Stumbling blocks - Sermon on Mark 9:38-50 - 09.30.2018

Listen to the gospel lesson and sermon here.

Mark 9:38-50

38 John said to him, "Teacher, we saw someone casting out demons in your name, and we tried to stop him, because he was not following us." 39 But Jesus said, "Do not stop him; for no one who does a deed of power in my name will be able soon afterward to speak evil of me. 40 Whoever is not against us is for us. 41 For truly I tell you, whoever gives you a cup of water to drink because you bear the name of Christ will by no means lose the reward. 42 "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. 43 If your hand causes you to stumble, cut it off; it is better for you to enter life maimed than to have two hands and to go to hell, to the unquenchable fire. 44 45 And if your foot causes you to stumble, cut it off; it is better for you to enter life lame than to have two feet and to be thrown into hell. , 46 47 And if your eye causes you to stumble, tear it out; it is better for you to enter the kingdom of God with one eye than to have two eyes and to be thrown into hell, 48 where their worm never dies, and the fire is never quenched. 49 "For everyone will be salted with fire. 50 Salt is good; but if salt has lost its saltiness, how can you season it? Have salt in yourselves, and be at peace with one another."

The gospel of the Lord?   Holy smokes, Jesus. Did you hear what he just said?  "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.⁴³ If your hand causes you to stumble, cut it off; it is better for you to enter life maimed than to have two hands and to go to hell, to the unquenchable fire.⁴⁴ 45 And if your foot causes you to stumble, cut it off; it is better for you to enter life lame than to have two feet and to be thrown into hell. ,⁴⁶ 47 And if your eye causes you to stumble, tear it out; it is better for you to enter the kingdom of God with one eye than to have two eyes and to be thrown into hell,⁴⁸ where their worm never dies, and the fire is never quenched.

This does not sound like the blue-eyed, blonde hair Jesus we read about in children’s Bibles.  In fact, this seems to be a far departure from the soft-hearted, compassionate, and patient Jesus we love and prefer.  Something triggers within Jesus this very direct and emphatic teaching. Being drowned as sea by the weight of a millstone, cutting off your hand or foot, removing your eye...these, Jesus says, are the alternatives, the better alternatives, mind you to deceiving someone in faith.  

Jesus, hyperbolic as he may sound, emphasizes the personal risk in causing another to sin or stumble.  Leading a neighbor astray. Jesus instructs those who follow him that the stakes are incredibly high. And to be certain, it’s not so much the stakes of your own life, the call to pick up the cross and follow that comes at a great cost.  

No, it’s the call to teach, instruct, associate, and show others the way of faithful living that carries such stakes.  For if one were to cause a stumbling block, then it is better to drown, cut off a limb, or remove your eye. You’d think that there’s nothing worse than losing a hand, foot, or eye, but Jesus clearly says there is.  

The stakes are intense so that we may never lead anyone into sin.  That we may never lead a neighbor astray. That we may never bear a false witness.  That we may never hinder the fervor of the gospel. It’s hard to wrap my mind around Jesus saying that the consequences of causing another to stumble are far worse than self-maiming so that we never do it again.

And Such responsibility comes with incredibly high stakes.  These are difficult and challenging words from Jesus. There is no fluffing the edges in order to avoid conviction.   And honestly, these words should have us to shudder in a our seat at least a little bit. Can you imagine a world in which Jesus’ teaching was strictly followed?  

If we led a neighbor or stranger to sin or worse, stood in the way of the gospel message, then we would cut, remove, maim or drown ourselves?  The song goes, “They will know we are Christians by our love,” but in taking this teaching to heart I suspect “they would come to know we are Christians by our missing limbs.”

Powerful and intimidating teaching by Jesus.  And I suspect that very few of us wish to dive into these words with any form eagerness.  They are hard to hear, and the easiest thing to do is brush them off and move on to the next passage, the next Sunday, the next sermon.   

But if we dare, and we must, then we might be receptive to these convicting words and hear the necessity and relevance of Jesus’ teaching then and now.  For none of us with to lose and arm, a leg, and eye...and I’m sure none of us wish for death by drowning under the weight of a millstone. 

Today’s gospel lesson falls on the coattails of Jesus foretelling his impending rejection, suffering, death, and resurrection.  Jesus taught them about the fate of the son of man not once but twice so far and on both occasions they respond poorly. 

Most recently we heard the disciples arguing among themselves who is the greatest.  Rather than process, lament, or grieve the news of Jesus’ forthcoming death, the disciples are concerned about themselves.  Who is the greatest. Who will lead. Sure, they don’t fully understand their call as disciples and apostles, but they knew it was them who were called.  So who was the greatest. 

Jesus gives them a stern lesson that whoever wants to be first must be last of all and servant of all. He then takes a child in his arms and says whoever welcomes one such child in my name, welcomes me.  Now I remind you that a child in those days was the lowest in society. They had no rights or privileges. No protection of the law or advocate. 

They were considered a drain on society and were a constant reminder of poverty, disease, and death.  Until they could provide for themselves or contribute to society, they were considered the ultimate of the lost, least, and last.  

For Jesus, the child was a representation to the disciples that their call as well as their desire to be the greatest was ultimately dependent upon their ability and willingness to care for the outcast. The oppressed. The poor. The lame. The ill. And the sinner.   Only then, in the name of Jesus, when you humble yourself to the lowest among you can you be considered in the company of the greatest.

