February 28 Lent 3 Mark 10:13-31

At first glance it appears as if the scene where Jesus blesses the little children has nothing to do with the second scene of Jesus talking to the rich man about eternal life.  But the two are very deeply connected.

Commentator Pheme Perkins notes this:

“Modern readers find it difficult to avoid romanticizing the ideal of a child.  They typically look at some characteristic of children, like innocence or dependence or acceptance, as the meaning of ‘become like a child.’  However, ancient societies lacked such romantic notions of childhood….

“The child in antiquity was radically dependent upon the pater familias.  The father decided whether the child would even be accepted into the family.  Children belonged to their father and remained subject to his authority even as adults.  The saying ‘to receive the kingdom like a child,’ …refers to the radical dependence of the child on the father for any status, inheritance, or, in families where children might be abandoned, for life itself.  It warns the disciples that they are radically dependent upon God’s grace.”  (New Interpreter’s Bible Commentary, Volume 8, Pg. 647)

            Jesus means nothing about naiveté or innocence when Jesus talks about receiving the kingdom as a child.  He is talking about dependence upon the Father – God; depending on God for any status or inheritance or life itself.

            Return your thoughts to the story of Adam and Eve.  What is at the root of their sin, the eating of the forbidden fruit?  It is their desire to define themselves apart from God.  Their action was an act of rejecting God as Father.  A child has nothing to do with age.  It has everything to do with who defines you.

            Now let’s look at the story of the rich man.  He comes to Jesus and asks, “What must I do to inherit eternal life?”  That’s contract language… What must I do to inherit eternal life.  That’s the kind of conversation you’d have at a business meeting.  He’s trying to figure out how to make a deal with God.  He treats salvation with legalism.

            You’ll remember from previous weeks that Mark wants us to know that God loves us, and God loves us abundantly and radically.  That we can depend upon.  However we can never think that love means that we can limit God, predict God or manipulate God.  You simply can’t.

            But behind this rich man’s words we discover that he wants to.  He’s followed all the rules.  Jesus says to him, “You know the commandments: ‘You shall not murder; You shall not commit adultery; You shall not steal; You shall not bear false witness’ You shall not defraud; Honor your father and mother.’”

            You can almost feel the warmth rising in his heart and the smile spreading across his face as he jubilantly says, “Teacher, I have kept all these… from my youth!”  He’s ready to walk away with that good feeling you have when you’ve done a truly good deed, and while you don’t feel smug about yourself, you feel happy and content.  This guy’s got it.  He works hard.  He’s a good guy.  People like him for his virtues.  And now he knows God will reward him for his goodness.

            And then Jesus keeps talking, “You lack one thing; go, sell what you own, and give the money to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; then come, follow me.”

            The man is crushed.  His whole life of virtue has just been pulled out from under his feet.  We learn that he has many possessions.  He is probably a generous guy.  He knows the pleasure of helping out someone less fortunate.

            He can’t bear the shame of being needy himself and being on the receiving end of charity.

            His possessions and money give him status.  They give him safety.  If there’s suddenly a famine or economic catastrophe, that’s okay.  He can pull some from savings and weather the trouble.

            He loses that earthly safety if he sells it all and follows Jesus.

            He can walk down the street with his head held erect.  He’s a solid dependable person.  People know him.  He’s respected.  He’s responsible.  People turn to him for advice about how to be successful because he is a model of success.

            Giving it all up and following Jesus is going to mean that people are going to look down on him.  They’ll think he had a nervous breakdown or became a religious freak.  People will whisper behind his back.  He’ll go from the model of success that he is to falling to the bottom of society.

            He walks away grieving because he can’t do it.

            Subconsciously he wants eternal life on his terms, which are the terms of earthly honor and status.  He wants to be a good guy as he and others define a good guy, not how God really thinks.

            The disciples are just as shocked as this man is.  They say to one another, “Then who can be saved?”  In their opinion rich people were rich people because God liked them.  Poor people were poor people because God didn’t like them.

