Wednesday, November 14, 2018

Gather with All that You Are


25th Sunday after Pentecost
November 11, 2018
Ruth 1:8-18; Mark 12:38-44


            We’re going to begin with a little word association. What do you think of when you hear the word ‘offering’? I imagine it might depend on your context. If you’re heavily involved in the world of finance, your first association might be an “IPO,” or initial public offering, when a private company decides to offer its stock to the public for the first time. Or, you might be a bargain hunter or someone who likes to make a deal and so it depends on what the other person is offering as to whether you’ll accept it or not. Two railroad properties in exchange for Boardwalk when you’re playing Monopoly? Mmm, probably depends on whether it gives either player a monopoly as to whether that’s an offer to accept. Here in church, we know offering has to do with putting money in the plate when it’s passed around. In first century Jerusalem at the temple, Jews didn’t take up an offering during the service. Instead, in the courtyard outside the temple were a series of collection boxes.  Each box was for a particular purpose, such as to buy wine or oil for the sacrifices, or to contribute to the regular operating expenses of the temple.[1] You could make your offering any time you passed by the temple, not just one day a week.
            In our Gospel reading this morning, Jesus and the disciples have not only made it to Jerusalem, they are in this courtyard area around the temple. Jesus is teaching, like he does, and then then he goes and sits down in a spot where he can watch people put money into those collection boxes, into the temple treasury. Some people put in significant contributions. Then comes a widow who puts in two small coins that together were worth one-eighth of a penny.[2] Jesus comments to the disciples, “That poor widow put in more than all of the rest. They contributed out of their abundance, but she out of her poverty put in everything she had, all she had to live on.” There is a difference between giving your leftovers and giving sacrificially. There is a difference between giving as opportunity arises and planned giving. Some gave out of their abundance, which means it didn’t really cost them anything to give their offering. They wouldn’t notice it when they balanced their checkbook. The widow gave a small offering financially-speaking, but a huge offering in terms of her personal finances. She gave her life.  
            What’s interesting is what comes just before this example of giving. Jesus was teaching in the temple courtyard before he sat down to observe, and he issues warnings against the teachers of Judaic law. First, he says they walk around in long flowing robes, which is because that’s all you can do in long flowing robes. You can’t work in them. You can’t hurry in them. These are clothes for people of leisure; they are not practical everyday clothes. Second, the legal experts like to be greeted with respect in the marketplaces. Again, this doesn’t seem like a big problem, everyone wants to be greeted with respect. Except they’re not just after respect, like Mr. and Mrs., they want to be greeted deferentially and with honor. They like fancy greetings that appeal to their vanity, you know, “Good morning O most holy and exceptional teacher,” or something like that. These teachers also wanted the most important seats in the synagogues, which then were in the front row, in full view of the congregation so that everyone knew they were there. “See how religious and righteous I am? I’m up here in the front seat hanging on to the minister’s every word.” We seem to have overcome that problem in churches these days! The fourth criticism Jesus levies on the law experts is how they want the places of honor at banquets. He’s already addressed that in Luke 14, with the instructions that “When someone invites you to a wedding feast, do not take the place of honor, for a person more distinguished than you may have been invited. If so, the host who invited both of you will come and say to you, ‘Give this person your seat.’ Then, humiliated, you will have to take the least important place. But when you are invited, take the lowest place, so that when your host comes, he will say to you, ‘Friend, move up to a better place.’ Then you will be honored in the presence of all the other guests. For all those who exalt themselves will be humbled, and those who humble themselves will be exalted.”[3] In case you hadn’t noticed, these legal experts are all about some self-promotion and exalting themselves. The next problem is the curious phrase that “they devour widows’ houses.” Law experts were supposed to teach for free and earn a living with a trade and using their hands. The problem was that these legal experts had managed to talk people into believing that there was no higher duty and privilege than to support them in comfort.[4] It reminds me of the criticism leveled against the new cathedral in Managua, Nicaragua. There was a major earthquake in Managua in 1972 that leveled 90% of the city.[5] Among the ruins is the old cathedral, which was deemed unrestoreable. Nicaragua is the second poorest country in the Western hemisphere. The new cathedral cost around $4.5 million. I met many Nicaraguans, both Catholics and non-Catholics, who thought that money could have been better spent. Finally, these teachers of the law make notoriously long prayers so everyone can hear how tight they are with God. These legal experts make it all about themselves, draw attention to themselves, and want special privileges and honors. It’s all about what they can get, not about what they can give.