So the disciples return to Jesus this morning eager to point a finger at someone who is acting in Jesus’ name.  Rather than approach the individual and affirm their ministry, the run to Jesus to say he’s not one of us and he’s acting in your name!  He must be stopped. 

But Jesus, who is still embracing that same child teaches them yet another lesson.  This time a bit harsher than the last. Rather be concerned about the ministry of someone else, Jesus implores the disciples to pay attention instead to their own behavior.  To look within and consider the ways in which they themselves might be hindering the ministry of the gospel to those around them. 

Jesus launches into one of the most harsh teachings in all of the gospel.  Four brutal statements to illustrate the severity of leading someone to sin.  The danger of being a hindrance to faith. The detriment of tempting another into the ensnarement of sin.  Jesus calls these actions, stumbling blocks. Stones that cause one to trip. In this case, trip them in their understanding and experience of faith.  Of God’s deep abiding grace, love, mercy, and forgiveness.

Perhaps, just maybe, even against our own comfort, Jesus’ teaching speaks hard truths to the Christian faith still today.  Is it possible that we, and I mean the Christian church as a whole, have created, maintained, inserted, or even elevated stumbling blocks for those outside of the faith?  

Empowered barriers, borders, or speed bumps to impeded the good news of Christ from reaching that last, lost, and least.  The lowest, oppressed, scorned, and damaged. Or even those within the Christian faith, have we failed to support, empower, understand, welcome, and love in the name of Christ?  Excluding rather than including. Dismissing rather than inviting. Rejecting rather than supporting. Ignoring rather than embracing.

Please, hear me when I say that my intent is not to invoke Jesus’ teaching as a means of conviction upon St. Mark’s, Lutherans, or Christianity as whole.  Rather, I think Jesus’ teaching demands that we pause, if even for a moment of deep self-reflection. 

To reclaim the power of the gospel, remove the dead limbs and sinful impediments, and repave the way to everlasting life so that no one, and I mean no one may stumble when receiving the grace of God. 

Research confirms, and I suspect we can all agree that there is a deep concern that mainline Christianity as whole is on the decline.  That the need or desire for a life in a community of faith is waning. 

Certainly there are a multitude of reasons and factors, but so often I hear stories of people who have felt burned by the Christian church, or they feel that the good news we preach isn’t always shown through our actions.  These are the result of stumbling blocks. 

I think this week, the Christian community was forced to grapple with one of these stumbling blocks.  What is the response of the church in stories of assault. With rise and empowerment of movements like #metoo and #times up, more and more individuals are choosing to be vulnerable and tell their stories.  What is the role of the church? And to be fair, the Bible itself is not immune to such stories. Ironically enough we’ll explore one of them today in Sunday school. 

But as one of these stories played out on national television on Thursday, I wrestled with wondering what is the church’s response.  Is there a beacon of hope clearly guiding the way to a God who loves unconditionally, a way clear of bumps and hindrances? 

Ya know I think that faith and the love of Christ is an overwhelming relief to the burden one might carry, but when I also hear the relentless stories of priests abusing their own power over children...I fear that the church has lost its credibility and relevance.  Why would anyone be so vulnerable trust me with their story? Is the stumbling block too severe to traverse?

Now this is one, weighty example, but it is absolutely current. And it is these sorts of honest and difficult impediments to faith that Christ calls us to confront and overcome. To repair. To repent. To reconcile. 

And It seems to me that in today’s society and culture, Christianity can ill-afford any stumbling blocks.  Rather than compartmentalize our faith and distance the good news of Christ from all notions of a sinful world, I think Jesus would have us engage a sinful and broken world.  To jump right in, pull out the jack hammer, and shine a light on every crack and rock that might cause someone to misstep when seeking out faith. 

And Yes, yes it is a lofty responsibility.  The stakes, as Jesus points out are incredibly high. But brothers and sisters, the good news is that in breaking down the stumbling blocks and shining a light in the darkness, we have a proclamation far better than the world could ever dream of.  

We are called to serve witness to the greatest story of all.  God’s salvation and love poured out unconditionally upon all creation.  A story of immense grace and forgiveness. A story washed by mercy. 

And thus Christianity is the city on the hill, where a light shines in the darkness and the darkness of the world did not overcome it.  A place where the oppressed are set free, the poor are raised up, and the abused are heard. Where the blind see and the deaf hear. 

A refuge for all who have been scorned, dismayed, or rejected by a world that honors self-righteousness over humility, exclusion over invitation, rejection over acceptance.  God’s story empowers us to welcome the stranger, care for the least among us, give shelter to the homeless, and clothe the naked. 

And in today’s gospel lesson, Jesus advises the disciples and us to be speak with wisdom and truth, to act justly with grace and mercy, to be diligent and thoughtful, open and welcoming.  For now as much as ever, the Christian faith has a call to be a relevant and faithful presence in the world. Remove the impediments of faith, and proclaim Christ crucified until all of creation is reconciled into the one body of Christ.

And when the stumbling blocks are removed, when the light shines in the darkness and all are bid come and follow, the story of God’s love in Jesus Christ has the power to bring about peace in a war-torn world.  The power to build up unity in a divisive world. 

To tear down walls, bridge the isle, and end division.  

The power to breed compassion, soften hearts, and pour out love. 

The power to end hunger and poverty, the power to lift up lowly and cast down the mighty.  To establish not just equality but equity. The power to give voice to the oppressed and forgiveness to the oppressor.  

