A sermon on Mark 1.29-39, preached at Rejoice Lutheran Church in Erie, Colorado.
When I was in elementary school, I would race to get ready each morning. As soon as I woke up I’d cast off the covers, throw on some clothes, grab a quick breakfast, and be out the door and on my way in just minutes. When I arrived at school, I’d cautiously straddle the fine line between a quick shuffle and full on running, somewhere right around olympic speed walking, as I made my way down the covered sidewalks and linoleum floors of the fourth and fifth grade hall. The classroom at the end of this hall, the last room on the right, just before the principal’s office, cast a warm, yellow glow out into the hall and emitted a continual, reverberating hum that shook the whole of each student’s existence.