            In contrast, Jesus comments to the disciples on this poor widow, who gives all she can to the temple. There are a few interesting things here. First of which is that she gives to a flawed and doomed institution. Only two verses later, Jesus says, “Do you see all these great temple buildings? Not one stone here will be left on another; every one will be thrown down.”[6] The widow didn’t stop and evaluate whether she was giving to a worthy cause, whether her contribution would be used wisely or whether it’ll be used to build a multimillion dollar facility in the midst of poverty. The temple was not worthy of her gift. She gave “her whole life to something that is condemned and corrupt.”[7] This is the last scene in Jesus’ public ministry in Mark’s Gospel. Jesus is on his way to give his whole life for something that is corrupt and condemned – all of humanity, the whole world,” us.[8]  And isn’t that a good thing? Jesus gives his whole life for something not worthy of the gift. He gave his life for a broken and fallen world, one lately filled with gun violence, and acts of hatred. In Romans 5, Paul wrote, “You see, at just the right time, when we were still powerless, Christ died for the ungodly. Very rarely will anyone die for a righteous person, though for a good person someone might possibly dare to die. But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us.”[9] We didn’t deserve the gift of Christ’s life laid down for us. The temple didn’t deserve the widow’s gift of her life. The “call of Christ to the church is to give the whole of its life for the sake of those who do not deserve such a gift.”[10] The worthiness of the recipient isn’t the point. It’s the offering that counts.
            The second international mission trip I went on was in college and we went to Mexico. After a couple days there, I started to have some doubts about why we were there and was it worth it. My first international mission trip had been to Honduras, to a much poorer area than where we were in Mexico. I talked with a classmate who had done a trip to the Dominican Republic, also a much poorer country than Mexico. We agreed that what we saw in Mexico was not as destitute as what we’d each experienced on our first mission trips. However, we decided that it was still worth it, because this community needed help, too. Who were we to determine who needed the most help? We helped where we were needed, where we were called, whether as “bad” as other places or not. The worthiness of the recipient wasn’t the point. Serving Jesus was the point.
The second aspect of the widow’s gift that I want to comment on was the costliness of it. The widow, like Jesus, laid down her life, giving all she had. We tend to get uncomfortable talking about laying down our lives, or questioning whether we could really do that. Yet it’s not any different than what those who serve in our armed forces do, or members of our law enforcement. They are prepared to lay down their lives, to make the ultimate sacrifice. This is giving your all, like Jesus. It’s giving that is costly. We read the beginning of Ruth this morning. Ruth gave up her home, her family, her people, her country, to go with her mother-in-law to her mother-in-law’s home country. It was costly for Ruth to make that decision that “where you go I will go, and where you stay I will stay. Your people will be my people and your God my God.”[11] Ruth gave her life to stay with Naomi.
At least a few of us went to more than one funeral this past week. In addition to officiating here at Ms. Mary’s, I also went to the one held for our organist’s father. Many people spoke about the impact he had had on their faith. And in the eulogy, the family wrote that “He was very generous with his love, time, and finances, not offering to the Lord that which cost him nothing.” Did you catch that? He didn’t offer to the Lord that which cost him nothing. In other words, his offerings were personally costly. He didn’t give out of his abundance, off the top, leftovers. He gave generously and sacrificially; he gave gifts that cost him. Have you ever done that? Do you do that regularly? When finances get tight, do you cut back on your offering to the church? Or do you not go out to eat as much and forego buying a new coat until next year? Do you really want to help or do you just want to make a good impression? Do you really believe your gift can make a difference?
It’s not exciting to give to the church operating expenses. It’s never guaranteed that your gift will be used well and the church is not worthy of your gift. By the same token, I hate wondering whether everyone who comes asking for help is really telling the truth about why they need help. But that doesn’t mean they don’t need help. Everyone has a story, whether they’re telling me all of it or not. Their worthiness of receiving help isn’t the point. They need help, and Jesus tells us to feed the hungry and clothe the naked and welcome the stranger. Your gift does make a difference. And I encourage you not to give out of your abundance, not give a gift that you won’t notice missing, but to give that which costs you something, to give sacrificially, to give your life. Don’t be the legal experts who are about what they can get and receive and attention on them. We’re not part of the church for what we get out of it but for what we can put into it. We’re not here for ourselves; we’re here for the next generation, we’re for those who don’t yet know Jesus and his love. We’re one of the few groups that don’t exist for themselves. We exist so that others can meet Jesus. The mission of the church is to reach the world. That’s why we give to the church. Because it is God’s chosen instrument to reach the world God so dearly loves. Imperfect, and yet so are we all. God sent his Son, anyway. God gave his best, anyway. My Grandma had a saying that went something to the effect of, “God does his best for you; you can do your best for God.” God gives his for you. Let us give our best for God.