            Perhaps that’s too cut and dried.  They certainly had the idea that God loved the poor and the orphan and the widow.  They knew God would be with those who suffer innocently.  That was part of their Jewish faith.  But they had the same subtle belief that still exists today.  Good, hard working, clean cut people are to be emulated.  They’ve got it together.  People like them.  Therefore God must like them too.

            That doesn’t mean that God can’t love dirty, drug-addicted, lazy people, but they are more of a burden to society, so of what value are they?  If they want to be noticed and worthwhile then they’ve got to get their act together.

            From the disciples perspective, if even the good, clean cut hard working people can’t enter the kingdom of God, then who can?

            Jesus says the key thing, and it is impossible to overstate its importance.  “For mortals it is impossible.”

            Can you get to heaven?  Can you have eternal life?  I have bad news for you.  You can’t do it.  It’s impossible.  You’re helpless.  You’re powerless.  You’re trapped.  You’re lost.  If you hope in yourself or your possessions or your goodness or your reputation you’re hoping in vain.

            Jesus goes on, “For mortals it is impossible, but not for God; for God all things are possible.”  When it comes to salvation or eternal life or going to heaven we’re all hoping for the impossible.  Because that’s the only hope we have.

            Notice Jesus said to the disciples, “Children, how hard it is to enter the kingdom of God!”  He calls them children.  And we go back to the previous scene where Jesus says, “Whoever does not receive the kingdom of God as a child will never enter it.”

            To be a child is to be subject to the pater familias, be subject to the Father.  The Father alone gives us worth.  The Father alone gives us safety.  The Father alone gives us an inheritance.  It is the Father’s power alone that can save us.  Returning to Pheme Perkins thoughts again, she says we are radically dependent upon God’s grace.  We cannot set the conditions for entering the kingdom.

            The rich man wanted power and order in his salvation.  He wasn’t willing to become needy.  He wasn’t willing to become a child again.  He wanted to be the pater familias, not be radically dependent on God.

            It is a challenge for us who are often so successful at being successful.  We know how to look to ourselves to meet our needs.  We can provide for our own food and shelter and comfort and entertainment.  We feel that our reputations rest in our own hands, in our own efforts.  It is difficult to imagine giving all that up.  And it is just as difficult to imagine being a child that is needy and dependent.  It is difficult to imagine being a beggar before God just like every other person, but it is true.

            It is not all bad news.  In fact there is quite good news.  Jesus promises abundance for those who do come to trust in God: needs being met, friendships, acceptance and worth.  These are all part of God’s kingdom on earth.  So may we be able to trust God.  We have to.  It is our only hope for the impossible.  And blessings will come with it too. 

February 18, 2018 Lent 1 Mark 9:14-10:12

The passage from Mark has a lot to challenge us and maybe even frighten us.  These are not the kind of teachings we like to have from Jesus.  All too often I think people imagine Jesus as this all around nice guy who never really says anything mean.  But today we read him giving a blanket condemnation of divorce and remarriage.  He talks about cutting off limbs and plucking out eyes.  He has these strange teachings about salt losing its saltiness – that is chemically impossible.  And there is the scene where Jesus is mad because the disciples couldn’t cure the epileptic boy.  He tells them, “You faithless generation, how much longer must I be among you?  How much longer must I put up with you?”  (Mark 9:19) 

You may remember me mentioning when we started Mark’s gospel that this writing will pull the rug out from under your feet time and time again.  Every time you think you understand and you think you have Jesus figured out Mark will upend your understanding.  I think that is part of his point.  He wants us to know that God is deeply loving, and that God is very generous, and that God’s cares for all people.  But we cannot think that because this is God’s nature that we can figure God out or control God or even intellectually understand what God is up to.  Instead, we are called to trust, and trust God more deeply than our brains can comprehend.

Let’s look at some of these scenes in reverse order.  Some Pharisees attempt to trap Jesus by asking him about divorce.  It’s an entrapping question because there’s no way out.  If he says no then he has gone against Deuteronomy 24:1 which says that a man may divorce his wife for any reason.  The exact wording is, “…she does not please him because he finds something objectionable about her…”  That’s it – grounds for divorce were simply failing to please a man.  You may remember me joking that a man could divorce his wife on the grounds that he doesn’t like her meatloaf! 