My dearest sisters and brothers, the gospel message that we proclaim...the same message that created us.  The very message the claimed us in the waters. The message the nourishes us and sustains us. The message that saves us is one of immense, unconditional love.  And it’s a message given to the whole world. It’s a message too good not to share. 

And today, with difficult and necessary words, Jesus reminds us that our call is not just to proclaim the gospel message, but to take every measure necessary to ensure that no one be precluded from hearing, tasting, or seeing for themselves. 

Amen. 

© Pastor Daniel Locke, preached Sept. 30, 2018 @ St. Mark's Lutheran Jacksonville, FL

I Am The Greatest! - Sermon on Mark 9:30-37 - 09.23.2018

Listen to the gospel lesson and sermon here.

Mark 9:30-37

30 They went on from there and passed through Galilee. He did not want anyone to know it;³¹ for he was teaching his disciples, saying to them, "The Son of Man is to be betrayed into human hands, and they will kill him, and three days after being killed, he will rise again."³² But they did not understand what he was saying and were afraid to ask him.³³ Then they came to Capernaum; and when he was in the house he asked them, "What were you arguing about on the way?"³⁴ But they were silent, for on the way they had argued with one another who was the greatest.³⁵ He sat down, called the twelve, and said to them, "Whoever wants to be first must be last of all and servant of all."³⁶ Then he took a little child and put it among them; and taking it in his arms, he said to them,³⁷ "Whoever welcomes one such child in my name welcomes me, and whoever welcomes me welcomes not me but the one who sent me."

In 1963 a young 21 year old comedian named Cassius Clay released a spoken word album called I am the greatest.  This is the legend of Cassius Clay, the most beautiful fighter in the world today. He talks a great deal and brags indeed-y of a muscular punch that’s incredibly speedy.  The fistic world was dull and weary. With a champ like Liston, things had to be dreary. 

Cassius Clay was months away from taking on Sonny Liston for the title of world heavyweight championship.    In February of 1964, Cassius Clay defeated Sonny Liston in a boxing match. He defied all the odds. He won the match.  Changed his name to Muhammed Ali, and let the world know, “I am the greatest, I said that even before I knew I was.” 

In 1992, Ali’s wife, Lonnie, incorporporated his intellectual property and created G.O.A.T. Inc.  GOAT - Greatest of All Time. I doubt many people would argue, especially with Ali when he was live, whether or not he truly was the GOAT..the greatest of all time.   But perhaps one of the biggest blows Ali landed was to a society vulnerable to competition. Declaring himself as the greatest of all time fed a culture that valued being better than the other. 

And so, now-a-days, one of the most contentious and popular discussions, especially within sports is to determine who the GOAT is.  Who is the greatest of all time? The greatest team. The greatest football quarterback...is it Tom Brady? Joe Montana? John Elway?   The greatest tennis player - Federer or Nadal? Serena or Vanessa Williams? Or golfer...arnold palmer? Tiger Woods? Basketball - Lebron James? Kobe Bryant? Michael Jordan?

There a passionate fan base in today’s culture that works tirelessly to elevate individuals to the status of GOAT.  And on top of that, these passionate fans have set the bar for athletes. The new trophy or measure of ultimate success is to be considered the GOAT.  

But it’s not just sports.  This status of being the greatest permeates all walks of life.  No job, hobby, passion, or person is free from the pressure, measure, and judgement of greatness in another's’ eyes.. In fact, our culture thirsts and thrives on trying to be the greatest.  The best. The richest. The first, the fastest, and the favorite. And to be the greatest or best means that everyone else by comparison, is not.

Society measures us by success, status, and power.  We are rated by lists and rankings. Resumes and referrals.  We revere trophies, plaques, and awards. The world baits us into not just buying, but believing we need the newest, the shiniest, the biggest, the fastest, or the rarest thing.  

Our world lives in spite of the 9th and 10th commandment, encouraging us to live lives by comparison.  So that one day, with the biggest house, largest income, and shiniest stuff ..with the loudest voice, the most followers, and the highest title..we might just gaining the title of the greatest … the GOAT.  

In today’s gospel lesson, the disciples are sizing one another up.  Long before Ali became the GOAT, the disciples are in a verbal sparring match to determine who among them was the greatest.  It is unlikely that their arguments for being the best were rooted in financial wealth, personal possession, or even education.  

No, they were likely competing on the grounds of their own discipleship-ness.  Comparing and contrasting who among them was the best disciple. Who follows Jesus the best.  Who listens and understands the best. Who prays most faithfully. Who sacrificed the most to become a disciple.  Who among them was the greatest and therefore most equipped to succeed Jesus when the time comes. 

It’s moments like this that really give the disciples a bad wrap.  You see as they left Galilee for Capernaum, Jesus taught them that the Son of Man is to be betrayed into human hands.  That human hands will kill him, and three days after being killed, he will rise again." 

This is the second time now that Jesus has plainly told them that he is going to be rejected and he’ll suffer.  He’ll die and he’ll rise. And how do the disciples respond? “They did not understand what he was saying and were afraid to ask him.

Silence, just silence.  Jesus, their mentor, leader, rabbi, friend, and teacher...the one who bid them to come and follow on this unpredictable adventure instructs them that he is going to suffer, die and rise...and they have no response.  And it’s more than just silence. The text tells us that their silence is rooted in fear, and rather than acknowledge that they don’t understand, or feel embarrassed in front of their friends, they remain silent.

