This morning's Gospel is the third, and final piece of a genuinely extraordinary portion of Scripture, unlike any other. It is part of a small, intimate glimpse into the life of Jesus without parallel in the rest of Scripture. The first chapter of the Gospel of St. Mark contains something no other part of the Bible does: it recounts a day in the life of Jesus. One day. One full day. What was an ordinary day in the life of Jesus like? Here we have our one and only report. It is stretched over three weeks in the Gospel readings of the Episcopal church - two weeks ago, continung last week, and finishing today. Taken together, the three Gospel lessons report on one single day.

After his Baptism in the Jordan, and his temptation in the desert, Jesus comes into Galilee, where he grew up. We saw him then, three Sundays ago, walking by the Sea of Galilee. And there he calls his first disciples, Peter and his brother Andrew, James and his bother John. Then the four of them, together with Jesus, walk as far as Capernaum, a three-hour walk, and they arrive just at sundown as the Sabbath is beginning - Friday afternoon at sunset. As the Sabbath begins, Jesus goes to the synagogue in Capernaum, and we had that incident in last week's Gospel.

In the Synagogue, Jesus heals a man possessed of a demon, and all are astonished. The demon, on leaving, can tell who Jesus is, and makes a profane profession that Jesus is the Holy One of God. On leaving the synagogue, Mark tells us, "Jesus went with James and John straight to the house of Simon Peter and Andrew. There he cures Peter's mothe-in-law, who is in bed with a fever, and then they all have dinner, Simon Peter's mother-in-law now well enough to do the cooking herself. That evening, Saturday evening, as the Sabbath ends at sundown, Jewish law again permits people to travel about on their errands and daily round of business. The people of that area, doubtless those from the synagogue who had seen what had happened there, and others, who in that small town, had doubtless already heard all about the synagogue healing - all of those people flock to the house. They brought to him all who were sick and possessed of demons. And he cured them all. In the morning, before the dawn of a new day, Jesus gets up and leaves the house and goes out to a lonely spot, out of town, a quiet, private place, to pray. Peter catches up with him, and can't quite understand what Jesus is doing, he wants him to come back and continue the spectacular events in that little house of Peter's. Jesus tells him they must all move on - they cannot stay, they need to proclaim the Gospel through all of Galilee, not just in the village of Capernaum.

Here then is the outline of the day: Jesus walks alone by the Sea of Galilee, he sees young men and calls them to follow him and become his disciples, the five of them all walk to Capernaum, they worship there in the synagogue, Jesus goes home with his friends, they have dinner and then he gets up early and leaves the house to pray. What is going on in these few actions, spread over a leisurely day, is awesome. And it tells us just about all we need to know about the day-to-day living of our Christian lives.

Jesus calls his disciples; The word "call" is used deliberately - he calls them, he does not cajole them, or beguile them, or charm them, or threaten them, or browbeat them, or make them feel guilty, he does not act superior, or demanding, or imperious. He doesn't manipulate them or trick them or mislead them. He calls them. Straightforward, honest, pure. Mothers all know what he did here - you all called your kids in to dinner, how many times. Yes, you expected they would come, but it was not haughty or unkind - you invited them in, called them to dinner - of course they came! Just so Jesus - he invites them to something good: Follow me, and they do.

Christians through teh ages have run the risk of calling people in ways very unlike the way of Jesus. It is a risk we as a parish, wanting to grow, will face in the months and years ahead. We must resist the urge to gather members, to bring people to Christ, by clever campaigns, by charming them, by making them feel guilty, by hectoring or bullying them into coming. If we are to be like Jesus, or a good mother, we will simply call them, invite them, speak to them of what we believe and love. And the outcome is in God's hands and his alone. We must just show great care over the methods we use - we call people, simple, honest, pure - to something good, very good indeed.

later, Jesus goes to the synagogue, and he begins to teach, impressing everyone. They immediately perceive that he teaches with authority, some great and unknown, but obvious authority. That is still who we come to church to hear, not a preacher or a leturer, just someone who speaks about our Lord, and lets our Lord speak to us with his authority - people can always tell the difference. People in Capernaum, people in Phoenix. People can tell what is coming from our Lord and what is not, what has authority and what does not. The people can always distinguish.

Jesus then cures a man troubled, tormented, driven to distraction and despair by personal interior demons, tearing him apart. As the evil slips away from the man, even this demon, this very evil thing, can tell it is in the presence of the Lord, in the presence of Jesus. We need to be careful and modest when we acknowledge Jesus as Lord, we need to stay away from the kind of smug Christianity that demands of hapless bystanders: "Do you knew the Lord Jesus!" That is not the point, and that is not enough. Even demons know it is Jesus.

When they all reach Peter and Andrew's house, they find that Peter's mother-in-law is suffering from a fever, Jesus lays his hands on her and she recovers and gets up. We often, and rightly, stand amazed and dazzled, like the people in the synagogue, at the power of God expressed in miracles hoped for, longed for, prayed for. It is one of the main ways God shows his power. But we can usually feel pretty much like bystanders in those glorious healings, as well we might. We cannot raise the dead to life, we cannot give sight to those blind from birth, we cannot heal leprosy with a glance. But you know, we can help people in our family who have a fever. Jesus heals her instantly, and that is miraculous, but it is not so far from the faithful mother who watches over her child, and gives him aspirin and water, and fruit juice, who calls the doctor if necessary, or the father who tays with his little girl, maybe tells her stories, to help his little girl stay in bed, and get well faster. When we have helped the child or the aunt or the spouse or the mother, when the fever leaves them, we have participated in the miracles of Jesus and in the glory of God. It is not so foreign after all, We all do it without ever thinking, perhaps, how wonderful it is, and what good we can accomplish for people who suffer.

Then early in the morning Jesus leaves the place and goes to lonely place by himself to pray. At the moments of his greatest success, he goes on, he does not cling to the moment, or prolong it for his own satisfaction. People have come from all over to this miracle worker and he has been rightly amazing. He could have strayed there, aware of the good he was doing, and secretly basking in all the adulation, but that is not his mission - to be at the center of success, the center of praise, the center of appreciation. He needs to go on, he cannot cling to success and good times and good feelings. The kingdom of God is all so much more than that.

He leaves to pray, goes off by himself to pray about what is going on. We need always to show a similar honesty. We may well be doing good, saying the correct things, behaving the right way, but what affect is it having on others? Do we do something because praise and appreciation is important to us, maybe too important? As the gratitude builds, we may need to withdraw to a quiet place and pray, and wonder, with God's guidance, why we are doing what it is we are doing, and should we now go on to other things. And just leave the applause behind.

This day, this day in the life of Jesus, does not contain all things Christians need to know, it is not by any means the full faith in some perfect, brief form. But this day, this one single day that ended up being described so fully in the Gospel may show us how to live our own simple days. We could do worse than measure our normal, ordinary days by the light of a normal, ordinary day in the life of Jesus. I bet we will discover that we are doing better than we thought, I bet we will discover we are closer to the Kingdom of God then we thought, I bet we will discover that we are more like Jesus than we ever dared hope.