The Ordinary Joe

Dr. J. Lawrence Cuthill

July 23, 2006

Mark 6:30-34, 53-56

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[When they returned from their mission Jesus had given them] the apostles gathered around Jesus, and told him all that they had done and taught. 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. And they went away in the boat to a deserted place by themselves. Now many saw them going and recognized them, and they hurried there on foot from all the towns and arrived ahead of them. . . . When they had crossed over, they came to land at Gennesaret and moored the boat. When they got out of the boat, people at once recognized him and rushed about that whole region and began to bring the sick on mats to wherever they heard he was. And wherever 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.

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Clearly they were beaming, enthusiastic. Theirs had to have been a heady experience. Common folk like themselves: fishermen, tax collectors, average Joes had seen the power of God at work through their teaching, healing and exorcising evil spirits. It was all so OTT (over the top).

Having such an awesome experience has left them with the appetite for more. Momentum has been generated. They are on a roll. What does their leader do in response to their excitement? He says, “It’s time to get away from it all and rest awhile.” With people swarming all over them they might well have protested, “But Jesus,” “we’ve got ‘em in the palm of our hand. Now’s the time to strike while the iron is hot, ride this avalanche of success to the fullest You could be crowned king, emperor,  high priest… name it!

We are all at our most vulnerable following a success. We think we’re more than we are. We begin think it’s about us. Hey, I’m pretty good!  Watch me work!

Jesus, however, overruled the disciples’ enthusiasm, and they boarded a boat headed for a remote place… but the best laid plans oft go astray. (Actually Robert Burns actually wrote, “The best laid schemes o’ mice an’ men gang aft agley.”)

They couldn’t escape the crowd who spotted them and here the crowd came. It was enough to make a person irritable. Ever had your plans to get away interrupted by a most inconvenient illness, a severe storm, a death in the family, a project that had to be completed but unraveled? Expectations get dashed, and it’s not uncommon to feel resentment at those you hold responsible. No R & R for this team of disciples. There the people were, waiting, when the boat touched shore.

Instead of pleading for respite – for a well deserved break – Jesus looked at this gathered group with their neediness readily seen in their eyes and he had compassion. They were like a sheep without a shepherd, that would be lost, vulnerable and bleating, and he ministered to them.

The scene jumps now but it’s essentially déjà vu all over again. At the end of the day he sends his disciples ahead and they have a hairy crossing of the lake – storms, waves, fear and this time he comes to them walking on the water. The storm stops and when they reach land, needy people immediately recognize him and here they come again. Once again Jesus sees them as individuals, as persons with needs, not as problems or as projects.

This week I once again came across the words from a poem by Emma Lazarus that are engraved on the Statue of Liberty:

Give me your tired, your poor,

Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,

The wretched refuse of your teeming shore;

Send these, the homeless, the tempest-tost to me.”

One has to wonder about the how the sentiment of this inscription is reflected in the nation’s present hot political debate over immigration laws. Let there be no doubt about it, however; Jesus welcomed the tempest tossed. He had compassion on them and healed them. Here they came – the sick who thought “If I can just       touch the fringe of his cloak, I will be healed.” And they were. The huddled masses that came to Jesus were         the ordinary Joes; the common folk, the regular guys. In today’s world these would include the 3 billion          people who live on $2 a day.

In terms of the U.S. population, they might have drawn from the 13% of the total population who live below the poverty line, the million Americans who are homeless… and in that mass would have been a host of average folk, ordinary people. Perhaps in your mind’s eye with imagination intact you could find your own face in the crowd.

Who are they? Who are these folk who then and now respond to this teacher/healer? Who are today’s ordinary Joes? When Kevin O’Keefe, author of The Average American: The Extraordinary Search for the Nation’s Most Ordinary Citizen was interviewed by Newsweek in October 2005 he reported that he had devoted two years to crunching numbers and compiling data from the average Americans age to the ability to name the Three Stooges.

In case you’re wondering, the average American is thirty six  years old and can name the Stooges: Curly, Moe and… uh…? Joe American has nine friends (though that could mean nine who are little more than acquaintances). The average Joe drinks the milk from the bowl after he’s eaten the cereal and  he eats twenty five pounds of candy a year.

