Silent Disciples --? Mk 9:30-37 Sunday, September 23, 2018 The Rev. Sharon Snapp-Kolas, preaching

Transcription

1 Scripture. Prayer. Silent Disciples --? Mk 9:30-37 Sunday, September 23, 2018 The Rev. Sharon Snapp-Kolas, preaching Opening. For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven a time to keep silence, and a time to speak (Eccl. 3:1, 7). So it says in Ecclesiastes chapter 3. When I was growing up, I learned a phrase maybe you heard it when you were growing up: Children are to be seen and not heard. The understanding at my house was that, especially when we had company, the grownups did all the talking, and the children were to be seen and cooed over for how much we d grown, or maybe for how well we played a piano piece that Mom made us play. But we were not to chatter on about childish things. The speaking was for the adults. Soon, we were dismissed to go off and play in our rooms or in the backyard, so the grownups could really talk, about really grownup things. Young Sheldon is a fairly new sitcom; I think there s only been one season so far. There s a scene where Sheldon is allowed to sit at the grownups table, while his brother and sister are relegated to the kids table during a meal at which guests are present. Sheldon s brother is initially upset by this, but sister Missy explains with her little girl wisdom, When you sit at the kids table, you don t have to eat all your vegetables. They aren t paying attention to you. And you can say swear words. You can? asks George Jr. with newfound interest. Of course, dumb-[bleep], she replies with enthusiasm. In a certain way, the disciples are behaving like good children in today s reading from Mark. They are being seen and not heard. 1

2 I. The Silence. (vv ) They are silent. And this makes me curious. It makes me wonder Why are the disciples silent? Is it fear? Is it shame? Do they have secrets they re protecting? Is silence an expression of respect for Jesus? Or does it signal a lack of trust? The first silence of the disciples is a response to Jesus foretelling of his own suffering, death and resurrection. Verse 32 reads, They did not understand and were afraid to ask There are times when we are silent because we do not want to hear what we fear we might hear. It is easier to keep quiet, to pretend that we do not understand, than to ask and run the risk of hearing something we might not like. So suggests Harry B. Adams, Professor Emeritus at Yale Divinity School. Sounds right. Haven t we all allowed uncomfortable truths to bubble below the surface at times in order to avoid reality? We have words for this sort of thing. The elephant in the room, or the emperor has no clothes, or similar metaphors. Difficult truths are difficult. And so we sometimes remain silent in order to avoid them. We don t want to know that Jesus has to suffer in order for the world to be made whole. We want our cake, and we want to eat it, too. The disciples want a king who will restore Israel, throw off Roman rule. Jesus has a bigger vision, a greater purpose. He will restore all of creation, winning the victory over sin and death. He will suffer with us and for us. The disciples are silent. That s not the kind of king they want. They are confused, and they don t want to understand. Because to understand would mean to accept the truth of Jesus Christ. They are not ready for His truth. Especially for Peter, James and John, who have just 2

3 returned from a mountain retreat with Jesus. At this mountain retreat, Jesus has been transfigured before their very eyes, his clothes dazzling white, Elijah and Moses talking with him, God declaring from a cloud, This is my Son, the Beloved; listen to him! It s tough, after such a mountaintop experience, to accept a story that includes arrest by Roman soldiers, a mock trial, brutal flogging, and crucifixion. The disciples could be forgiven for wanting to avoid the truth a bit longer. They are silent a second time. Here, Jesus asks them a question they don t want to answer. They want to keep something from Jesus. Verse 34 reads, They were silent, for on the way they had argued with one another who was the greatest. Somehow the disciples figure it out, that Jesus would not be impressed with their statusseeking. Adams tells a story about how, On one occasion [he] was responsible for making the seating arrangements at a head table. At one end of the table a person with experience was placed next to a newcomer in order to make him feel welcome. When the experienced person saw his place card, he promptly picked it up and moved it to the center of the table next to the person who would be presiding. It takes a certain amount of chutzpah to need to be in a perceived status position. How many of us would be silent before Jesus if asked to explain our chasing after status, or our neglect of those who are lacking in social status? We worry too much about how we are perceived by others, about where we are on the ladder of success, about how we compare with the Joneses, or the First Church of We Have Way More Members and Money and Cool Programs Than You Do! Like the disciples, we might lack words to explain ourselves, if Jesus were to show up and ask, What were you arguing about on the way? 3