And so after this moment of awkward silence, they hit the road again.  This time off to Capernaum. And rather than concern themselves with the difficult truth that Jesus just told them about they argue within themselves about who is the greatest.   

The disciples were concerned about themselves.  Sparring over who is the greatest. It’s no wonder they get a bad wrap.   Their dearest friend just told them he was going to die, and rather that share mutual concern or grief, it’s like they’re racing to place sticky notes on the furniture and family heirlooms as fast as they can.

And as they arrive in Capernaum Jesus turns to them and asks, "What were you arguing about on the way?"³⁴ But they were silent, for on the way they had argued with one another who was the greatest.³⁵ So Jesus sat down, called the twelve over, and began to teach.

I think the implication here is that Jesus heard their conversation on the road.  Jesus knew what they were arguing about and he was going to use this opportunity to teach them.  So he sits down, calls them over and offers a table-turning lesson about first and last. About greatest of all and least of all.  And to illustrate his point takes a child into his arms and instructs that that in order to be the greatest, you must welcome a child such as this.

I suspect for most of us, there is nothing alarming or challenging about this instruction.  After all most of us love children. Welcome a child is a privilege and honor. It’s a joy and delight.  All week I was trying to think of a good illustration to offer you in light of this teaching. And for a moment I thought, I have a new child...I’ll just lift Bennet up in front of you all and say “Whoever welcomes this child in Jesus’ name welcomes Jesus and in turn welcomes the one who sent Jesus.  And while it seemed like a relevant idea, I was worried for Bennet’s life because I think there might be a grudge match as to who gets to welcome Bennet first.

So why a child?  What was the significance of Jesus embracing a child while teaching about first, last, greatest, and least.  In Jesus’ day a child was the lowest of the low on the social ladder. A child had no legal rights or privileges.  A child had no status, no power. They contributed nothing to society. Rather, they were a drain on resources. They couldn’t provide for themselves.  

And until a child grew old enough to provide for the family, they were truly the lowest.  Often even regarded below women. Children were often a reminder for poverty, and disease.  Nearly a third of all children died at birth, and of those who survived, nearly half of them would die before 16.  Children had the lowest place in society. They truly were the last the lost and the least.

So Jesus takes the child from the margins.  Embraces the child and teaches. And Jesus didn’t embrace the child because the child represented cute innocence and curiosity.  Jesus embraced the child because in order to do so he must bend down. Stoop low. Humble himself to cross all social boundaries and show affection for someone society otherwise discarded.  He was elevating the child above his own status, teaching that to be first and greatest is truly to humble yourself to the last in order to be a servant of all. 

For Jesus, being first, being the greatest, isn’t a badge of pride or success.  It’s not achievement. It’s not glamorous. For Jesus, greatness means being humble.  Putting the world before yourself. Crossing the margins and lifting up the ill and impure...the discarded outcast and lowest member of society.  

Greatness lies in the weak, vulnerable, and tender.  Greatness belongs to the hurt, the broken-hearted, and the lost.   It is in humility and solidarity with those who would never, ever think of themselves as great in the first place.  

And I think the hard truth from Jesus is that for the disciples or us to even be able to have a conversation about who is the greatest among us is a privilege.  A privilege that isn’t available to everyone. Sure, you may never be the GOAT by worldly standards, but that fact that you even have a chance to be defined by the world as great is a privilege.  

And I think Jesus is calling the disciples and us out on that privilege.  Jesus embraces and elevates a child as our witness to greatness. A child who doesn’t even have a voice in the conversation is our model of God’s greatness.

So what is the good news from Jesus in this teaching moment?  What good news is there for us today? Well the truth is, for most of us, it probably doesn’t immediately sound like good news. 

For most of us, we come from and live within the culture of competition and worldly greatness.  We work hard for what we have. We upgrade as we go. We notice the greatness of our neighbors and we make sure our neighbors notice us.   We’re always, intentionally or not, in pursuit of being the greatest. 

But the truth is my friends, while the world we live in thrives on rank and stature, the kingdom of God knows no standard by which one is greater than another.   

And as long as we compete and elevate a worldly expectation of greatness, we abuse our privilege and make victims out of the powerless.  The outcast remains outcast. The oppressed oppressed. Greatness in the eyes of the world comes only at the expense of those the world would never have us see. 

And I don’t think Jesus is telling us not to celebrate success or strive for the best.  After all, it is our God given gifts that allow us to succeed. But rather, I think Jesus is warning us that with worldly greatness comes much power and privilege.  We are called to use that power and privilege, our greatness not for ourselves, but for the sake of the world. Arguing over who is the greatest means nothing if we ignore the lowest in our midst.

The author of James put it this way this morning, “For where there is envy and selfish ambition, there will also be disorder and wickedness of every kind.¹⁷ But the wisdom from above is first pure, then peaceable, gentle, willing to yield, full of mercy and good fruits, without a trace of partiality or hypocrisy.”

And I think the good news this morning is that Jesus has shown us a way...a way that is truly great..  A path by which we are all made great. A greatness that comes not in rank, power, or status...but rather a greatness that comes to us in a naming.  A claiming. And rather than being defined as great by our accomplishments, earnings, achievements, or possessions...it is our identity in Christ that bestows greatness upon us.  That makes us a servant of all.

For one day, all the things that we think define greatness will fall away.  Status will fade. Power will recede. We can’t always be first.