On the other hand, if Jesus says yes a man can divorce his wife then he’d get into trouble with the powerful Essene community, a large Jewish sect that forbade divorce under any circumstances.

Jesus’ answer rightfully turns the question on its head.  Marriage is based on God’s order of creation, not about rules and regulations.  Jesus’ private teachings to his disciples about remarriage being adultery are also rooted in God’s order of creation, not rules and regulations.  His teachings acknowledge the emotional feelings of betrayal, hurt, and shame that any emotionally healthy person feels at the break down of an intimate relationship and the beginning of another.

Notice Jesus does not say people who remarry will burn in hell forever.  He simply roots the situation in God’s order of creation and names the pains that go with it.

The scene prior to that talks about dismembering yourself if part of you causes you to sin.  Fortunately I see you have not followed that advice or I’d be talking to a bunch of blind people without arms and legs.  I’d be like that too.  Remember, Jesus often uses exaggerated language in his teachings.  And here he is picking up on an ancient Greek teaching, “Cast away every part of the body which leads you to intemperance; for it is better to live temperately without it, than to live whole.”  (Sextus Sentences 13)

It reminds us of the seriousness of sin.  A person who takes his or her sin lightly also takes God’s grace lightly.  A person who takes his or her sin seriously also appreciates the undeserved-favor-that-is-God’s-grace as a wonderful gift.  Again, can you see that this is rooted in creation and right relationship with God.

Going back another scene we have the disciple John wanting to stop who’s doing good work in Jesus’ name.  John is acting like Jesus’ name is proprietary and this other guy hasn’t paid the licensing fee.  Once again we see how human logic wants to put limits on God.  The same can be said for the scene previous to that where the disciples are arguing over who was the greatest.  This is a human tendency to always want to rank and measure ourselves against other people.  We want to feel like we are better than them, and we certainly don’t like being beneath others.  But this is all thinking from the human point of view.  It is not God’s way.  As I said before, Mark’s gospel will always witness to the abundance of God’s love, but never let us think we have control over it, or that we can limit it, or predict it.

And I think that leads us to the very first scene we read from the gospel.  The disciples are unable to cast a demon out of a boy.  Based on his symptoms we can conclude he has epilepsy.  The whole scene is filled with anger and chaos.  There’s a crowd, there are religious experts, there are the disciples, there’s this father, and his boy who he wants to have cured.  Jesus enters the scene as well and he seems angry at everyone, calling them a faithless generation.  Then the boy has a seizure right then and there and Jesus forcefully drives it out.

In the midst of all the chaos the boy’s father says something that has become famous.  “I believe; help my unbelief!”  What a strange thing to say!  But it is an authentic and deeply revealing truth.  I think we all have felt just like that man.  We want to believe.  We need to believe.  But it just seems so impossible and we want to have solid assurance right then and there.  The boy and his father are fortunate that they get it from Jesus.

The final word on this scene is an interesting one.  The disciples ask Jesus why they could do nothing.  He replies, “This kind can come out only through prayer.”

I think Jesus’ word on prayer and the father’s words that he believes but help his unbelief go hand in hand.

Prayer is definitely powerful, but many people treat it like a magical formula:  It is as if God was a divine magician who is available with miraculous powers if and only if you call upon God correctly.  You have to say the right words and say them in the right way and be thinking the right thoughts and if and only if you do, then God will act.

But what have we been talking about Mark’s gospel?  God is guaranteed to be loving, but is God able to be predicted, controlled or understood?  No.  Never.  Prayer is not a human being’s ability to dictate to God what God should do.  Prayer is a conversation of trust between God and people.

I suppose we could ask the question, do we trust in the power of prayer, or do we trust in the one to whom we pray?  If you say you trust in the power of prayer I’d suggest that is coming from a human point of view.  It is as if prayer in and of itself has power.  But if you trust in the one to whom you pray then you are trusting in God.

