconciliation for all our sin.

And are we surprised at the next sentence?

Because he himself was tested by what he suffered, he is able to help those who are being tested.

When did Jesus become subject to temptation? We know that, after his baptism, he was tempted by the Evil One in the desert, although these temptations seem to be rather symbols of real testings later on. For instance, after the feeding of the 5,000, the people wanted to make Jesus king, when the whole world would have been at this feet. He fled to the hills to pray to his Father.

At other times, he was challenged to perform signs and miracles so that people would believe in him (corresponding to jumping down from the top of the Temple and not being hurt). And, most of all, during his Passion, Jesus was sorely tempted when he was overcome with such fear that he sweated blood and begged his Father that he not have to endure this Passion. There is even the hint of threatening despair as he hangs on the Cross and cries out:

My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?
(Mark 15:33; Matt 27:46)

But this is immediately followed by words of total acceptance of the Father’s will:

Father, into your hands I commend my spirit. (Luke 23:46)

Because of these experiences, which Jesus could only have had because he totally shared our human condition, he could empathise with the pain and sufferings which we also have to undergo. He continues to empathise with us and, even in our greatest pain, he is not far away, and his love is not far away.

Again, the author of the letter is writing this to show his readers that a suffering and dying Messiah, far from being a contradiction, is the stunning manifestation of the extent of God’s love for us, and that Jesus was indeed the Son of the Father. Finally, it is precisely because of his humanity that he both suffered as we do, but also could be the effective intercessor on our behalf.

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Commentary on Mark 1:21-28

Today’s passage is the first part of a day in the life of Jesus in which he carries out the main activities of his mission—teaching and healing. He goes to Capernaum, the centre of much of his work, on a Sabbath day and like every observant Jew, goes to the synagogue. And, like any Jew who wishes to do so, he addresses the congregation.

He begins to teach the people. Much of Jesus’ work will consist of teaching and communicating his message and his vision of life. People are deeply impressed because, unlike the scribes, he speaks with authority. The scribes could only interpret or give the meaning of the Scripture. Jesus spoke in his own right. Jesus speaks in the best tradition of the great prophets. But there is more. Jesus’ authority is empowering and liberating; it is not oppressive or subjugating. He will say in John’s Gospel:

…you will know the truth, and the truth will make you free. (John 8:32)

Right there in the synagogue was a man possessed by an “unclean” spirit. It was called ‘unclean’ because of its basic resistance to the holiness of God. This was a world where many unexplained symptoms in people were attributed to evil powers and were often believed to be the punishment for sinful behaviour. The spirit resented the presence of Jesus and said:

I know who you are, the Holy One of God.

It was believed that, by giving a hostile spirit its exact name, one could have power over him. But Jesus silences the evil spirit and tells it to come out of the man, who experiences a kind of fit and cries out.

Again the people are amazed at the power and authority of this man Jesus. He has new teaching and can give orders to evil spirits. The question is being asked: “Just who is this man?” This question is the underlying theme of the first half of Mark’s Gospel.

It for us to submit ourselves to the same empowering authority of Jesus, to listen to his teaching by steeping ourselves in his Gospel message and experiencing his healing and liberation in our lives.