But in the kingdom of God, Jesus turns the world upside down.  Invites all to have a seat at the table. Jew greek, slave, free, child and king.  All kneel humbly at the power of the cross. All have a voice and a name. All have a place in the kingdom.  All are made one in the great love of Christ. Where the first shall be last and last shall be first. Where the greatest power is power over death and the greatest privilege is eternal life--life well beyond the world’s expectations.   

And perhaps, that good news, is the greatest of all time.

© Pastor Daniel Locke, preached Sept. 23, 2018 @ St. Mark's Lutheran Jacksonville, FL

Come, Let Me Show You - Sermon on Mark 8:27-38 - 09.16.2018

Listen to the gospel and the sermon here.  Mark 8:27-38

27 Jesus went on with his disciples to the villages of Caesarea Philippi; and on the way he asked his disciples, "Who do people say that I am?" 28 And they answered him, "John the Baptist; and others, Elijah; and still others, one of the prophets."29 He asked them, "But who do you say that I am?" Peter answered him, "You are the Messiah." 30 And he sternly ordered them not to tell anyone about him. 31 Then he began to teach them that the Son of Man must undergo great suffering, and be rejected by the elders, the chief priests, and the scribes, and be killed, and after three days rise again. 32 He said all this quite openly. And Peter took him aside and began to rebuke him. 33 But turning and looking at his disciples, he rebuked Peter and said, "Get behind me, Satan! For you are setting your mind not on divine things but on human things." 34 He called the crowd with his disciples, and said to them, "If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me. 35 For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake, and for the sake of the gospel, will save it. 36 For what will it profit them to gain the whole world and forfeit their life? 37 Indeed, what can they give in return for their life? 38 Those who are ashamed of me and of my words in this adulterous and sinful generation, of them the Son of Man will also be ashamed when he comes in the glory of his Father with the holy angels."

Who do you say that I am?  This is one of the most notable conversations of Jesus, and certainly one of his most memorable interactions with Peter.   Who do you say that I am? It is a question within scripture that I suspect most of us are familiar with. Some say you are John the Baptist, some say Elijah, some say a prophet, or other.  But, you, Jesus asks, who do you say that I am?

Today we find Jesus and his disciples on the road again.  They are making their way from Bethsaida to Caesarea Philippi, where Jesus will begin to transition to Jerusalem.  This moment of walking and talking serves as an interlude between Jesus’ public ministry and Jesus preparing the disciples for his impending death.   And it’s on the road, on the way, that Jesus asks the disciples “who do people say that I am?”

So the disciples offer some answers based on their experiences with the crowds.  They’ve witnessed first hand all that Jesus has done and they no doubt have an ear to the ground and the rumblings of the crowds.  They have a handle on the crowds expectations and interpretations of who Jesus is. Some say John the Baptist, some say Elijah, some a prophet, or other…

But you, inner circle, whom I have called to be my disciples, my followers, first hand witnesses...who do you say that I am?  Peter steps up and quickly replies, you are the Messiah! Without hesitation, out of Peter’s mouth comes this declaration of faith, You are the Messiah!

I suspect most of us think nothing of it because, of course Jesus is the Messiah...we know that.  Why wouldn’t Peter know that?

“You are the Messiah.”  I often wonder what makes Peter respond in such a way?  I wonder what it is that allows…empowers him to respond to Jesus with such a profound and decisive   proclamation of faith?   His response is more than a recitation, or simple answer. Rather it is a response of faith and confession. And I always wonder, why now?  What changed for Peter that helped him to see and understand? I mean, he and the disciples don’t have the best track record for knowing who Jesus is...So what changed?

Somewhere along the journey, Peter has come to know and profess Jesus as the Messiah.  That’s who Christ is….or, for Peter at least, the Messiah is who wants Jesus to be.

We often praise Peter for proclaiming Jesus as the Messiah, but I think that’s only because we A) know the ending of the story, and B) have a different understanding and expectation of a Messiah because we know the ending of the story.

And as confident as Peter may be in declaring Jesus as the Messiah, it all blows up in his face when Jesus tells them that the time has come for the son of Man to undergo great suffering, be rejected by the elders, the chief priests, the scribes, and be killed.   This doesn’t sit well with Peter, so he gets in Jesus’ face and rebukes him. You’re wrong, Jesus! No Messiah of mine will be defeated! My messiah absolutely will NOT undergo suffering. He surely wouldn’t be rejected by those in power. And my Messiah absolutely will not, cannot be killed.

For Peter, there is a drastic disconnect between his naming of Jesus as the Messiah, and Jesus’ actual reign as a Messiah.  Peter can not reconcile who he thinks and says Jesus is with the actions and impending future of Jesus as the Messiah.

Jesus responds, “Get behind me Satan! For you are setting your mind not on divine things but on human things!”  This exchange isn’t about Peter’s deep love for Christ and the prospect of a broken heart if he has to watch his friend, mentor, and rabbi die.  No, Peter’s reaction is because the future Jesus paints is NOT the future Peter wants or expects of Jesus as Messiah. Peter is selfishly professing who he wants, needs, implores Jesus to be rather than understanding who Jesus says he really is.

For Peter and the Jewish tradition of his day, Messiah was an anointed king, a ruler in the line of David that would come to reign over Israel.  He would restore Israel from the Gentiles. He would reclaim their independence and glory as God’s chosen people. He would overcome adversaries and oppressors.  He would rule like no king before. For the Jewish people, this is what the longed for. This is how they interpreted the prophets. And for Peter, Jesus was the hoped-for Messiah. Challenging authority, leading with confidence and power, teaching and healing in the name of God. Nothing was going to stop Peter’s expectation of Jesus as Messiah.