4 II. The Children. (vv ) So, the disciples may be the silent children my parents were looking for when guests came to town. They are not, however, behaving like the kind of children Jesus is looking for. In fact, Jesus uses a child as an object lesson on what greatness means in terms of being his disciples. To be great is to be a servant. And not just a servant to big, important, VIP-type people. But a servant to unimportant little forgotten people, like children. Because that s where Jesus is. With the least, the last, and the children. If you are going to speak, speak up for them. The story is told of a tribe of Indians who lived a long time ago in the state of Mississippi. They lived next to a very swift and dangerous river. The current was so strong that if somebody happened to fall in or stumbled into it they could be swept away downstream. One day the tribe was attacked by a hostile group of settlers. They found themselves with their backs against the river. They were greatly outnumbered and their only chance for escape was to cross the rushing river. They huddled together and those who were strong picked up the weak and put them on their shoulders; the little children, the sick, the old and the infirm, those who were ill or wounded were carried on the backs of those who were strongest. They waded out into the river, and to their surprise they discovered that the weight on their shoulders carrying the least and the lowest helped them to keep their footing and to make it safely across the river. (King Duncan) Sometimes we think that the weakest among us slow us down, make us somehow weaker, too. I love this story. It reminds me that, by staying connected with the weakest in our community, rather than ignoring them or trying to pretend they are not there, we stay grounded. We stay connected with Jesus and His values of what is truly great, who is truly first, and how 4

5 servanthood is central to being his disciples. When we love and support the weak among us, we also remember that we, too, are weak. None of us can go this road of life alone. We need each other. Joyce Ann Mercer interprets Jesus object lesson on an even deeper, broader level, suggesting that he is revealing his struggle and resistance to the purposes of empire. (Joyce Ann Mercer, Welcoming Children: A Practical Theology of Childhood). By suggesting that children, the bottom of the hierarchical ladder, are now the top rung, the revelation of Christ, the Messiah, the Son of God this is a radical reversal of the social order. All hierarchies are brought down. Remember that circle-song game we played when we were children? The farmer in the dell (2x) Hi-ho, the dairy-o The farmer in the dell According to Wikipedia, in a common version of the song, the farmer takes the wife, who takes the child, who takes the nurse. The nurse takes the bull,, followed in the same manner by the cow, the dog, the cat, the mouse, and the cheese. I don t ever remember a bull or a cow in the version we used to play when I was a kid. I do remember that, at the end, of course: The cheese stands alone!! with all the other chosen characters now returning to the circle. Often, the cheese would then become the farmer for the new round of the game. The last becomes first! What a game! Not at all like real life. 5

6 Unless you believe in Jesus and his crazy, upside-down kingdom. Unless you believe in the deeper truths of goodness and righteousness and kindness and the eternal love of God in Christ Jesus. Closing. Death is the great equalizer. One day we will all be silenced in death. Mitch Albom writes about an encounter with death in his book, Tuesday s With Morrie. Professor Morrie Schwartz was dying from ALS disease. Mitch is a former student, now a sports writer. He would return every Tuesday to visit with his old professor. Morrie said: Take any emotion -- love for a woman, or grief for a loved one, or what I'm going through, fear and pain from a deadly illness. If you hold back on the emotions -- if you don't allow yourself to go all the way through them -- you can never get to being detached, you're too busy being afraid. You're afraid of the pain, you're afraid of the grief. You're afraid of the vulnerability that loving entails. But by throwing yourself into these emotions, by allowing yourself to dive in, all the way, over your head even, you experience them fully and completely. You know what pain is. You know what love is. You know what grief is. And only then can you say, All right. I have experienced that emotion. I recognize that emotion. Now I need to detach from that emotion for a moment. Morrie stopped and looked me over, perhaps to make sure I was getting this right. I know you think this is just about dying, he said, but it's like I keep telling you. When you learn how to die, you learn how to live. (Mitch Albom, Tuesdays With Morrie). For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven a time to keep silence, and a time to speak Amen. 6