[1] The Gospel of Mark, William Barclay, p. 316
[2] Ibid.
[3] Luke 14:8-11
[4] The Gospel of Mark, William Barclay, p. 314
[6] Mark 13:2
[7] Feasting on the Word, Year B, Volume 4, p. 287
[8] Ibid., p. 289
[9] Romans 5:6-8
[10] Feasting on the Word, Year B, Volume 4, p. 289
[11] Ruth 1:16

Tuesday, November 6, 2018

This Sermon Needs a Tissue


All Saints’ Sunday
November 4, 2018
Revelation 21:1-6a; Wisdom of Solomon 3:1-9; John 11:32-44

(video from the evening service)

Candles lit at the morning service in memory of those who went home to Jesus in the past year
            Did anyone study Latin in school? Any guesses as to what “triduum” means? The prefix “tri-” means three; “diem” is days. When there is a set of three holy days in a row, the old church referred to them as a triduum. We only have one such set left in our Protestant calendar, the triduum that happens at Easter, with Good Friday, Holy Saturday, and Easter Sunday. There used to be more triduums that were observed in the church, including one that happened this past week. What we now celebrate as Halloween on October 31 and All Saints’ Day on the first Sunday in November used to be a triduum called Allhallowtide.  “Hallow” is from an Old English word for saint. The first day, All Hallow’s Eve, was a day of preparation, and has since been shortened to Halloween, using the Scottish word “e’en,” which means “eve,” or, the day before. The second day was All Hallow’s Day, a day to remember the saints and martyrs of the church. The third day was All Souls’ Day, a day to remember all who have died. This holy triduum worked all right back in the Middle Ages, when it started. However, then the Catholic Church started filling the calendar with saint’s days, that allhallowtide became less important as saints were getting remembered year round. Then when Protestantism started, along with the belief that all of God’s people are saints, we combined All Hallows and All Souls to All Saints, which means we remember all of God’s people who have gone before. Rather than keeping it to a strict date of November 1, we moved it to the first Sunday in November.
            While my husband loves the idea that Halloween started out as a church holy day, I love having an intentional time to remember those who have gone before and that we belong to a church much larger than we can ever see, with all of God’s people who have lived and served faithfully over two millennia. The local church is a bit like Doctor Who’s TARDIS in that way, it’s a lot bigger than it looks and it extends throughout time. And that is good news. It’s why God can say that he’ll wipe away every tear from our eyes. That exact same promise is in both the Old Testament prophet Isaiah and in the last book in the New Testament, Revelation. Before this week, I had not paid as much attention to that particular promise. But then I saw it emphasized in the liturgy for this morning – our opening prayer and an idea for children’s time. The promise is that “God will wipe every tear from your eye. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain or suffering, for the old order of things has passed away.”[1] God will wipe every tear from your eye.
            The Mexican tradition of Allhallowtide is called Dia de Muertos, or the Day of the Dead. There, on October 31st, you make your altars with pictures of your relatives who have passed. On November 1st, it’s believed that the adult spirits come back to visit, and this is what’s shown in last year’s best animated movie, “Coco.” Miguel wants to play guitar so badly that he steals a guitar from a mausoleum and suddenly he can see all the visiting spirits, which usually mortals can’t see. Finally, on November 2nd, you go to the cemeteries and decorate the graves of your relatives. There was another animated movie, also loosely based on Day of the Dead, that came out in 2014, called “The Book of Life.” One of the main characters is voiced by the Mexican actor, Diego Luna.  Diego Luna lost his mother when he was only two years old, but he says that celebrating the Day of the Dead every year saved him from many years of therapy.[2] The holiday let him focus on remembering his mother rather than agonize over his loss.  The Day of the Dead is a formal version of what many of us do around the birthday or death day of a loved one who has passed.  We cook their favorite food.  We watch their favorite movies.  We tell stories about them.  It is good for us to talk about and remember those who have gone before us.  It helps us deal with our grief. It’s a healthy way to grieve. This is God wiping every tear from your eye, every tear that’s related to mourning and pain and suffering and agony. There are tears of joy, but those are a bit different from tears of sorrow and anguish. I don’t think God dries out your tear ducts. The act of someone else wiping away your tears is an act of comfort, and that’s what God offers. Not that you become any less human or more stoic, but that those who grieve will be comforted.