When Jesus says this kind only can come out by prayer he is not suggesting that with the correct prayer technique the demon, or the epilepsy could be cured.  He is saying that God should be trusted to have the power to cure.

The cure then, is God’s, not ours.

Now don’t get me wrong in what I say about prayer.  Many a hurting and angry Christian has swallowed their hurt and anger and prayed to God, “This is what I want, but thy will be done and I’ll be okay with whatever it is.”  That is a commendable thought, but is it a true prayer?

When you’re scared or hurting or angry then is not the time to pray prim and proper prayers.  A prim and proper prayer with fear and anger subdued within yourself is a very weak prayer indeed.  Martin Luther taught to let it out.  If you’re scared let God know it.  If you’re angry let God know it, even if you’re angry at God!  And if you’re hurting let God know it.

God knows what you’re trying to hide in your mind.  True prayer, powerful prayer, is when you are bluntly honest and truthful with God.  Then is when you trust not in the power of your prayer but the power of the one to whom you pray.  Then you are bold to trust that God’s love has a hold of you and won’t let go.

All of today’s gospel reading is about not legislating how God should act, but knowing with surety that God will act with love.  It’s easier said than done.  The disciples messed up plenty, and we do too.  But God’s love always gets the final word, and in that we rest our hope.

February 11 2018 Transfiguration Sunday

Like many things in Mark’s gospel, the transfiguration brings in many layers of meaning.  For many years biblical scholars thought Mark’s gospel was a history of Jesus’ ministry written by a well-intended, but simple-minded author.  Not so.  The same goes for the disciples as they’re portrayed in Mark’s gospel.  They seem like a bunch of loveable, but bumbling idiots at one level – as if instead of Jesus choosing twelve apostles, he chose twelve stooges.  But when you look at them more you see a lot of yourself – a well-meaning, but struggling person; wanting and meaning to be a faith-filled disciple, but feeling like you fall short all too often.  And even if you don’t want to admit it in your mind, I think most people have a sense of frustration.  If God only gave a sign, or some proof, or created some sort of supernatural source of belief inside them, then they could be good disciples.  Think about what we’ve learned so far from Mark’s gospel about both the disciples and the Pharisees.  They’re really asking Jesus for the same thing.

But faith is different.  People want faith to be a business transaction or a contract.  Each party in the contract has a clear list of privileges and responsibilities; rewards and consequences are clearly spelled out.

I’m reminded of the joke about the wealthy businessman who had a reputation for being mean and abusive to his employees, his children and his wife.  He was notorious for lying and being deceitful.  His wife was a kindhearted loving woman who always prayed for her husband.  The man suddenly became very sick and doctors told him he would die, so he better quickly get his affairs in order.  He asked for his wife’s pastor to come and visit him.

The pastor arrived and the man said, “I know you are an honest man, trustworthy and you will not lie to me.  I have been a bad person all my life.  I’ve lied.  I’ve hurt lots of people.  I’ve manipulated and exploited things.  So I have a question for you.  If I gave everything I own – everything: all my money, my cars, my house, my business – everything over to the church right now, will I go to heaven?  Tell me the truth.  I know you’re an honest man.”

The pastor paused for a few seconds contemplating his answer and said, “Well, it’s worth a try.”

Silly, but people want faith to be a give and take mechanism.  It’s a relationship, which is unique in each person’s experience, and it’s layered and complicated. 

We see some layers and complications in the transfiguration.  You may remember me preaching this before, but from one point of view, Peter’s offer to build three dwellings on top of the mountain – one each for Jesus, Moses, and Elijah is absolutely silly.  I imagine a delivery truck from Home Depot struggling its way up a steep mountain road delivering lumber and roofing materials!  But from a different point of view, Peter’s offer is commendable.  The three dwellings Peter offers to make are tents, or booths.  Peter is offering to do set up work for a Festival of the Booths.  This was a late-season harvest festival.  It commemorated the years the people of Israel spent wandering in the wilderness under Moses.  And in Peter’s day the festival had come to mean the end of time.  It was believed that at the end of time there would be a great Festival of the Booths.