But the problem is, that’s not who Jesus is.  That’s no what Jesus will do. In fact, nothing to this point in the gospel of Mark has given any indication to Peter that Jesus will reign in this way.  Rather, Peter has set his mind on human things, selfish desire. Calling Jesus the Messiah carried such connotations and expectations, and every one of Peter’s expectations were crushed when Jesus told him what is to become of the son of man.

Peter confidently declares Christ as Messiah, yet his naming is selfish.  It’s rooted in his own understanding, his own hope and expectation. Jesus, you’re our Messiah, long awaited, and our expected Messiah is you are and will be for us.

Peter certainly is the first, nor the last person to define Jesus from his own perspective, hope, and expectation.  For as long as Christ has been proclaimed, the world has found a way to pigeonhole, define, limit, manipulate, or interpret that proclamation to best suit their personal need, agenda, or hope.  For centuries, the name of Christ, the Messiah, the son of God, has been confidently, yet falsely proclaimed to attack, defend, or justify human ambition and action. Human things. And when Christ is interpreted and proclaimed out of personal pride, preference, or perspective, then we abuse both the power and humility of the gospel message.  

And I’m not saying we should fault Peter.  After all, Peter’s hopes for a Messiah aren’t drastically different than our own.  How often do we pray for Jesus to come and rescue us from our troubles. Or pray for Jesus to guide political leaders and elected officials.  How often do we call upon Christ to bring justice to our enemies and righteousness to our actions. How we often do we call upon Christ to end war, calm creation, give meaning and understanding, demolish hatred, and restore us as God’s chosen people.

But the word of warning in today’s Gospel is that Jesus, the Messiah, the son of God and son of man will reign, rule, and resurrect well beyond any of our preconceived notions, preferences, expectations or understandings. We don’t get to define Christ, even in our best of intentions.

Rather we are defined by Christ.  We live, move, and have our very being by grace in Jesus, the son of man, the son of God, the Messiah.  And our Messiah is one who exceeds all expectations, leading with humility and grace. Jesus will restore, redeem, and set free, but he’ll do so in the most contrary way to the world’s expectations.   Rather than lead with force, and power, conquering adversaries and punishing the oppressors. Jesus will willingly and knowingly undergo suffering. He’ll be rejected with humility and grace. He’ll give up his life for the sake of the world.  So all people might have life and life abundant.

This is our Messiah.  And if ever we hope to faithfully proclaim Jesus as our true Messiah, and have confidence in our understanding of the son of God in doing so, then our call is to set aside our selves, and follow.  To lay down our life, and inward, selfish ambition, expectation, or hope, and follow. For naming the messiah is empty if only abstract. It is in the concrete action of serving and following our Messiah that will give faithful understanding to our proclamation.  

This is what Jesus instructs when he tells the crowd to “deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me.  For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake, and for the sake of the gospel, will save it.”  Jesus would have Peter, the disciples, and the crowds turn from their selfishness. Dissolve and preconditions, expectations, or understandings they may have for their Messiah..and follow.  

Who do we say Jesus is?  Make no mistake brothers and sisters, this is a question that the world is asking, and the world is groaning for an answer that is faithful.  Who do you say that Jesus is? What is our response? Is it simply enough to say, “He is the Messiah”?

Well Brothers and Sisters, first it starts much like it did for Peter when Jesus bid him to come and follow.  We too, in the waters of baptism have been named and claimed, marked with the cross of Christ, sealed by the holy spirit, and called to be visible witnesses of the kingdom of God.  

Raised in faith, we too are taught and formed.  We read and discuss the stories of Jesus. We hear Jesus’s sermons and teachings.  We learn from his miracles, parables, and healings. We too, like Peter, come to know, understand, believe in, depend on, follow, and proclaim Jesus as the messiah, the risen son of the living God. Our Faith in Jesus Christ and our ability to proclaim as witnesses to God’s blessing of grace and love is empowered by our daily, tangible experiences of the living God in Jesus Christ.

In worship we are invited to Christ’s table to be consumed by the body and blood of Christ. We are filled again and again by the Spirit, We are fed and nourished, and we are sent out by God to follow Christ with a greater hunger. We follow Christ with a hunger for justice. We follow Christ as he serves a ravished world with love and grace. Follow to feed the hungry, care for the poor, clothe the naked. Follow the Messiah as he advocates for the outcast, gives voice to the oppressed and stands firm in the face of injustice.  

We are called and sent as a church, a body of individuals, empowered by our experience of the living God through the Spirit, to be visible and verbal witnesses to the world that Jesus IS the Messiah, the son of the living God.

It is through this calling that we respond answer who Christ is.  In faithful following and witness to Christ, our naming becomes a confession.  

So, “who do you say Jesus is…”  Some say John the Baptist, some say Elijah, some prophet.

Who do you say Jesus is? Some the Messiah, a king of kings, a mighty ruler. Some say the son of man and son of God.  Some say Lord, healer, and teacher.  Some say redeemer.

But perhaps the most powerful answer of all might be, “come, let me show you…”

Amen.

© Pastor Daniel Locke, preached Sept. 16, 2018 @ St. Mark's Lutheran Jacksonville, FL

Restoring Faith - Sermon on Mark 7:24-37 - 09.09.2018

Listen to the gospel and the sermon here. 