            And you know what else is comforting? Holding hands. We don’t often read from the Apocrypha in the Protestant church, but this passage from the Wisdom of Solomon is included in the readings for All Saints’ Day and because it’s comforting, I included it this morning. It begins by saying “The souls of the righteous are in the hand of God, and no torment will ever touch them. In the eyes of the foolish they seemed to have died, and their departure was thought to be a disaster, and their going from us to be their destruction; but they are at peace. For though in the sight of others they were punished, their hope is full of immortality.
Having been disciplined a little, they will receive great good, because God tested them and found them worthy of himself; like gold in the furnace he tried them,
and like a sacrificial burnt offering he accepted them.” God holds the souls of the righteous in his hand. God holds the saints in his hand. It’s like that promise and reassurance from Isaiah, “Do not fear, for I am with you, do not be afraid, for I am your God; I will strengthen you, I will help you, I will uphold you with my victorious right hand.”[3] God holds us in his hands. It’s like the kids’ song, “He’s got the whole world in his hands.” “He’s got you and me, brother, in his hands. He’s got you and me sister, in his hands. He’s got those who’ve died and gone before us, in his hands. He’s got the whole world in his hands.” Those in heaven are safely held in God’s hand.
And God will hold your soul in his hand, too. This is the lesson reinforced in our Gospel reading. Jesus is friends with this family, the sisters, Mary and Martha, and their brother, Lazarus. The sisters send word to Jesus that Lazarus has gotten very sick. They expected Jesus to come right away, but he didn’t. He took his sweet time such that by the time Jesus got to their house, Lazarus had died four days earlier. Martha very self-righteously says, “Jesus, if you’d been here my brother wouldn’t have died.” They then have a great theological conversation, which includes Jesus’ great statement, “I am the resurrection and the life. Those who believe in me, even though they die, will live, and everyone who lives and believes in me will never die.” Then they go and find Mary, who says the exact same thing as her sister, “Jesus, if you’d been here when you were supposed to be my brother wouldn’t have died.” And Jesus, who will wipe away every tear, cries with Mary. Then he asks, basically, to exhume Lazarus’ body. The ever practical Martha says something to the effect of, “Dear Jesus, you can’t be serious! Don’t you know dead bodies stink worse than skunks?” Jesus says, “Yes, I know. Trust me.” And he calls, “Lazarus, come out!” And out comes Lazarus. Mike drop.
God is more powerful even than death. This is the good news for we who trust Jesus. Not even death can separate you from God’s care. God’s always got his people safe in his hands. When Paul lists all the different things that can’t keep us from God’s love, death comes first! At the end of Romans 8, Paul writes, “For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.”[4] God is more powerful than death. In Paul’s letter to the Corinthians, he quotes from the Old Testament prophet Hosea. Through Hosea, God says, “I will deliver this people from the power of the grave; I will redeem them from death. Where, O death, are your plagues? Where, O grave, is your destruction?”[5] And the line in Isaiah just before the promise to wipe away all tears says God “will swallow up death forever.”[6] Paul combines both of those to say, “the saying that is written will come true: ‘Death has been swallowed up in victory.’ ‘Where, O death, is your victory? Where, O death, is your sting?’ The sting of death is sin, and the power of sin is the law. But thanks be to God! He gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ.”[7] Us, you, me, Ms. Mary, Ms. Virginia, Ms. Zeddie, all those saints, that great big cloud of witnesses who surrounds us. We’re not in this by ourselves. The church triumphant is with us, whether we remember that or not. Today’s a day set aside to make sure we do. We are safely held in God’s hand, too, in life and in death. Thank you Jesus!