So Peter sees Moses and Elijah and Jesus and thinks the end has come.  He has willingly offered his services to them.  Notice he does not offer to build four or six dwellings.  That would then include a place for himself and James and John.  If he had offered that we could reasonably conclude that Peter wants the event to go on and on and he will then live up there with these three great guys.  But no, Peter’s offer is genuine.  It is well thought out.  It is commendable.  And it is totally wrong.

If you were here last week you may remember talking about two levels of sight, as we saw it took Jesus two attempts to cure the blind man.  We talked about how there seems to be two levels of sight in the disciples too.  They seem to be able to see Jesus as the Messiah – which was the image of glory and triumph and power.  And then there is the second level of sight which was seeing Jesus as the Son of God.  In Mark’s gospel Son of God –or Son of Man- is always a reference to Jesus as the crucified one.  It has to do with suffering, loss and death.  The disciples do not have this level of sight.  At least they don’t have it yet.  They will get it after the crucifixion.

So Peter’s offer is commendable from the point of view of this first level of sight.  He is offering the glorious and triumphant Messiah he sees standing in front of him with Moses and Elijah his services.

But what does the voice from the cloud say?  Does is say, “This is my Messiah”?  No, it says, “This is my Son, the Beloved…”  So we have both – Jesus as the glorious Messiah shining and bright white; and Jesus as the Son of God, the suffering crucified one.  I think we are to understand both from the Transfiguration.

What are we to do with this contradiction?  What does it mean for our lives? 

Mark’s original readers knew what it meant to be persecuted for their faith.  They were suffering for what they believed.  When you’re suffering for something it is easy to question the validity of it.  Would you stick with a financial advisor if every time you followed that person’s advice your investments lost money?  And why would you invest your life in believing something that was only going to cost you?  Like St. Paul writes, “If for this life only we have hoped in Christ we are of all people most to be pitied.”  (1 Corinthians 15:19)

Mark’s original hearers needed to know that persecution and suffering were going to be part and parcel of faith.  But, it was worth it.  Because, again as St. Paul continues, the promise of the resurrection was coming.  That would be joy and glory.

And yet, Christian faith is not intended to be a strategy for suffering now in order to be rewarded later.  That would be back to being a simple business transaction – you’re doing what you think God wants so that God rewards you in the end.

As we look at this for our own lives, let’s always keep in mind something greater.  This message appears to be infused in every word of Mark’s gospel.  Following Christ does have rewards now.  They are not the rewards of being blessed by God and having an easy luxurious life.  They are the rewards of working hard and doing something worthwhile, even if that worthwhile doesn’t bring you glory.

Maybe I’m an oddball in this, but I don’t think so.  At the end of the day I sleep better when I’ve done an honest day’s work; when I feel like I’ve made a meaningful contribution to the world around me; when I haven’t knowingly defrauded anyone or exploited anyone.  Of course hard work is not the same as suffering, and hard work does not equate to being a faithful Christian.  But it makes a good example of investing yourself in something worthwhile.

I think you will suffer today for your faith, although that suffering will be mild compared to what Christians experienced in Mark’s day.  Standing up for justice and fairness will cost you socially.  Christian faith is not always welcome in the workplace, especially when Christian faith does not go along with questionable practices.  And there is the whole cultural arrogance that suggests atheism is the only thing a truly rational person would accept as truth.  People of faith are ignorant weaklings who use their faith as a crutch.  We know this is not true, but it doesn’t really matter.

And perhaps this isn’t suffering at all, but it certainly isn’t glorious.  In the 1980’s theologian Fred Craddock wrote, “We think of give our all to the Lord is like taking $1000 bill and leaving it on the table – ‘Here’s my life, Lord, I’m giving it all.’  But the reality for most of us is that he sends us to the bank and has us exchange the $1000 for quarters.  We go through life putting out 25 cents here and 50 cents there…   Usually giving our life to Christ isn’t glorious.  It’s done in all those little acts of love, 25 cents at a time.”  (Leadership (Fall 1984) 47)