Mark 7:24-37

24 [Jesus] set out and went away to the region of Tyre. He entered a house and did not want anyone to know he was there. Yet he could not escape notice,²⁵ but a woman whose little daughter had an unclean spirit immediately heard about him, and she came and bowed down at his feet.²⁶ Now the woman was a Gentile, of Syrophoenician origin. She begged him to cast the demon out of her daughter.²⁷ He said to her, "Let the children be fed first, for it is not fair to take the children's food and throw it to the dogs."²⁸ But she answered him, "Sir, even the dogs under the table eat the children's crumbs."²⁹ Then he said to her, "For saying that, you may go—the demon has left your daughter."³⁰ So she went home, found the child lying on the bed, and the demon gone.³¹ Then he returned from the region of Tyre, and went by way of Sidon towards the Sea of Galilee, in the region of the Decapolis.³² They brought to him a deaf man who had an impediment in his speech; and they begged him to lay his hand on him.³³ He took him aside in private, away from the crowd, and put his fingers into his ears, and he spat and touched his tongue.³⁴ Then looking up to heaven, he sighed and said to him, "Ephphatha," that is, "Be opened."³⁵ And immediately his ears were opened, his tongue was released, and he spoke plainly.³⁶ Then Jesus ordered them to tell no one; but the more he ordered them, the more zealously they proclaimed it.³⁷ They were astounded beyond measure, saying, "He has done everything well; he even makes the deaf to hear and the mute to speak."

Sermon

Bennet Alexander Locke, today you will be baptized.  Washed in the waters of grace, claimed by God in the name of Jesus, and sealed by the Holy Spirit.  You will be made clean. Holy. Sacred. New and beloved. You will be named. Bennet Alexander Locke, child of God.  In this sacrament, Jesus promises you life and life eternal. Life rich with the love of God. Life characterized by forgiveness and mercy.   Life that is free from sin, death, and the devil. Free to live in the abounding grace upon grace that only our God can offer.

In a just a few moments, as Bennet is presented for baptism, we will all make promises on Bennet’s behalf.  As the body of Christ, Bennet’s new and extensive family, we will affirm our call to love, support, nurture, and abide by Bennet in his new life in faith.  Family, friends, and sponsors, along with the whole body of Christ will respond to these promises with a resounding and zealous, “we will.” 

Our response is both an affirmation to Bennet of our love and support in his new life in faith, as well as a re-affirmation that we too have been claimed by God, made new in the waters of life.  In baptism we celebrate God’s eternal and abiding promise to never, ever leave us forsaken, orphaned, or alone. 

And thanks be to God that there is absolutely nothing that I, you, your family or friends, the community, or society can do to separate you from the love of God.  God claims. God names. And God abides forever, opening to us the way of everlasting life.

In 1526, during the heart of the protestant reformation, Martin Luther produced a new, revised order for the Rite of Holy Baptism.  For the most part, his new order for baptism was simply a German translation of the preexisting Latin liturgy for baptism. 

And while much of Luther’s liturgy is still practiced today, there are elements of the original liturgy we currently omit.  Mainly, the rituals related to exorcism. Rebuking the devil and freeing the child’s body from demonic-possession. Setting the child free from the power of the devil, making way to be filled with the Holy Spirit. 

And so first, the priest would blow into the child’s eyes three times saying, “Depart thou unclean spirit and give room to the holy spirit.”  Later he would place salt on the child’s tongue saying, “receive the salt of wisdom, may it aid thee to eternal life.”  Lastly, the priest would spit onto his fingers, sometimes add clay, then touch the child’s nose and ears and say “Ephphatha, that is, Be thou opened.  But thou, devil, flee; for God’s judgment cometh speedily.”

So, dad, sorry! I mean Pastor John, that feels weird, may I call you dad? Ya know what let’s meet in the middle with Father.  So, Father John, when you baptize Bennet in a little while, you would not be out of bounds to blow in his eyes, put salt on his tongue, and spit in his ears.  

"Ephphatha," that is, "Be opened."

In today’s gospel lesson, Jesus is still in pursuit of some peace and quiet.  Some down time. And if you’re joining us today for the first time, I think it’s worth knowing that Jesus has been chasing a quiet moment to rest for quite some time now.  

In fact, it was July 22nd, our gospel text said, “So Jesus and his disciples went away to a solitary place.”  They never made it to that solitary place. Rather, the opposite happened. His popularity grew, and as he moved from shore to shore, hillside to hillside, and town to town, the crowds have been relentless in their following. 

So today Jesus travels further into Gentile territory in the region of Tyre.  Let’s be clear, this was not Jesus’ primary mission field. We previously learned that his mission was first to the Jews, so surely, he’d be able to escape and hide in Gentile territory.  

I imagine Jesus, exhausted and weary from the journey, mentally and physically drained…overwhelmed with all of the people...  I imagine he’s probably a bit fed up with people challenging him or not understanding the things he says.  So he finds a house to escape notice, and I picture him hanging is robe, removing his sandals, rubbing his feet and letting out a sigh of relief that finally, just for a moment he can rest.  Nope.

Please sir, please please please, I need your help.  My daughter, She is possessed by a demon, and I don’t know what to do.  I have heard about the power you have to heal people. I am pleading to you as my last hope. Please, you have to help me! 

Now it should be said that by all cultural standards and norms, this woman has absolutely no business talking to, let along approaching Jesus. She’s a woman and women don’t speak to men.  She’s the wrong race and religion to talk to Jesus.  She’s unclean because her daughter is possessed.  And yet, there she is, broken hearted, and breaking every boundary to beg this Jesus guy, whom she had only just heard about, pleading him for help.

