Sermon for Sunday, October 10

Day of the Church Year: 20th Sunday after Pentecost

Scripture Passage: Mark 10:17-31

Jesus loves the rich man.  The gospel writer Mark tells us so.  Jesus does not condemn him.  He does not blame him.  Jesus does not condemn the rich man for being rich.  Jesus does not blame the rich man for any reason.  Jesus loves the rich man.  Of course he does.  When the rich man asks Jesus what he must do to inherit eternal life, Jesus speaks not in moral terms but in practical ones.  Jesus tells him to sell what he owns and give the money to the poor and then to come, follow him.  The rich man is shocked and grieves.  The rich man grieves even though he is looking for life, and here, Jesus describes a way of living that brings life, even eternal life.  But the rich man doesn’t want to hear that way.  He wants a different way, perhaps an easier way. 

Generations of Jesus-followers have also looked for a different way.  We have assumed that Jesus does not mean what he says.  We assume this is one of the places where Jesus is speaking in hyperbole or parable.  Later, when Jesus says: “It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for someone who is rich to enter the kingdom of God,” he indeed speaks in hyperbole.  But not when he invites the rich man to sell what he owns, give the money to the poor, and come, follow him.  Still, we wonder: does Jesus really mean it—for the rich man to sell what he owns and give the money to the poor? 

Generations of biblical scholars have tried to find the loopholes in this episode, the mis-translations of the Greek, the cultural aspects of this passage we don’t understand.  Some nonsense about a gate that “explains” how a camel can go through the eye of a needle; it’s an interpretation of the passage based on both the Greek and anthropological study.  Questioning: does the Greek indicate the man is to sell all he owns or just some of what he owns?

We Jesus-followers and biblical scholars, we don’t want the complete giving away of our resources to be the way of eternal life.  We want a different way.  There are some Jesus followers who very intentionally give up everything, live in community with shared resources, and follow Jesus, people like Dorothy Day and Mother Teresa and even Shane Claiborne who founded The Simple Way and has lived in community for the past 15 years in Philadelphia.  People do this but not a lot of people, and most of us are pretty sure we don’t want to join them.  But does this mean we don’t inherit eternal life? 

In today’s Jesus story, Jesus and the disciples discuss both eternal life and the kingdom of God which seem, from this passage, to be roughly equivalent to one another.  In the beginning of the gospel of Mark, Jesus declares that the kingdom of God has come near when Jesus breaks on the scene, and Jesus continues to speak of the kingdom’s in-breaking throughout the gospel.  Jesus’ declaration of the kingdom-come right then and there seems to indicate that the kingdom of God coming is not the same thing as an afterlife.  Instead, the kingdom seems to show up wherever Jesus—and thus, God—is present.  Only in the gospel of John does the phrase “eternal life” appear in anything but this particular story.  Meaning, there is a story equivalent to today’s Mark story in both Matthew and Luke, but this one story is the only place the words “eternal life” appear in Matthew, Mark, and Luke.  In John, Jesus speaks many times of eternal life, and in John, eternal life is not relegated to afterlife but starts now in our relationship with God and continues forever.  If all of that biblical mumbo-jumbo didn’t make sense, I’ll just say this: I wonder if Jesus is talking about afterlife here. I’m not sure. I wonder if Jesus hears the rich man ask: What must I do to live in relationship with you?  And Jesus responds: Let go of everything that gets in the way of you following me.  And for the rich man, it is his riches. 

What gets in your way of following Jesus?

Jesus invites us to let go of whatever that is.

It might be our riches.  Most of us are not so different than the rich man, especially when we consider our socio-economic place on a global scale.  Maybe Jesus’ invitation is one of monetary generosity or a simpler lifestyle.  Our fear of social ridicule may stop us from following Jesus; I, for one, definitely avoid answering the question: What do you do? Based on where I am and who asks me. We might fear change in our lives; maybe we’re comfortable the way life is and don’t want our boats rocked.  We might just be doing other things besides following Jesus and don’t feel like we have the time to serve others, to live in community, to love people even if they may never love us back.  I invite you to ask yourself what keeps you from following Jesus and to consider, actually, letting go of whatever it is. 

The good news about giving up whatever gets in our way of following is that, when we do follow, we are not left destitute.  We get our lives back.  But our lives come back different.  They’re better.  Peter hears Jesus’ teaching and cries out: “Look, we have left everything and followed you.”  And Jesus responds that all who follow him receive all they’ve given up back a hundredfold—and with persecutions, he adds.  We get a life of love and joy back a hundredfold—with persecutions because, of course, this radical Jesus-following life will always confound some.  But when we give up what gets in our way, we receive back life, life abundant.  Jesus issues the invitation to give up whatever stops us from following him because he, quite simply, loves us.  Thanks be to God!  Amen.

