Mark 1:29-31; Matthew 8:14-15; Luke 4:38-41
Though early in his ministry, Jesus consistently felt the press of the crowd. The constant demand upon his time and energy. Tossed aside by those in his hometown of Nazareth, Jesus found rest from the rigors of his work in the home of Peter and Andrew, two of his most trusted disciples. We find him on several occasions in Capernaum, staying with the family of these close friends.
Men being men, I doubt that Jesus felt most comfortable in this home because of the two brothers who followed him. I suspect his delight in visiting their home in Capernaum arose from the welcome he received every time from Peter’s mother-in-law. Scripture tells us her name was Mary.
Cast aside the flood of mother-in-law jokes told since the beginning of time. Mary must have been one of the good ones. Maybe you picture her as I do. From the moment of her daughter’s betrothal to Peter, she loved him as a son. From that time on, anyone Peter brought home was also her “son.” She was Mom to all of Peter’s friends.
When Peter returned from fishing or from time away with Jesus, she scurried to embrace Peter and his friends every time as if they had been gone for years. The welcome genuine. The hospitality generous. The love evident. Greeting them with a hug, a smile and a warm plate of bread fresh from the oven.
Jesus knew this family. Loved this family. Within these walls Jesus rested. Relaxed. Laughed. Talked about anything and everything that had nothing to do with his work. It was his sanctuary. God’s son spent days as a guest in this…his home away from home away from home.
On this day, after a morning of teaching and healing, Jesus stooped as he pushed through the low door to the small cottage not far from the synagogue. He expelled a deep breath…the burdens he carried dropped from his shoulders as soon as he stepped over the threshold. Today, two steps in, he knew something was wrong. Rather than the typical shriek of joy at welcomed visitors there was only silence. The normal aroma of food cooking in the hearth replaced by the sweet smell of medical ointment.
Peter called out to his mother-in-law, “Mary, where are you?”
Walking to the back room, the disciple found her in bed in the grip of a major fever, tended to by friends. Recognizing intuitively the seriousness of her illness, Peter called to Jesus.
Jesus walked into the room, immediately assessing the situation. Peter asked his master, “Can you help her?”
Jesus knelt by the bed and took the woman’s hand in one of his own. Laid the palm of his other hand on her feverish forehead. He offered a quick prayer as he slid his hand lovingly to her cheek. Her eyes flickered open.
As Jesus rose he helped Mary from her bed. She stood, looked at Jesus with a sparkle in her eyes, tugging gently on his graying beard. “It’s good to see you again, Jesus.”
Her illness forgotten, she laughed with joy at seeing her son-in-law, his brother and friends. With a look of embarrassment, she realized they would be hungry. She had prepared nothing. With a song in her heart, pulled a meal together and waited on them throughout the day.
*****
It’s an obscure scripture reference rarely read. That the story centers on a mother-in-law is even more obscure. Peter’s mother-in-law, Mary, joins Naomi in the Old Testament as the only two mothers-in-law mentioned in scripture.
Reading between the lines, Peter loved his mother-in-law. His concern during her illness evident in his call to Jesus. I can also imagine that every time Jesus visited Capernaum he enjoyed the fellowship of this godly woman…his second mother in every way that mattered.
I read this scripture this week just days after my own mother-in-law’s funeral. It left me feeling with a degree of certainty that Peter’s mother-in-law was not unlike my own. We tend to assign characteristics of Bible characters to the personalities of people we know. It is the way we relate to them on a more personal level. In many ways, I can assign my mother-in-law’s characteristics to Peter’s mother-in-law.
If I do so, I know Jesus didn’t go to Peter’s house for the food. My mother-in-law, Glenna, could not cook. Raw meat loaf. Greasy baloney and potatoes. Canned vegetables and desserts right out of the box. Imagine a home economics major who could not cook. That was Glenna.
If Peter’s mother-in-law was like Glenna she was infinitely gullible, making her the target of good natured ribbing. Though falling for every exaggerated story, she laughed at herself while basking in the love wrapped in the telling. Just when you think you got the better of her, she’d pull out the world’s kindest insult to rattle your cage.
If Peter’s mother-in-law was like my own, she sent Peter and Andrew to sing in the family choir at the synagogue in matching home-made, lime-green, velour sweatshirts, oblivious to the horror-stricken look on their faces. Ugly as sin, the clothing was made with great affection.
Despite those shortcomings, if Peter’s mother-in-law was like my own, she was loved deeply and completely by all of her sons-in-law. She was a second mother to Peter…and to Jesus…as much as Glenna was to me.
Like Peter’s mother-in-law, Glenna opened her heart to everyone. If you wish to define the spiritual gift of hospitality, look no further. My mother-in-law welcomed everyone, even the West Texas boy her daughter brought rather unexpectedly that first time to the family reunion. That was the first time I experienced her warmth, but it was not the last time I felt it or saw it enclose others in its embrace. She had a gift for making people feel valued.
Like Peter’s mother-in-law, Glenna used that gift of hospitality to serve at church, at school and within the community. She was constantly making things for others. Bible bags for children at church. Rag bags for newlyweds. Clothes of extraordinary colors for her grandchildren. She loved to give gifts with a personal touch. If you needed something, she would drop what she was doing to help you. Forever unselfish in her service to others.
Like Peter’s mother-in-law, Glenna knew Jesus. She shared and demonstrated her faith to hundreds of second grade children who passed through her Sunday School class for more than 50 years. She taught the love of Jesus, making him real and personable to so many children. I cannot begin to fathom the number of children, now adults, who placed their trust in Jesus Christ, in part, because of what they learned from Glenna years ago. The wonderful thing is that her faith never wavered, despite the tragedies that struck her heart throughout her life.
Like Peter’s mother-in-law, Glenna’s kindness extended to everyone she met. I knew her for more than 45 years. If she ever had an unkind thought, she never expressed it aloud. I suspect the thought never crossed her mind. She was absolutely the kindest person I ever knew.
Dementia took its toll in her later years. We have all seen that dreaded disease confuse, confound and change the personality of the sufferer. However, it never changed Glenna. Her sweet demeanor…her joy…her ability to sing praises to God (off key)…never changed. When she could not remember the names of those in her family, she could remember every stanza to What a Friend We Have in Jesus.
I will miss my mother-in-law. I cherish her love for me and my love for her. I am also grateful that I see the best of her every day in the life and love of my wife. They are alike in so many ways.
Thanks to Peter’s mother-in-law for reminding me.