Are We Silent, Too? Mark 9: The gospel of Mark will never win a prize for its literary style. It is jerky, each section seemingly

Transcription

1 1 Are We Silent, Too? Mark 9: The gospel of Mark will never win a prize for its literary style. It is jerky, each section seemingly disconnected from others, as it lurches from one scene to the next. As we delve into this second section, the gospel is gathering momentum, careening toward the cross. Within that movement, emotions are intense as Jesus more openly and frequently clashes with those in authority. The disciples, who are portrayed as clueless more often than not, have heated arguments among themselves. It s not a pleasant place to be as the church struggles to be born. For us, over two thousand years later, we would much rather focus on the miracles of healing and other displays of power than spend time with these texts. We don t want this confrontational Jesus who makes us so very uncomfortable, who makes us think. The disciples actions and behaviors are far from the model we seek for church. Can t we fast forward to Easter? As Jesus entered the village, the people and the disciples were deep in passionate discussion with one another. Let s call it what it is they were arguing. One of the residents there suffered horribly from what the text defines as possession by an evil spirit. Well known because of his affliction that was visibly manifested, this person s behavior dominated village life. When the disciples arrived ahead of Jesus, there was the clear expectation that these followers of Messiah would be like Jesus and heal this tortured soul. When the result they demanded in the time they wanted did not appear, the people turned on one another and the disciples. The Jesus who answered the crowd and the disciples was not gentle Jesus meek and mild. Exasperated with them all, he asked the boy be brought to him. Affirming the deep, dark afflictions that controlled the boy, he asked questions, reminded them all to trust what they knew to be true, to trust him. Even when the boy appeared dead, as if Jesus own power had backfired on them all, Jesus spoke life and brought the boy back to the community. The disciples were confused, which was increasingly

2 2 becoming their normal, and expressed their frustration. Why couldn t we do it, Jesus? You taught us everything. What went wrong? Jesus replied to them that this kind can come out only with prayer. 1 Are you confused, too? Did Jesus just say the disciples had not prayed hard enough? This is an exhausting text, and we haven t even worked our way through it all yet. Jesus and the disciples were moving from place to place, the people of the village were clamoring for answers and for action, everyone was yelling. It was a scene from the Jerry Springer Show! And while they argued, hurling accusations and throwing blame at one another, there was someone in the center of it all lost, hurting, desperate for healing. That happens often when chaos ensues the reason for being gets lost in all the noise. And Jesus said to pray. Not a very satisfying response, is it? When Jesus spoke of prayer, it was never a solo walk in the garden with God. Prayer was the faith of the community taking on shape and form, first in words, and then in action. Prayer was never meant to be a divine grab bag of goodies. Prayer connects us with one another, with God, with life. In the Sermon on the Mount, which was early in his ministry, Jesus offered a model for prayer, one we still use every Sunday. Our father in heaven, hallowed be your name. 2 It is a prayer that begins in the expansive majesty of God and the hope of a new world. It moves downward into asking for what we need to live, expands into an awareness of the many ways in which we have fractured relationships with God and with one another, recognizes the fragility and challenges of living, and then opens back into an acknowledgement of God as the source of all our being. That is prayer grounded in our need for God and ever aware of how we are intertwined with one another. That is what Jesus referred to on that day. This kind can come out only with prayer was not an admonishment of the disciples ability to pray fervently but a chastisement they had forgotten the center of their being. They were so concerned about who was responsible for what, about throwing out blame, about furthering the chaos, they forgot 1 Mark 9: 29 NRSV 2 Matthew 6: 9 NRSV

3 3 what was in their control finding their center in God and remembering their connection to one another as God s beloved. What a lesson for us as individuals, as a community of faith, as the Church! I can t say it s necessarily a comforting lesson. In fact, it calls for us to pull ourselves out of what has become normal for us, just as the village had become almost numb to what was going on with the boy who was possessed. We have become accustomed to certain ways of going about being church even if they are ineffective, numb to detrimental speech and behavior we don t even realize are choking the life out of us, so intent on assessing blame that we neglect to check our own relationship with God and with one another. We ignore just how much we need one another and God to make our way through this journey called life. We forget that there is much we can do to live fully and wholly, that we don t have to stay where we are as we are because God calls us far beyond ourselves. From there Jesus and the disciples continued their nomadic journey through Galilee, and Jesus began to once again speak of betrayal, death, and resurrection. For us, on this side of Easter, it makes sense. One of the hallmarks of our faith is the knowledge that an empty tomb lies beyond the cross. We know how the story unfolds. For the disciples it was less than clear. How could there be betrayal in their tight-knit band? How could Jesus be killed when he was doing so many wonderful miracles among the people? Resurrection was a vague concept for Jews of the first century. For some, it referred to the coming of the Messiah and the literal resurrection of all the dead joining in celebration. For others, it was centered in the immortality of the soul. It all seemed nebulous, not at all germane to their life on the road. Yet as they made their way toward Jerusalem, Jesus doubled down his efforts to talk about this trinity. As they entered Capernaum, which had become their home base, the disciples were once again arguing. When Jesus confronted them directly about what was happening, they were silent, ashamed to reveal their true selves to him. Even after all they had experienced, after all Jesus had taught them,