Sermon for Sunday, September 26

Day of the Church Year: 18th Sunday after Pentecost

Scripture Passage: Mark 9:38-50

You may remember that, last October, I stumbled and fell while running.   I limped home, and after I cleaned and bandaged my knees, I faced the reality that I couldn’t actually walk very well.  More accurately, I couldn’t easily bend my knees.  So, I struggled up the one step from the welcome mat on my front patio to inside my home, certainly couldn’t walk up the stairs to the sanctuary, and could hardly get up and off the couch the first few days.  I actually stumbled on a Sunday morning, so this generous community understood when I had to livestream my sermon from home and cancel that morning’s Walk-Up Holy Communion.  My stumble impacted all of us, not just me. 

In today’s Jesus story, Jesus warns the disciples: If any of you put a stumbling block before one of these little ones who believe in me, it would be better for you if a great millstone were hung around your neck and you were thrown into the sea.  He then goes on to describe, with dramatic hyperbole, severe recommendations for those whose hands, feet, or eyes cause them to stumble.  Cut off your hand.  Cut off the offending foot.  Tear out your eye.  For it is better to enter life lame than to go to hell, Jesus says.  Lutheran preachers all over the world today are saying: Heavens.  Really, Jesus?  I want you to know that Jesus truly does speak in metaphor and hyperbole here.  For instance, the word that is translated “hell” in this passage is actually the name of a valley south of Jerusalem where people dumped their garbage.  Over time, this valley became so despised and was considered so disgusting that ancient people referred to this valley, to this dump as hell.  In other words, Jesus encourages his disciples to rid themselves of toxic elements so that their whole bodies would not end up in the garbage heap, perhaps like cheese that has grown moldy on one side.  Instead of throwing the whole, lovely chunk of cheese into the garbage, we can instead cut off simply the moldy parts and enjoy the rest.  

We might read this passage casually and assume that Jesus advocates a moral standard that is well familiar to us.  You do something wrong, and you get punished.  Because it’s the Bible, we might assume the punishment is eternal, not just temporal.  But I invite us into a more complex reading of this Jesus story. 

Jesus begins his teaching by discouraging the disciples from putting a stumbling block before a vulnerable follower of Jesus.  But instead of describing intentional acts of sabotage of others, Jesus speaks of activities that cause us to stumble, that cause us harm for he recommends: “If your hand causes you to stumble, cut it off.”  Jesus speaks not of someone else’s hand, not of someone else’s sins but our own, mistakes and mis-steps that impact us.  While these stumbling blocks make our lives difficult, they also create stumbling blocks for others.  Because what we do in the world creates a ripple, like a stone thrown into a lake.  The stone enters the lake at one particular place, but the ripple in the water extends far beyond.  Imagine someone—and it’s probably not too hard—who has trouble identifying and processing their emotions, someone who is easily provoked by someone else’s mindless comments, someone who is having a bad day and doesn’t have anyone to talk to about it.  And then imagine that person getting behind the wheel of a car.  Sure, that person who is struggling with their emotions is angry and also hurt and maybe sad, maybe overwhelmed, maybe exhausted.  But when they get behind the wheel of a car, they drive in ways that impact not just them but everyone else on the road.

If we tend to our own health and wholeness, to our own growth and development and thereby let go of whatever is toxic within us, that affects others in positive ways.  If we neglect our own health and wholeness, if we neglect our own growth and development and allow toxicity to grow within us, that also affects others.  It creates stumbling blocks that may have real and sometimes serious consequences.     

In many ways, Jesus’ teaching is refreshing for aren’t we all wondering these days: What can I do to make a difference in this upsidedown world?  According to Jesus, our lives make a difference regardless of what we do; what is up for grabs is what kind of difference: a life-giving difference or a stumbling block-creating difference. 

Living in community is not a choice.  Whether that community is Grace or our workplace, our school or our neighborhood, our nation or our world, what we do impacts our community. What we do affects others, either in life-giving or stumbling block-creating ways.  What we do affects others, whether or not we intend it.  There are few private choices, friends, but instead mostly public ones with public consequences...or at least, that’s the way Jesus seems to see the world.  Throughout the gospels, Jesus rejects narrow moralism and instead commands the disciples and us to seek the common good—to seek what is good for the neighbor, the stranger, the world.  And wouldn’t you know, what is good for the neighbor, the stranger, and the world is good for us too.