And in that I think we can appreciate this woman’s desperation.  She was a mother with a critically ill child. No cure or worse no certain diagnosis and therefore no hope for cure.  

She was an outcast in every possible way.  She was beyond desperate, ready to admit defeat that her daughter was doomed to suffer in mind, body, and Spirit.  She lived in fear of her child dying, and as a result she literally had nothing else to lose. 

And our text tells us that she immediately heard about Jesus, and that was more than enough to restore her hope.  So she seeks out this Jesus guy. She came and bowed down at his feet, and she begged him for help. She crossed every possible boundary, risking her whole-self, riding this sliver of hope.  Please sir, you have to help my daughter.

I’ve only been a father for 6 weeks, but it did not take but a second after Bennet was born for me to know that I would do absolutely anything for my son.  Especially if he was sick and there was no cure in sight. Especially if I was desperate and losing hope. And especially if I heard that there was even a sliver of hope that I could find him help.  

Ya know, before 6 weeks ago, I don’t think I every really appreciated the raw, desperate, and vulnerable plea this woman makes to Jesus, the social and cultural sacrifice she makes to beg at the feet of a man she had only heard about.  Please sir, I’ve heard about you. You have to help my child.

Jesus will go on to heal the woman’s daughter, freeing her of demonic possession.  And despite the cultural, social, economic, religious, physical, and endless boundaries that would preclude her from every interacting with Jesus, her daughter is healed.  Her daughter’s health is restored. Her status and life restored and made whole. She is freed to live. 

And I think the significance of this story is not so much Jesus’ ability or willingness to heal the daughter, but rather the immense hope that came to the woman upon simply hearing about Jesus.  Hearing the story of Jesus was enough to restore her hope and faith.  Sure Jesus gives her a hard time when she pleads for help, but ultimately it is the story of Jesus that gives her desperation hope, and leads her to the one and only one who can heal her child.  

In the second half of our gospel lesson, they bring to Jesus a man who is deaf and has a speech impediment.  Again we find someone begging on behalf of the other for Jesus to heal them and make them whole.  So Jesus takes the man aside, puts his fingers in his ears, spits, touches his tongues, and says “Ephphatha, be opened.”  Immediately his ears were opened, his tongue was released, and he spoke plainly.

Again, in Gentile territory, bending the norms of both cultural and societal expectations, Jesus is found offering healing, in perhaps the most expected moments.  These are stories of faith and hope, restoration and wholeness.  These are stories of Jesus interacting well outside cultural expectations to offer a new life to desperate, vulnerable, and broken people.  

This is what Jesus does.  And despite his request for them not to spread the word and rile the crowds, they can’t help but share.  The more he ordered them to keep it quiet, the more zealously they proclaimed it. In the same way that hearing about Jesus restored hope for a hopeless mother, the people zealously proclaim the astounding power of Christ. 

..

In just a moment, Bennet will be washed in the waters of baptism.  He will be claimed by God, marked with the cross of Christ, and sealed by the Holy Spirit.  Most of all, he will become an heir to God’s salvific story.  The story of God’s redemption for God’s people. A story that begins in his baptism as we bring him to the font, begging God to claim him into the body of Christ, and God does just that.  

God redeems us from sin, death, and the devil.   God cleanses us from all unrighteousness, casting away any demons, and bringing us to new life.  God washes us and says Ephphatha, be opened. 

Be open the story of God’s salvation.  Be open to plain hearing and zealous proclaiming.  Be open to the power of God’s story to restore hope and offer healing. And it will be part of our promise to Bennet, and to one another, to listen and proclaim the stories of God’s healing power. The stories of God’s grace and forgiveness. The stories of God crossing all boundaries to offer hope and life.  

And we don’t just share these stories for Bennet’s sake, or our own sake, or even God’s sake really.  We zealously proclaim God’s story for the sake of the world.  Especially today, to a world that is desperate for hope and vulnerable to false witness.  Especially today in a world that thrives on cultural, social, economical, political, racial, gender, sexual, and religious boundaries.  A world in which we are discouraged from crossing or  approaching, let alone begging for help from anyone outside the expectations of our boundaries. 

And so we are called to proclaim, zealously, to the world, a love that is boundless and limitless.   To tell the story of a God who tears down borders, brushes away the line in the sand, bridges the isle, and causes the devil to flee.  A God that created us, not so we might live within certain personal boundaries, but that we might all be made new in the one body of Christ.  One baptism of faith. 

Because the truth is, my friends, we are all beggars, desperately seeking the one who offers healing.  We all come as beggars to the baptismal font, longing to be free from sin death and the devil.  We all come as beggars to the table, longing to be fed and nourished, loved and healed.  We all come as beggars, burdened by sin, pleading to God for forgiveness and mercy.

And the good news my friends, is that God never, ever leaves us in our begging.  For our God is one who abides and overcomes any and all boundaries. Our God redeems, restores, and heals.  Again and again, God forgives, renews, feeds, and loves.

That is God’s story.  For all people, in all lands, in all times and places.  And on this day, Bennet Alexander Locke, as you are baptized by God into the body of Christ, you will be our witness to this powerful story of love and healing.  May we hear the good news, may our hope be restored.  

Amen.

© Pastor Daniel Locke, preached Sept. 09, 2018 @ St. Mark's Lutheran Jacksonville, FL