[1] Isaiah 25:8; Revelation 21:4
[3] Isaiah 41:10
[4] Romans 8:38-39
[5] Hosea 13:14
[6] Isaiah 25:8a
[7] 1 Corinthians 15:54-57

Tuesday, October 30, 2018

Healing Vision


23rd Sunday after Pentecost
October 28, 2018
Mark 10:46-52

I’m going to assume none of you were the holder of the Mega Millions winning ticket that was bought in South Carolina. Unless, that is, we find a check in the offering for $150 million, ten percent of the winnings, because that’s the first thing you would do with it, right? Whether you’ve ever played the lottery or not, chances are good you’ve thought about what would you do with a million dollars. The Barenaked Ladies, a Canadian rock band, even sang a whole song about it: they’d buy a house, they buy a nice chesterfield or an ottoman for your house, they’d buy you some art, a Picasso or a Garfunkel, and they’d buy your love.[1] Well, instead of money, what if it’s Jesus asking you, open-ended, “What do you want me to do for you?” This is the question he asked James and John last week and it’s the same question he asks Bartimaeus in Gospel’s reading. What do you want me to do for you?
James, John, and Bartimaeus all have their answers ready for Jesus. They know what they want, and their answers are very different. The two disciples who have been traveling everywhere with Jesus want positions of power. The blind beggar on the side of the road wants to see again. It’s an interesting contrast, isn’t it? Bartimaeus is physically blind, yet it seems as if James and John were spiritually blind. They couldn’t see what Jesus was telling them and showing them while Bartimaeus could see enough to be able to say, “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!” Jesus, at the end, tells him, “Go, your faith has made you well.” Where was James’ and John’s faith? They were seeking ambition and public recognition; Bartimaeus just wanted to be able to use his eyes again. James and John were trying to avoid suffering; Bartimaeus had been suffering for a long time, and his request was “forged out of loss, exclusion and helplessness.”[2] The disciples had been traveling with Jesus and listening to his teaching and witnessing his miracles; they should have had more faith. Bartimaeus only knew of Jesus’ reputation and out of darkness and doubt, asked in faith for healing. James and John were trying to make an exclusive claim to Jesus. Bartimaeus knew he had no such claim but also knew that this man, Jesus of Nazareth, could heal him. The disciples answer was not one that came out of faith, but out of fear. Bartimaeus pushed his fear to the side, and asked out of faith. It’s an interesting comparison, isn’t it? You’d have thought the disciples’ faith was stronger, but there are so many strangers who come up to Jesus with a request for healing, and Jesus says, “Go, your faith has made you well.” It’s a little convicting for those of us in the church as well. On the one hand you’d think those of us who have been going to church for decades ought to have stronger faith than someone who has never met Jesus before. On the other hand, there’s that old saying about the church, that we are not a sanctuary for saints but we are a hospital for sinners. That’s part of why we’re here, because our faith needs encouraging, reminding, building up, strengthening, affirming. Yes, this is what we believe, come hell or high water, Jesus is the one who saves, the one who heals.
In addition to having his answer ready for Jesus, Bartimaeus is also ready to immediately follow Jesus. When Jesus calls him, he throws his cloak aside, jumps to his feet, and comes to Jesus. Bartimaeus has been waiting for this moment for his whole life and when it comes, he’s ready. He tosses his cloak to the side, he knows what he has to let go of in order to follow Jesus. He’s got to release this symbol of his old life in order to begin his new life with Jesus. This burden that’s been weighing you down has to get left behind to follow Jesus. You have to make room for Jesus in your life, and not just between your second and third rib, or giving Jesus your clogged coronary artery but you’re going to hold to the good ones. This is more like the room you save for dessert, when you’ve had a great meal and you know there’s a scrumptious dessert coming and you don’t want to be too full to eat it, you save a special place. Bartimaeus throws aside his cloak and jumps to his feet. He’s ready. And when Jesus says, “Go, your faith has healed you,” immediately Bartimaeus receives his sight and follows Jesus along the road. Remember, Jesus is still on the way to Jerusalem. Here in Jericho, he’s about 15 miles away. Jesus is still on the move. Two weeks ago we read about the rich young man and talked about hold-outs. When you travel with Jesus, you don’t always know where you’re going to sleep at night or where your next meal is going to come from. The rich young man couldn’t let go of his hold-outs to follow Jesus. Bartimaeus doesn’t just get rid of his, he tosses them aside. They were part of his old life, but now he’s following Jesus. He’s all in.