Jesus loves the neighbor, the stranger, the world.  Jesus loves us.  The command to cut off the toxic parts of ourselves is not a command coming from a fierce God but from a wise and gentle savior who sees how we struggle and wants to free us from all that would make us and others stumble.  For this wise and radical love, we can say: Thanks be to God!  Amen.

Sermon for Sunday, September 19

Day of the Church Year: 17th Sunday after Pentecost

Scripture Passage: Mark 9:30-37

I invite you to open your Bibles to Mark 8.

Once again today, Jesus teaches the disciples what it means for him to be the messiah: that he will be betrayed, die, and rise again. Even though he teaches this lesson three times in the gospel of Mark, the disciples never understand. If you flip to Mark 8:31-38, you’ll recognize last week’s gospel. What’s the first thing Peter does after hearing about Jesus’ upcoming death and resurrection? Rebukes him because he doesn’t want Jesus to die. In today’s gospel, if you flip to Mark 9:30-37, what’s the first thing the disciples do after hearing about Jesus’ death and resurrection? They argue about who is the greatest. If we look forward to Mark 10:32-40 where Jesus again teaches them about his upcoming death and resurrection, what are James and John’s first words? Teacher, we want you to do for us whatever we ask of you. And what do they want him to do for them? They want to sit one at his right and one at his left in his glory.

The disciples, fundamentally, do not understand the nature of Jesus’ reign as messiah. They’re consumed with power and glory and avoiding pain, but Jesus walks right into betrayal and suffering and death and each time speaks about humility and service. Humility and service as the essence of Jesus’ reign, humility and service as the way Jesus exercises his power. Amusingly, in today’s gospel, the disciples argue about who is the greatest. Is that up for debate? Isn’t Jesus the greatest? I wonder what criteria they are using to discern who the greatest is, such that they fail to see Jesus’ greatness. And I wonder what criteria we use to determine who the greatest is in our culture. What are your thoughts? How do we determine who the greatest is? In both worship services, we discussed how the world defines greatness through wealth and material possessions, prestige and popularity.

Jesus ends the disciples’ argument about greatness by embracing a child and telling them: Whoever welcomes one such child in my name welcomes me. The call here, to be clear, is not that the disciples become like children but that they welcome children. Contrary to our own cultural norms, in the ancient world, children lived with the least status of any group of people. While the disciples are wondering who the greatest is, Jesus embraces a child who, in their eyes, is least and littlest and most vulnerable, and says: the greatest one among you will embrace this one. The greatest one among you will, in this honor / shame culture, accept the shame that will be brought onto you by embracing this child. The greatest one among you doesn’t care about your status at all. For whoever wants to be first must be last of all and servant of all.

Greatness is about power, and so, Jesus upends the nature of power. When he tells the disciples that he will be betrayed, die, and rise again, he’s teaching them about his power. When he allows the Syro-Phoenician woman to challenge his prejudice, he’s showing the disciples what power looks like—like admitting when you’re wrong. When he dares to put his hands in the ears of a deaf man to restore his hearing, Jesus is showing all who care to see what power looks like—like using your gifts for the sake of another’s healing. When he somehow multiplies the loaves and fish, he’s showing the crowd what power looks like—like tending the basic needs of God’s whole people.

Whoever wants to be first must be last of all and servant of all, Jesus says, like me. To the rest of the world then and now, power and service are opposites. But to Jesus, they are one in the same. He is everyone’s servant and calls the disciples and calls us to a similar way of life. It’s not simply that powerful people serve others; it’s also that those who serve all exercise great power, the power of the Holy Spirit.

For the skeptics among us who wonder: can’t humility and this service business get out of hand? I suppose. But to be humble does not mean denying our own gifts and skills and beauty. And I don’t think Jesus means we are to lack boundaries. Even Jesus escaped the crowd to pray and delegated responsibility to the disciples to do his ministry. We cannot and, in my view, should not do everything everyone asks of us. Sometimes, people ask us to do things that are not in the interest of the common good, not aligned with the mission of the church or our workplace, not consistent with our own sense of integrity. There are very real ethical trade-offs with nearly every decision we make. Still, the posture of humility is critical to understanding Jesus’ reign as messiah and our call to follow Jesus. If we have in our heads a ladder of power and greatness and see ourselves on a higher rung than others and if we thus ignore certain people and issues of justice in our world, like the disciples, we have not understood the nature of Jesus’ reign as messiah.

The good news of a messiah who comes as servant of all is that we get served. We get loved. We get forgiven and seen and accepted just as we are. Whether or not we exercise power through service, Jesus still serves and loves us—because that’s what true power looks like. Thanks be to God! Amen.