When they got out of the boat, people at once recognised him, and rushed about that whole region and began to bring the sick on mats to wherever they heard he was 

(Mark 6:54-55)

I’ve been down in Coventry this week. When I got down on Monday my Mum was in hospital. She’d been getting a new knee and there had been a couple of complications. Sometimes I’ve been accused of being a bit political in my sermons and his year marks the seventieth anniversary of the National Health Service For me, that is one of the best things - maybe the best thing - any government of any stripe has ever done for this country. There are parts of the world where, unless you can afford it, you simply don’t get a new knee like that. There are parts of the world where, if there are complications, you’d better hope your health insurance covers them. Here, in this country, it doesn’t matter who you are, it doesn’t matter how you came to be ill: if you’re sick you get treated.

Much has been made of the fact that Nye Bevan was a socialist. He was also the son of a Baptist and a Methodist. He was, one imagines, a good Welsh Chapel boy in his time and he would have grown up hearing the stories and the teachings of Jesus. Who knows? Maybe these had an influence on him, because there are elements of what we have heard in our readings this morning that make me think of the NHS and all that is best about it.

Sometimes, when you’re reading this section of Mark’s gospel it’s hard to keep track of where Jesus is. He and his followers are sailing backward and forward across the Sea of Galilee. One minute they’re in Capernaeum, the next they’re in Genessaret. Maybe that’s the point. It’s what Jesus does in these places that’s important. Here they arrive, they get out of the boat and immediately folk from all around the area start bringing sick people to Jesus for healing. They recognise him. They are confident that if they bring their loved ones to him in their need he will look after them.

Let’s for a moment think about what Jesus doesn’t do. He doesn’t ask about their health insurance. He doesn’t ask how they’re going to pay for their healing. He doesn’t ask how they got sick; whether they had any bad habits that might have led to their getting ill, or whether they were eating a healthy diet or getting enough exercise. “Friend”, he doesn’t say, “You are clinically obese and have brought this upon yourself.” None of that matters. They are in need and he heals them. Come one, come all.

I find that interesting. There’s a line in the Creed that says, “from there he will come and judge the living and the dead.” In Christian thinking Jesus is the judge of all humanity but here, in this passage, he stands in judgement over no one. He denies no one. He refuses no one. Over the last few years, as the NHS has come under increasing stress, I’ve heard folk complain that people from other countries get treated if they fall ill in this country. I’ve heard folk complain that drug addicts get treated when their sickness is a result of their own lifestyle choices. I’ve heard folk say that people should be charged for medical treatment if they are overweight or don’t take care of their health. The NHS goes on, though, offering healing to who ever needs it, whoever they are, whatever they’ve done. Come one, come all! I’m rather proud of that.

When we are strong, when we feel independent - when we are proud of the fact that we can stand on our own two feet and look after ourselves and our families, it’s very easy to stand in judgement of those who can’t. It’s very easy, for example, when you’re reasonably well-off, can afford to pay the rent or the mortgage and treat yourself to a few nice things now and then, to think that those who can’t are morally deficient in some way. Maybe they’re lazy. Maybe they spend all their money on fags and booze and lottery tickets. Maybe they’re spongers off the state. Maybe they don’t deserve benefits or sympathy or support.

See any sense, in our passage, of Jesus deciding whether people “deserve” healing? Whether they “deserve” his teaching? All that matters is their need. Come one, come all.

Maybe this is what Mark is getting at by recording the way Jesus criss-crosses the Sea of Galilee until our heads start spinning and we lose track of where he is. It’s what he’s getting at by having, at one moment, Jesus teaching in Capernaeum among good, synagogue-attending Jews and the next healing a guy in Gadara where they herd pigs.  The love of God revealed in Jesus Christ isn’t just for the “deserving”. It isn’t just for the folk who live their lives the right way and keep their noses clean. It isn’t just for the people who can stand on their own two feet and look after themselves because, truth to tell, however much we might think of ourselves in that light, in the words of a song by Kirsty McColl, “From the sharks in the penthouse to the rats in the basement it's not that far. To the bag lady frozen asleep in the park oh no it's not that far.”

We are, all of us, more fragile than we sometimes think. We are, all of us, in need of care and healing sometimes. We are, all of us, tempted by greed and selfishness sometimes. We are, all of us, in need of a spiritual light in our lives to guide us out of the darkness that can envelop anyone. That comes with being human. That’s why the love of God is not for one select part of humanity - it’s for everyone. Come one, come all!

Over the last few decades the Church has spent a lot of time talking about outreach. Here t is in this passage. If you can do anything in your life to let folk know that this place isn’t just for the “unco guid” or “respectable folk” but for anyone who wants to walk in and find the love of God, then you are God’s invitation - you reflect the outreach of Christ to those in need: Come one, come all!

If you hear folk talking disparagingly about the poor or the unemployed or the refugee, and you remind them that men and women in those positions are little different from them - if you let them know that in this place the love of God is for all - regardless of their status in the eyes of the world. If you let them know that this place is for rich and poor, for weak and strong, for old and young, for men and women of any race or background, then you are God’s invitation - you reflect the outreach of Christ to those in need: Come one, come all!

This year the National Health Service is seventy years old. You can call the principles on which it was founded “socialist” if you like, but to me they reflect the essence of the Christian faith - of God coming into the world to share our fragility, to share our weakness, to share our pains and troubles. It reflects the love of God in Jesus Christ that reaches out to all - whoever they are, whatever they’ve done - in healing and grace. Come one, come all.

Lord may we be your invitation . May we forget the divisions humanity sets up between “us” and “them”. May we see all those we meet as our brothers and sisters and offer your healing love.

Preached at Gretna:St. Andrews Parish church