Finally, a word about what Bartimaeus asked for: sight, vision. He wants to see, he wants some clarity and focus. There is a proverb that we know best in the King James version, which says, “Where there is no vision, the people perish.”[3] The version that’s in your pew says, “Where there is no revelation, people cast off restraint.”[4] A newer paraphrase says, “If people can’t see what God is doing, they stumble all over themselves.”[5] Are you getting the idea? When there’s no vision, and sight, and clarity about what God’s doing and what God’s inviting us to do, then we run wild, we stumble, we do as we please, and we often make a mess, we often screw something up, not on purpose, but our good intentions aren’t always enough. We need to know, we need to see God at work and God’s purpose for us. Otherwise, we perish. We’re rudderless. We’re spinning in circles, or going off on detours or shortcuts or just plain a different path than the one God intended for us. Bartimaeus was a beggar on the side of the road. He wasn’t going anywhere. He didn’t have a purpose, other than to get enough food to survive one more day. And survival is all he was doing. But now with his sight, he can live. I know there are times and seasons where survival is all you can do. Going through a major traumatic experience. Life-changing events. Completely overwhelming situations. Where you’re just trying to survive. Not even looking at tomorrow, because you’re not even sure what the next hour is going to look like. Churches go through times like that, too. But God willing, it’s only for a season. And then you get to move on. Then you get to enter the next season and that season is called life. You get to live and not just survive. Moreover, Jesus doesn’t just want any old life, he came that we might have abundant life.
So, as a church, so that we’re not feeling rudderless, what is our vision as Lisbon Church? First of all, one of our biggest strengths and one of our strongest values is community. We are a community, a family community. I’ve been told by many of you that this is a place where everyone is welcome and the people are friendly. So, our vision as community is to be a healthy community, because while some families put the “fun” in dysfunctional, we know we can healthy and fun. And our vision is to be a faithful community. We are a faith community, after all, and we follow Jesus together. Our vision is to be a healthy, faithful community where everyone is welcomed and included, where everyone feels heard and where everyone participates in the life of our church family.
Second, our vision is to be a community where people of all ages grow in their faith. You’re never too young or too old to grow closer to Jesus. This is that process of sanctification, where we still bit by bit become more like Jesus, where God still works on us. This is life after becoming a Christian. We don’t want to be like James and John and start thinking it’s all about us or give in to fear. We still need those reminders to be faithful, even when it’s the hard thing to do, even when fear is whispering in our ear from all sides. We don’t want to become a lukewarm follower of Jesus. So, we continue to grow in our faith through bible study, worship, service, and fellowship. More than that, each of these pieces has both a communal side and an individual side to them. We read the bible at home and we read it together. We come together Sundays for worship, and you may find yourself praising God for the beauty of nature or a plan coming together or a piece of good news. We are involved in serving both together and apart. And we spend time together and time alone with God. Fellowship is a word we hardly hear outside the church, but none of the synonyms quite fit. It’s not just friendship or companionship. It’s being together on purpose. Hanging out together. Getting to know each other and asking each other about those things that matter to each person. It’s being Jesus to each other, showing Jesus to each other. That helps me grow in my faith and you grow in yours. Our vision is for everyone to be growing closer to Jesus.
Third, we’re not just here for ourselves. We don’t stay in our houses and our church buildings. Our vision is for our faith community to be active and involved in our geographic community, on the local level on up to the global level.  We do this through acts of service, gifts, and prayer. We serve, give, and pray for our community. Remember, we witness through our actions as much as, if not more than, our words. Look at how fickle the crowd was around Bartimaeus. When he first started shouting for Jesus, the crowd told him to shut up. Then once Jesus called him, they said, “You can be happy now. He’s calling you.” Their words were not very supportive. “They tried to silence Bartimaeus, but no one was going to take from him his one chance to escape from his world of darkness, and he cried with such importunity that the procession stopped, and he was brought to Jesus.”[6] The crowd was going to ignore him, but he needed Jesus. Our world needs Jesus, as we saw again yesterday. Our country, our state, our county, our village of Lisbon, needs Jesus. We need Jesus. And he doesn’t stay boxed in by four walls. You can’t assume that people are attracted to church and will come on their own. That model has changed, and that’s okay. It means rather than the flow of people coming in, the flow goes out. We go out from here each Sunday, ready to love and serve the world, just as Jesus did. That’s our vision. That’s why we’re here. That’s the kind of community we’re moving towards, the kind we want to become. Inviting, growing, serving. That’s our vision. We’re no longer just surviving. We’re living again. And we’re ready to live abundantly, just like Bartimaeus.