4 4 after all he had shown them, they were fighting about who was the greatest among them. I wonder if Jesus was discouraged - saddened they did not recognize the loving grace that walked among them, weighed down by an inability to show them the richness of life in community, frustrated they still could not understand that it was not about them as individuals at all. Even after almost three years of living together day in and day out, of sharing miracles beyond their comprehension, of witnessing transformed lives, they were still avoiding the difficult discussions that would lead them to life. It is so easy to get lost in the weeds, to become caught up in familiar chaos, to lose perspective on why we are here as a church. We want results when we want them, forgetting that life itself is a holy process and that we are never there. We ignore the chaos among us, even when it causes damage, because that is the way it has always been, and we don t want to disrupt the status quo for the unknown. We don t trust that God can and will bring life to even the most broken. We forget that it s not about us and what we want. Instead, it about who we are together as the people of God and how God s love can change the world. Lent, as the season leading up to Easter, was once a hallmark of faith. It was a time of fasting, of penitence, of prayer, of giving to the poor and it was ingrained in the daily flow of life. When the Protestants broke away from the Catholic church in the 16 th century, we began to lose the richness of the ancient practice. Intentional self-examination was seen as unnecessary and wrong thinking, too Catholic for our Protestant blood. Even John Calvin, leader of the Reformed (that is, Presbyterian) movement referred to Lent as a superstitious observance. It wasn t until the mid-1960 s that the mood began to shift as Protestants realized the value of a season of introspection as a way to draw closer to God and to one another. While in Protestant circles, Lent might not have the detailed structure of the Roman Catholic observances, we have rediscovered Lent as an essential part of our faith journey, as a path to finding our way back to God.

5 5 A season of transition such as the one in which we find ourselves is somewhat like a protracted Lent. It s a time of recognizing and naming the unhealthy dynamics that have weighed us down, of learning to come together for the needs of the many, of daring to dive into difficult conversations that point to our very identity and purpose, of reclaiming who we are and whose we are. But we must be honest it is not a pain-free process. Yet when we are the most discouraged or even angry, that is when we look to Jesus to remind us of the reason for it all. The crowd had given up the boy for dead. Yet Jesus took him by the hand and lifted him up to life in community. The disciples were frustrated when they could not be Jesus and heal the boy. Yet Jesus reminded them of the essential nature of our holy connections to God and to one another. Even when they remained determined to find their place at the front of the line, Jesus firmly and gently showed them the example of a small, vulnerable, seemingly worthless child as the way to God. Yes, even in the midst of all the misunderstanding of who Jesus was and how they should become the early church, the presence of Jesus spoke of peace that went beyond their understanding, of holy community created out of division, of grace that healed all brokenness. We forget that. This is all a process, a sacred process, in which sometimes it seems we are swimming upstream, fighting against overwhelming currents. Certainly, it seems all of life is like that sometimes. But we cannot be silent, lost in our own fury, ignoring the confusion around us, refusing to have the difficult conversations. Intertwined in all this is a ribbon of hope binding us together in something larger than ourselves, weaving us into the very nature of God s loving grace. Just as Jesus kept acknowledging to the disciples that yes, there would be hard times, he even more certainly confirmed that there is also life in all its messy, magnificent glory. So we hold on, knowing that the now is not forever and that God s promise is a certainty. We are not alone in all this. God is with us. That is the divine promise made from the earliest moments of creation. The eighth chapter of Paul s letter to the Romans contains one of the most

6 6 familiar and beloved passages of the New Testament. Its words speak to this season, to the Lent we are living, to who we are, to what can be. Listen, let them wash over you, let them fill you. Hear now the Word of God for you: Let us pray. What then are we to say about these things? If God is for us, who is against us?.. Who will separate us from the love of Christ? Will hardship, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or sword?... No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through the one who loved us. For I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor rulers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord. 3 Holy One, when you invited us to follow you, we weren t sure what that meant. We re still not clear about it. Yet you have offered us a promise of life, and it is during this season of uncertainty we cling to that promise. Help us to look for signs of your presence among us, to cherish the joy of coming together. Through all the noise of our days, speak to us of your hope. Hold us close, God of love, and keep us forever in your heart. Amen. The Rev. Melodie Long First Presbyterian Church Oshkosh, Wisconsin March 24, Romans 8: 31, 35, NRSV