Anyone here remember the old Columbo mystery TV shows? The ones I’ve seen at least always had at least one thing different from most mysteries on TV. The story would begin with us, the audience, seeing the villain doing whatever dastardly deed, usually murder. So we always knew who the culprit was and how the crime was committed, and the show involved us watching Columbo and the police get from where they were to where we were. In other words, the drama of the show was watching Columbo figure the crime out.

 

The Gospel of Mark is not all that different from that old TV show, because it too is kind of set up like a mystery. The mystery is “who and what is Jesus?” And like Columbo, Mark gives us the answer right off the bat. Mark 1:1 is “The beginning of the Gospel of Jesus Christ, the son of God.” There you go. Mystery solved.

 

For us anyway.

 

The rest of the Gospel tale involves us watching everyone else in the course of Jesus’ life struggle with the question. Who is this guy? How does he do these things? “What is this? A new teaching—with authority! He commands even the unclean spirits, and they obey him.Mutters an astonished crowd, uttering aloud the very question that dominates Mark’s version of Jesus’ life story. Just who is this guy anyway?

 

With Columbo and his mysteries, you’re pretty confident that despite Columbo’s bumbling shtick, he’s smart enough to figure out the crime. With Mark however, you’ll often find yourself baffled that no one ever seems to figure it out, despite the fact that they’re given some pretty obvious clues.

 

Take today’s lesson for instance. How many clues to Jesus’ identity appear in this story of Christ casting out an unclean spirit? Right off the bat, you hear about how Jesus’ teaching in the synagogue is something new and different. He teaches as one with authority, something that his predecessors in the synagogue lack. Clue #1. Then, the man with the unclean spirit enters and once in Jesus’ presence, the unclean spirit convulses the man and cries out “What have you to do with us, Jesus of Nazareth? Have you come to destroy us? I know who you are, the Holy One of God.

 

Ok, big clue here. A demonic spiritual power gives away the big secret right there. The demon is terrified because he knows exactly who Jesus is and even announces it to the crowd. This demonic power is not fooled. He knows what he’s in for at the hands of God’s chosen Messiah. Clue #2.

 

And Jesus, true to form, commands the demon to be gone and he goes. With one final convulsion, the unclean spirit departs at Jesus’ command. Now there was an exorcism rite in ancient Judaism and much like the rarely used rite in Roman Catholicism today, it’s fairly elaborate. Jesus needs no such props. He speaks and the demon departs. Clue #3.

 

And yet, despite having these three fairly obvious clues to the answer of Jesus’ identity the crowd still doesn’t get it.

They gasp with astonishment and wonder, but never put two-and-two together. They are blind the presence of God in their very midst.

 

This sort of pattern is consistent throughout Mark’s Gospel. Demons know who Jesus is right off the bat, but the only mortal who figures it out is the Roman Centurion standing at the foot of the cross at the crucifixion. “Truly this man was the Son of God.”

 

We can laugh at the foolishness of all those who just didn’t see Jesus for who and what he was, but that’s a dangerous road to travel. Mark has a purpose in crafting his Gospel in this way. His is the first of the four Gospels written, written in a time when the question of Jesus’ identity and purpose was very much on the minds of the people of ancient Israel. Mark tells his version of Jesus’ life in this way to remind us that maybe we don’t always get it either. That who Jesus is and why he came may elude us as well.

 

In the midst of miracles, like the casting out of this demon in the man in the synagogue, the crowd cannot fathom who Jesus is. Yet we are granted miracles time and again in our own lives, loving spouses, caring friends, the wonder of children and grandchildren. Do we see Jesus’ hand behind them and his love in granting us these graces?

 

The gospel of Mark ends with the disciples fleeing from the empty tomb in abject terror. How often do we cave into our fears and anxieties? We live now in the midst of the worst economic times our nation has faced in 80 years. The threat of terrorism remains despite the best efforts of our armed forces worldwide. The empty tomb symbolizes the end of fear. Do we get it?

 

Christ is all around us. He is here, in this place, even now. Open your eyes and you can see him. His presence is attested to by the symbolism of this sanctuary, the dove of peace, the sacrificial lamb of God, the cross upon which he died. It is spoken of in the words of our worship and in the sacraments. You are marked with the cross of Christ, and given and shed for you. You can see him in the faces of the people sitting next to you.

 

And not just here, but everywhere. I saw him earlier this week, when the hoar-frost clung to the trees creating one of the most beautiful winter landscapes I’ve seen in my seven years on this mountaintop. We are surrounded by tiny miracles, all granted by Jesus’ grace and love for us.

 

The crowds and disciples of ancient times could not see Jesus because he came in ways unexpected. He still comes to us in ways we don’t anticipate either, and yet he is there nonetheless. Open your hearts and your eyes and you will see him. He is no mystery to us. He is the Son of God and he has promised his peace, his strength, and his presence throughout our lives. He is with us always, but not always where we expect. Amen.