[1] “If I Had $1000000,” first recorded in 1988
[2] Feasting on the Word, Year B, Vol 4, p. 212
[3] Proverbs 29:18
[4] NIV
[5] MSG
[6] The Gospel of Mark, William Barclay, 1956, p. 271

Wednesday, October 24, 2018

Power Struggle


22nd Sunday after Pentecost
October 21, 2018
Mark 10:35-45


Are we there yet? [pause] Are we there yet? [pause] Are we there yet? If you’ve ever been on a road trip with children, or people with no sense of time passing, then chances are good you’ve heard this question. It might even be that no more than two minutes after you left your house, someone has asked for a snack, or a bathroom stop, or a cigarette break if you’re traveling with a smoker. When our kids were 3 and 1, my husband sent me a on a trip by myself to see my best friend from college, and it was so different traveling by myself! Quieter. No one asking for anything. No one holding on to me. No one to worry about or keep track of but myself. However, we’re social people. We tend to travel with others when we have the opportunity. And Jesus traveled with others; he was not a lone wolf. The twelve disciples plus other followers went with him as he traveled around, teaching and healing.
We’re still in Mark 10, but there’s a pattern that began back in chapter 8 that I want to draw your attention to. Mark is the shortest of the four Gospels, only 16 chapters long. Chapter 8 is the halfway point. And in chapter 8, after some teaching and healing, while on the way from Bethsaida to Caesarea Philippi, Jesus tells the disciples for the first time that he’s going to suffer, be rejected by the authorities, executed by the government, and will rise again after three days. He does this again in chapter 9, while passing through Galilee, from the mount of transfiguration to Capernaum. And Jesus does it a third time in chapter 10, while passing through the region of Judea on the way to Jerusalem, in the verses immediately before the section we read today about James and John.
Three is a key number in Christianity, as you may have noticed. It’s the number of the Trinity, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. It’s how many days Jesus spent in the grave, between the cross and the resurrection. It’s how many times Satan tempted Jesus before he began his public ministry and three years is how long that ministry lasted. Jonah spent three days in the belly of a whale. Three visitors came to tell Abraham and that he and Sarah, in their old age, were going to have a baby. Three is a holy number, representing wholeness, completeness, and perfection. So, here in the middle of Mark’s Gospel, Jesus tells the disciples three times what’s going to happen next. He’s going to be betrayed, handed over to the authorities, given the death penalty, and three days later will come back to life.
Jesus knows this is a conversation topic for a trip. This isn’t a dinner table conversation, or one to have in passing, or even one to have on a mountainside or in a boat. This is one to have while traveling. Road trip conversations are often different than ones you have every day. Road trip conversations are when your mind wanders and you get to think about different things and process things that you hadn’t finished thinking about before. In a car, it’s time in a confined space with your travel companions, who are a captive audience, and it can become a time to catch up, to share deeper thoughts beyond logistics and day-to-day details. Now, Jesus and his disciples aren’t in a car or a plane or train, they’re walking. Not everyone is going to hear all parts of the conversation because some are walking in front, some behind, some to the side, some are walking and talking with someone else. The second and third times Jesus has this conversation with the disciples, Mark says that Jesus actually takes the twelve aside to tell them. There are no eavesdroppers from the crowd. It’s just the thirteen of them. They’ve been traveling, thinking about what they’ve seen and heard, maybe lost in their own thoughts, maybe shooting the breeze with a fellow traveler, and Jesus tells them, look, this is what’s going to happen. The advantage is that they are traveling, they have time and space to think about this, they don’t have to move on to the next thing immediately. There is value in the journey itself, rather than as an ends to a means.
However, here’s the thing, all three times Jesus tells them about his impending death and resurrection, the disciples have trouble dealing. Even though Jesus has given them this time and space of a journey to process it, each time they still struggle. The first time, it’s Peter, who after Jesus shares, rebukes Jesus. And that’s when Jesus rebukes Peter back with the line of “Get behind me Satan! You do not have in mind the concerns of God, but merely human concerns.” That’s chapter 8, Peter’s just plain in denial. No way, Jesus, this is just not happening. The second time, in chapter 9, Mark says the disciples “did not understand what it meant and were afraid to ask him about it.” Jesus has said this twice now, and he sounds a little cuckoo. So they talk with each other instead and when they get to their destination, Jesus asks them what they were arguing about on the trip. The disciples “keep quiet because on the way there had argued about who was the greatest.”[1] Jesus tells them he’s about to be killed by the government and they’re jockeying for position for who’ll be the next leader of the group. They’re afraid to ask Jesus about it and so they focus on themselves. Who’s the best disciple? Who does the most for Jesus? Who sacrificed the most?
Saint Ignatius of Loyola was a Spanish priest who founded the Jesuit order in the 16th century. Before he became a priest he was a soldier and after being seriously wounded, spent some time convalescing in a castle where the only books were about the lives of the saints. Ignatius was bored enough that he started reading about the saints and comparing his life to theirs and imagining how he would go about doing the same great things that they did. That is a healthy competition, when it’s encouraging and inspiring. After Ignatius was healed was when he went to seminary, became a priest, and went on to found the Jesuits, an order known for their emphasis on education and service.