The average Jill, to be fair, probably doesn’t drink the milk in the bowl after the cereal is finished, but she orders more lattes, says the word “precious” more often, does 400 loads of laundry a year, drives an SUV 9,856 miles a year to soccer, band and karate practice, and just joined Weight Watchers for the third time. Joe and Jill believe in God and attend church, a least a dozen times a year.

That’s just a quick snapshot of the average American according to O’Keefe. I hesitate to share such material because I sense that hearing what constitutes “average” fosters mediocrity. None of us wants our children to grow up to just be average, but as adults we find some comfort, maybe too much, in learning that that we are about average. “See, Louise, we come to church fourteen times a year. That’s above average.” Do we just settle for average? Mediocrity?

The point is that Jesus had deep compassion for the masses -- the sick, the lame, the blind, but also for the vast majority of those who sought him out who were ordinary Jills and Joes. Jesus had a thing for ordinary people, normal people, typical people. He seemed less interested in the elite, the establishment, the upper crust.  It was not that he rejected them but that the nature of his teaching and ministry evoked rejection by them. His message is just too radical, too liberal, for folks who are too set and too self-satisfied.

 The normal, the average, the typical -- all terms I use with caution -- joined with the hurting, the discomfited, the down-and-out in flocking to this teacher. I say this with caution because normal implies the opposite of abnormal which is generally taken to mean something regrettable, deplorable, deficient or deviant. Taken a step further, normal is what is familiar (that is, others who are relatively like me) and abnormal is unfamiliar and therefore considered strange, fearful and undesirable. We, and our crowd, are normal. We set the norm. But I have to say after many years of counseling, both as counselor and counselee, I have yet to meet the mythical, normal person… myself included. We all have our quirks, our idiosyncrasies, secrets and fits of foolishness. Someone once said to a congregation that a recent study showed that one in three people in any given congregation is abnormal.

Look at the person on your left; now the person on your right. If they don’t look that strange, guess what?

My point is that we’re all, by some definition, in some fashion, people who at best can only approximate normality. The world may adore the superstar, the super cool, the seemingly self-sufficient, but who notices us average folk who are often overworked, overlooked, and overwhelmed; those who are just getting by or on the edge, those who keep it together -- but barely -- and who long for someone to know, to understand, to care. There are a thousand such dramatic stories right here… and millions out there. To those who are “sheep without a shepherd,” Jesus sees you: the disenfranchised, the desperate, the devalued, divorced, the disturbed, doubtful and devastated… all you ordinary people. When he sees that crowd that includes us, Jesus thinks to himself, “God, I love these people!” Such compassion!

R & B singer and songwriter John Legend garnered eight Grammy nominations last winter for his song “Ordinary People.” He won in two categories. In the chorus of the song, he writes:

We’re just ordinary people;

We don’t know which way to go. Cuz we’re ordinary people;

Maybe we should take it slow.

In other words, we need to acknowledge who we are and not panic, as sheep are inclined to do. There is a shepherd.

“And Jesus taught them many things.” Clearly, from all we learn about and from Jesus, his teaching is not ethereal, other worldly spiritual knowledge without down-to-earth application by ordinary people. Those who truly receive Christ’s love, share it in concrete and specific ways.

Jim Wallis points out in God’s Politics that our faith does not allow us to live in a way that is self-centered and self-indulgent. Followers of Christ are commanded to care for the poor and vulnerable, to act as good stewards of God’s creation. We are challenged to be peacemakers, and to respect the image of God in every person. Our views on abortion, capital punishment, homosexuality, euthanasia, weapons of mass destruction and AIDS cannot be determined by our personal preferences. Instead, they must reflect a consistent ethic of human life, in line with the biblical challenge to “choose life” (Deuteronomy 30:19) not just for ourselves but for other ordinary people. Jesus teaches us, so that we won’t wander in the wrong direction.

We may disagree with other ordinary followers of Christ, but we must do so with deep respect. Having said all this  about Christ’s love for ordinary people, let me quote C.S. Lewis who seemingly (but not really) contradicts the thesis. In The Weight of Glory, Lewis writes: “There are no ordinary people. You have never talked to a mere mortal… Next to the Blessed Sacrament itself, your neighbor is the holiest object presented to your senses… for in him Christ is truly hidden.” None of us ordinary people -- red yellow, black or white or whatever labels or categories are used to describe the human creature -- is anything less than extraordinary for we are the beloved creatures of this extraordinary Christ.

AMEN