But the disciples were not building each other up and inspiring each other to do great things for Jesus. They were arguing who was the greatest and why I’m better than you. That kind of competition is not healthy, it’s not helpful, it does not belong in the church. In Mark 9, Jesus tells the disciples, “Anyone who wants to be first must be the very last, and the servant of all.”
This is similar to what happens in chapter 10 as well. A third time, Jesus tells them about his impending betrayal, death, and resurrection, and this time, it’s James and John, the sons of Zebedee, also sometimes called the sons of thunder, who come to Jesus and ask him to do them a favor. They know it’s not the best thing to ask, otherwise they wouldn’t have asked for their request to be granted before they gave the request. In fact, in Matthew’s Gospel, it’s their mother who comes and asks for them! And we know, there are some people who ask for a favor, and we say, “sure, anything,” and there are other people to whom we say, “depends on what you’re asking,” which is the answer Jesus gives them. James and John ask to sit on each side of Jesus when he comes in glory. Jesus says, “You don’t know what you’re talking about. Are you really able to do that?” They say, “yes,” Jesus agrees that yes, they are, but they still may not sit on his right and his left. Then the other ten find out and they are angry with James and John! How dare they! They had just been reprimanded for arguing about who was the greatest, and here these two brothers go sneaking off trying to guarantee their good position in advance.
Jesus tells all twelve of them, “Rulers can be tyrants. But you’re not. Whoever wishes to be great must serve and whoever wants to be first must be last. For the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many.” You are not to engage in power struggles. You are not to jockey for position, or the best seat in the house, or the best parking space, or anything else. Life is not about others serving you. Life is about you serving others. You are to be last, you are not to worry about your position. You are to give your life for others. You are to “go about quietly, taking care of the needs of others.”[2] Not boasting, not giving orders, no favorites. There is no individual power or prestige when you gather in my name. You come as brothers and sisters. You come to serve.
Serving is the appropriate response to our incurable human tendency to put ourselves first.[3] Our goal is not to be the biggest and the best. Our goal is to be faithful, and to help others be faithful as well. In my gospel parallels book, which lines up the four gospels as best you can so you can easily compare the similar passages, where Matthew, Mark, and Luke all talk about service, the author puts John’s example of service.[4] Only in John is the story of Jesus washing the disciples’ feet.[5] As all this traveling was done by walking, and typical shoes were sandals, your feet got quite dirty on the road. When you arrived, you washed your feet, or if it was a nicer place, a servant was there to wash your feet. After the last supper, the night Jesus is betrayed, Jesus gets up from the table, ties a towel around his waist, and washes his disciples’ feet. Jesus is the ultimate servant. He’s a king, too, but he doesn’t act like any king we know. He leaves the throne to get down and dirty, not with the noble class or white collar, or even really the working class. He takes on the role of a servant. This was Jesus’ humility. Paul describes it in Philippians 2 and advises us, “Think of yourselves the way Christ Jesus thought of himself. He had equal status with God but didn’t think so much of himself that he had to cling to the advantages no matter what. Not at all. When the time came, he set aside the privileges of deity and took on the status of a slave, became human. It was an incredibly humbling process. He didn’t claim special privileges. Instead, he lived a selfless, obedient life and then died a selfless, obedient death – and the worst kind of death at that – a crucifixion.”[6] This is who our role model is. Not someone who took advantage of his connections, not someone who pulled strings, not someone who threw his privilege around, or lorded it over others. Jesus said, no tyranny. “To be a tyrant is to claim a false power based on deep fear. To claim a healing power is to find strength in humility.”[7] Not a false humility, or self-deprecating humility, but a quiet taking care of the needs of others.
Paul says later in Philippians 2, “What I’m getting at, friends, is that you should simply keep doing what you’ve done from the beginning. When I was living among you, you lived in responsive obedience. Now that I’m separated from you, keep it up. Better yet, redouble your efforts. Be energetic in your life of salvation, reverent and sensitive before God. That energy is God’s energy, an energy deep within  you, God himself willing and working at what will give him the most pleasure. Do everything readily and cheerfully – no bickering, no second-guessing allowed! Go out into the world uncorrupted, a breath of fresh air in this squalid and polluted society. Provide people with a glimpse of good living and of the living God. Carry the light-giving Message into the night.”[8]
People take a second look at you when you quietly do good things, when you help without asking for compensation, when you do hard things without grumbling, when there’s something different about you and it intrigues others. Be that breath of fresh air. Carry the light. Provide others with a glimpse of God. That’s what we who are called by Christ’s name, who are called Christian, are called to do. Show the world that God loves them.


[1] Mark 9:34
[2] Forbid Them Not, Year B, by Carolyn Brown, p. 169
[3] Feasting on the Word, Year B, Volume 4, p. 190
[4] Synopsis of the Four Gospels, edited by Kurt Aland, p. 226
[5] John 13:1-17
[6] Philippians 2:5-8, MSG
[7] On the Mend worship series by Dr. Marcia McFee, Healing Power synopsis
[8] Philippians 2:12-15, MSG